The following are musings about the movie and life in general. May contain spoilers.

It’s extremely hard to not love the people who give love selflessly. Simple.

Barfi is what happens when a director has the choice to go make a blockbuster with the well-laid formula that has given every known/unknown/douchebag director, super-hits in the recent past as long as they are catering to that formula (South Indian Script + Bollywood Star + Mind-numbing action + A healthy dose of “Fuck logic” = Superhit). Mind you, this director’s previous movie was a flop of colossal proportions. The fact that he did not opt for an assured and safer movie after his worst flop spells out in capital letters that he is a man among the boys. A man driven by his passion and not the economics of his trade. Clearly.

Thank you and welcome back Anurag Basu.

The musical and background score of the movie sets up the scenes and the atmosphere very nicely. Pritam is almost like a wizard with his score in Barfi. He conjures magic with lovely melodies. The songs are instantly lovable, hummable and have that old-world charm through and through. Be it Mohit Chauhan’s delectable Ala Barfi!, Nikhil George’s full of life Aashiyan and helpless Main Kya Karun or Arijit Singh’s caressing whisper in Saanwli Si Raat and the mesmerising Phir Le Aaya Dil.

The music of Barfi is a nostalgic guilt trip in itself. Dive in it.

Each and every frame of this loving piece of art is dripping with nostalgia. The movie evokes the same feeling that you get while sifting through an album of old photographs, a shoebox containing your childhood prized possessions or a lovely, old memory that you can never let go.

Anurag Basu’s grasp of the emotions and characters is flawless. Barfi is his baby and I hope he keeps having more of them.

The visuals are so beautiful that the experience is akin to looking at a series of beautiful framed pictures on a wall.

This is a movie made with love. A lot of love.

The performances in the movie are great. Ileana looks gorgeous and cries even more gorgeously. In one of the many beautiful moments of the movie, the way Shruti gives a look towards Jhilmil and lets Barfi know that they have found her, sacrificing her own love for theirs, is so subtly and beautifully done through her eyes alone.

It’s hard to imagine a better Jhilmil. Priyanka is riveting with her interpretation of an autistic girl. Her moments come in her life with Barfi. On the run, living with him in the bylanes of Kolkata, living an economically poor but a blissfully happy life. This performance proves that she has much more talent than generally given credit for.

Ranbir Kapoor must be having a bad back-ache already considering the number of bows he deserves to take for his absolute gem of a performance. As soon as you meet Barfi, you forget Ranbir Kapoor. You laugh with him and cry with him.

The smile that Barfi manages to put on your face is the most genuine kind. By the end, you have lived with Barfi and you know inside your heart that the journey has been a fulfilling one. His has been a life worth living.

The way Barfi and Jhilmil spend their lives communicating with each other only through their eyes and the universal language of love, is heart-rending in portrayal.

If two people only know how to love and nothing else. That is enough.

We always have a thing for the charmers, the bumbling idiots who go about putting smiles on our faces. It seems that is all they want to do. Until they go away because eventually, that’s how it ends.

These are the idiots who we root for; we want to see them again and again. Seeing them sad is awkward since it’s so unnatural for us; and rare.

These are the idiots who teach us to love. Without any inhibitions or expectations.

Unconditionally.

Stupidly.

And like Shruti says in the movie : To love only for the sake of love.

The sensible part of our mind denies and even resists this. Knowing too much spoils our ability to love. To feel.

Cynicism lives deeper than love in our hearts. So when a person comes along and melts even the most cynical part of your heart, you can’t do a lot. You need to let go. You have to.

The Charlie Chaplin-esque silent era antics, the innocence and charm of Raju and the zest for life of Guido Orefice. Barfi has all this and then some. I can almost visualise that somewhere up there Hrishikesh Mukherjee is probably smiling.

The movie is like a giant emotional hug that leaves you with laughs, tears and most of all some genuinely beautiful memories.

I wasn’t born in the era of Anand. But I’ll take Barfi, gladly.