I watched it again last night and it felt as fresh as the first showers of the Delhi monsoons. This movie’s pull is magnetic, and I’ve often wondered what it is exactly that keeps me eager and excited every time. So, last night as I was watching it, I kept my mind’s eyes open to spot its nucleus, but surprisingly, even after watching it in its entirety, I failed to identify where or what the nucleus is and went to sleep thinking that each scene is a nucleus unto itself, authentically told. The characters seem real and rooted; they speak like a typical Delhiite with that blend of local rusticity and classiness that specially breeds from being from a higher socioeconomic background. I have lived in Gurgaon for almost two years, and although I don’t speak Hindi or Punjabi, I can tell by listening if someone is from Delhi or the NCR (National Capital Region), so this movie evokes nostalgia as I revisit, even if it is on reels, Connaught Place, see street vendors and the bustle of crowd, and hear that ‘Delhiite’ language. Naively, I strained my eyes to see if I could catch a glimpse of Nirulas where my father treated us, the newlyweds, to lunch while on his visit to Gurgaon to stay with us for a few days. Delhi is one of the characters here, and Nair has very thoughtfully woven it in the fabric of the narratives of people who we meet through Lalit Verma, the patriarch of the Verma household. The other ‘character’ in the movie is – family and the emphasis is on its fragility if not protected and kept secure. For example, the scene where Ria Verma, played by Shefali Shah, accuses and exposes the elderly Tej Puri, played by Rajat Kapoor, close friend and patron of the Vermas’, of molesting her when she was a young girl, she kicks off a storm that nobody knew how to tackle at first, and Lalit, who’s been responsibly shepherding the family ever since the demise of his elder brother, finds himself unmoored at this revelation and at the fact that he will have to now decide between who’s family and who’s not. I loved how he firmly asks Tej to leave his home forever, underscoring the unnecessariness of using foul language if one stands by the truth and honesty of one’s convictions. Just like the monsoons satiate land’s thirst, they also do a cleansing act by purging the dirt and all sorts of impurities. Tej has malice in his heart, a character who has done sins in the past and is provoked to redo when he sees little Aliya, played by Kemaya Kidwai, so when he’s banished from the Vermas’ home, I see it as a cleansing act too and the broader message of the movie title dawns on me. Aditi Verma’s, Lalit’s daughter, played by Vasundhara Das, monsoon wedding has a figurative significance: while Tej is weeded out from the family, Aditi too purges her lover Vikram Mehta, played by Sameer Arya, from her life when she realizes that he isn’t honest about their relationship. I find Nair’s storytelling captivating and inspiring. I say inspiring because of late I’ve been nurturing this thought of getting an MFA in documentary filmmaking, and if I ever pursue that dream it would certainly be because I’m drawn to her style of filmmaking.