Theloopylululog

If ever there is an award for the best cry-er, I know I will be the top contender. I have lived my entire life with my heart perched on my shoulder. Like it’s a wingless eye-catching bird out to survey the world.

It can only mean one thing. I am shamelessly emotional.

The movies are an outlet for me; every emotion is felt and gets to shine equally under the sun. No compromise. No guilt. If you find yourself seated next to me, just be prepared to be amused. And yes, carry an extra hanky or a box of tissues. If not…why are you accompanying me anyway?

That being said, the last movie that left me deeply satisfied and emotionally full was 8 am metro.

Two strangers. Two lives. Two different destinations.

One train. One destiny.

Finding themselves and each other.

NO. it’s not a love story. Atleast not the kind where there is drama, melodrama, trees, bees and all the unnecessary jazz that cinema tends to employ to portray a love story. It’s weird because my personal love story never had those!

This movie is all about finding yourself through the other. A story of healing and self discovery.

She has anxiety. Childhood trauma. Panic attacks. She is a beautiful wife with endless patience, a decent enough husband and two children. Loves the art of making coffee more than coffee itself. And is also a poet in secret.

He has anxiety. Trauma. He has a wife with endless patience, a couple of children, a gorgeous old villa. Loves coffee. And reads just about everything.

They are a match made in heaven. To talk, walk, drink, shrink through the endlessly beautiful lanes of Hyderabad, all the while clueless to the fact that they were actually discovering themselves in the company of the other.

I felt like I was watching the male and female version of myself in them.

There is a particular way a person with anxiety walks. Like a blackhole sinking into themselves. Afraid of closeness. Afraid that they might drag and pull another into their dissolving world of fear and trepidation. With a hanky that is forever ready to douse pouring sweat, even if invisible. A bag with a bottle of water that is hogged close to the chest as if it’s a fragile baby. Eyes forever darting across the cross section of society around.

Are we doing a recce or are we scouring for an anchor? You will never know. Perhaps we don’t know either. We are just incapable of stillness. Stillness scares us.

The first few minutes of the movie sees the man and the woman in a station waiting for a metro. There’s something about them that is eerily familiar. You can’t put a finger to it. But you know. You just know it in your heart.

I was captivated from the get go. It is set in my city. A city I have grown to love as my home. I recognised the roads and the skies, yet I was blown away by how ethereal the light of Hyderabad is. Sometimes we need to see our own home through another’s eyes to recognise the beauty and the magic our home holds within it.

Strangers become friends over shared cups of coffee and poetry. The train playing home away from home where they meet everyday at 8 am.

Anxiety is quelled after familiarity sets in. Life stories are shared. Insecurities they didn’t know they carried slowly melt away. Laughter comes naturally.

Each is intrigued by the other. They look at each other a certain way when the other is busy looking elsewhere.

This is where you begin to think that they might have a future together. Gulshan Devaiah and Sayami Kher do make a couple that look arresting together.

But this movie isn’t headed there. Remember I said trauma?

And that is what unravels next. She bearing the weight of wounded by trust. He bearing the unbearable weight of self loathing accompanied by a suicidal streak.

Eerie. Hitting too close to home. The feeling that this was a movie about me and my trauma recurred here.

I was the hero that saved the zero in me from a certain death. The movie had them save each other inadvertently; stranger turned friends, who could be a lot more to each other but aren’t.

In the end, overwhelmed with emotions pouring out of my eyes…I did wonder. So who were they to each other?

There was love. Not the kind that wants to possess and romance.

This was love beyond the earthly realm. Sacred. Like prayer. A prayer holds the capacity to heal the world. Their love for themselves found after an eternal quest had the capacity to heal themselves and the other. It brings him back to himself from depression, loneliness and death. It brings her back to herself from a loophole of loneliness and trauma.

Human life revolves around tens of different things, not all of them leading to our purpose. What is the point of life anyway? What is the end goal?

Ask me and I would say Self realisation.

The slow burner of a movie is a fine example of encapsulating Maslow’s hierarchy of needs in the most emotional way possible. It’s a masterclass in moving through the five levels captured tautly in under two hours.

The 8 am metro acts as the home for their physiological needs. Their company acts as the safety net they both need to explore their own true self. Like a bud needing the soft rays of the sun to bloom into a flower they needed each other’s sunshine to bloom to their full potential.

Their connection allows them to offer each the thread of friendship through which they spin a yarn of belonging, leading them to explore the Self. Gaining trust, self esteem, confidence, courage and love for themselves.

By the time the movie ends, they have parted. Probably to never see each other again.

But this is when their journey towards self actualisation begins. He gives himself and life another chance. She becomes a published author having written a book, holding nothing but gratitude for him and their friendship, hoping it would reach him someday.

As the credits rolled, I was wetting my pillow. They were tears of sadness and joy together rolling down as one.

Somewhere in between those two hours I had lost and regained myself. I had lived my own life through them one more time. Their journey towards self actualization a mirror to my own. Their love and friendship a hat tip to life’s unique way of surprising us with a gift when we least expect it.

8 am metro is the unforgetable journey of healing oneself through the safety of a comforting heart of another. I obviously cried like a baby. Could there be any other way to honour it? You bet there isn’t!