Mausam starts like a dewy-fresh spring morning, where everything is familiar yet new. It then wilts, autumnal overtones taking over. And then never quite recovers, falling into a dreary never-ending winter. Harry aka Harinder (Shahid) revitalises the Cocky Punjabi Munda with the kind of self-aware humour we’ve seen before, but here, the leisurely unfolding of Harry puttar in his pind gives him a chance to get it going: the half-sleeve sweater, the long shirts, the rickety cycle; the first mulaaqaat with Aayat (Sonam), the first glimpse, the hai main mar jawaan love-at-first-sight. Till here the film is fine. First time director Pankaj Kapur gives his characters and events an old-fashioned yet pleasing breathing space, as Harry and Aayat are established as the lovers who are in it for life. Only this becomes too much of a good thing way before the film has hit half-time.

 

Mausam covers a long arc, touching upon high-visibility catastrophes in India and the globe: from the destruction of the Babri Masjid, to New York’s 9/11, with TV grabs of the Kargil conflict thrown in, as well as some clumsily-shot riots in Ahmedabad. It allows the leads to be inexplicably flung asunder without any modes, and means, of communication, except when the script remembers that even during those days, not so far in the past, villages and cities and continents were all connected. It lets Harry-the-village-boy turn into Harry-the-sharp-moustachioed fighter pilot, and gives Aayat the chance to switch from a frumpy salwaar kameez-clad Kashmiri girl in fictional Mallukot to a dress-wearing shop assistant and/or a student of ballet, in verdant Edinburgh.