Totally Filmi

Under the pretext of tea: a chat with Abhay Deol

 

 

 
 

“Did you have your chai?  Would you like some?” asks Abhay Deol as I join him for what will be too brief an interview.  I’ve told him I’m nervous. He’s generously playing host, putting me at my ease.  Inside, I’m panicking – I know my time with him is strictly limited, and I have so many questions I want to ask him about his films.  So, I just plunge in and ask my first question.  “Your shoes,” I say, “I want to ask you about your shoes.”

Abhay looks a little taken aback.  “My shoes?” he says, surprised.  “These ones?” 

“Yes, your shoes. Those are fabulous shoes.”

He laughs.  “They’re Dior, fancy brand, and I got them on a photo shoot.  I don’t want to give them back,” he confides.

Of course.  They are Dior.  And unless I’m mistaken, Abhay Deol is attired head to toe in Dior Homme 2012, simple, elegant, understated.  Hip, without being pretentious.  Like the man himself, from what I’ve seen as I’ve watched him interact with the other interviewers also vying for a few minutes of his time this evening.

He doesn’t even seem more than a little taken aback when I confess to yet another obsession besides men’s shoes:  first films.  So I plunge in and ask him about Socha Na Tha.  It’s a film with all the external trappings of a star kid being launched by his family, in this case, his uncle, Bollywood legend Dharmendra and cousin Sunny Deol.  But, I note, that’s where it ends.  The film itself is completely different from other Bollywood launches, and I wonder if that was always the intention.  Abhay gives me some insight into that:

“What I liked about it was it was a really nice rom-com, you know?  It had a good story, it was like you say, you think it was going to go a typical Bollywood way, and then there’d be a twist, it would turn the formula on its head, something original about it.

“Socha Na Tha was such a fresh story.  You’d think it’s going to go the clichéd route, and then it suddenly turns around.  Sure enough, bhaiya (Sunny) heard it out and loved it.  And that’s how it worked out.  There was no intention of, we’re going to launch you this way or that, there really wasn’t.  I don’t think my family had any idea how to launch me, really, you know, because, they would look to me and see what I wanted, and I wasn’t very clear. I think they thought I was confused.  I told Imtiaz (Ali, the film’s director), bhaiya’s going to listen to this, and he’s going to say the character’s Abhay, because he’s really confused in life anyways.  So that’s typically how it worked out."

I comment on how nice this is, how refreshing, because typically you see these star vehicles, and they hit all these marks.

Abhay interjects: ”Action, drama, romance – tick, check check check,” he laughs.

 “And this one – wasn’t,” I add.  “ And I hate to use the work “quirky” cos everybody does...”

“Quirky,” Abhay laughs again, “That’s all right, I hear that a lot.”

“But,” I continue, ”I see that film setting the stage for everything else you did after,” I confess to him.  More confessions:  that I’ve seen all his films. He thanks me politely.

Before my time runs out, I jump from his first film to his latest, Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, the second film from director Zoya Akhtar.  I’ve been curious – did he have any idea what the character was going to be when Zoya approached him for the film?  The answer is no:

“When she approached me I had no idea what she was approaching me with.  She just said it’s like a road trip between three boys who are on a vacation essentially, so I said okay.  I read it, and – obviously I’m attracted to scripts that, sort of, don’t conform, but not because it’s not conforming, it just is what it is, its own animal, you know what I mean?”

In fact, I think I do know what he means.  I think that’s the reason that so many films that try so hard to push boundaries and wear their non-conformity like a badge end up not succeeding.  End up, all too often, not being very good films.  Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara was different, but for me, as a viewer, it was a difference that actually kind of snuck up on me as the film unfolded.

“And that’s what I liked about Zindagi,” says Abhay.  “For me, when I first read a script it’s not really about looking at my character, it’s really just understanding the film.  Does it interest me?  Does it not?  For me, personally, I can’t be reading a script with my character in mind – I don’t understand that.  I genuinely do not understand it.  I have to like the film in order to like the character.  I can’t like a character and not the film.  You have to sort of enjoy a movie, and then everything falls into place.”

And I did enjoy Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara.  But I persist just a little, because I did enjoy the character of Kabir.  Because, as I tell Abhay, it was after I went home and got thinking about the film that I realized that if you take the character of Kabir out of the film, it doesn’t work.  At all.  I ask him about it, and he expands:

“Zoya said that character is the thread that ties the film together, and it was a very important casting for her.  You know what, when it’s a well-written film, you don’t need to use your imagination too much because it’s all there in the script, so your imagination is only stoked by what you see on paper, if you have to use your imagination outside of the script, there’s really nothing there.  But this character was very clear, I could see him, I could see the kind of person he would be.  You of course don’t want to get too rigid or have a very strong vision of what he is because you want to interact with the director and see what he or she is thinking.”

He continues on, excitedly, (and if there’s one thing I’m learning about Abhay Deol is that he’s excited talking about the work, about the process):  “But then again, when it’s a well-written script you’re probably going to guess what the director says anyway because it’s all there on paper.”

At this point, I’m mindful of the fact that the handlers want me to wrap things up.  But Abhay presses on, giving me some insight about Zoya Akhtar:

“She’s very, very sharp.  I don’t think anyone can sit in front of her and she’s not read what they’re about before they’ve said hello.  But she’s also the kind of person to hold back her judgement, she’s not a judgemental person.  But,” he says, snapping his fingers, “I’m sure she’s bang on all the time.  She doesn’t say it.  She won’t ever say it to you, but she’s so insightful, I think it just comes from having lived a life, being out there, I suppose. If you let yourself be vulnerable, I think that’s when you learn most about people.  I think she’s got those qualities in her.”

Abhay spoke more, about how he works as an actor, how that played out in working with Zoya Akhtar, and with his co-stars, Farhan Akhtar and Hrithik Roshan.  “There’s no right or wrong,” he shares, “in one actor’s method of working over another.” 

I’m fascinated by it all, but I’m still thinking about what he said about vulnerability.  If you let yourself be vulnerable, you can learn a lot.  I confided my obsessions to Abhay, and he took it all in stride, and graciously shared so much with me in such a very few minutes.

If I have anything left to add when we’re done, it’s a message to Kalyani Chawla, vice-president with Christian Dior India:  let Abhay keep the fabulous shoes.  He was rocking them.

 

Abhay Deol is in Toronto this week as part of the Masala! Mehndi! Masti! Festival running at Harbourfront from August 19^th to 21^st.  If you want to hear more from him, he’ll be in conversation with OMNI Television’s Mohit Rajhans on Saturday, August 20^th at 5 p.m. in the Studio theatre.  As well, a number of Abhay’s films are being screened throughout the weekend: 

Dev D. – Friday, August 19^th at 7 p.m.

Honeymoon Travels Pvt. Ltd – Friday, August 19^th at 11 p.m.

Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye! – Saturday August 20^th at 12:30 p.m.

Manorama Six Feet Under – Saturday August 20^th at 10:00 p.m.

Ek Chalis Ki Last Local – Sunday August 21^st at 12:30 p.m.

 

Masala! Mehndi! Masti! and The Essential Abhay Deol

Masala!  Mehndi! Masti!  -- a weekend long South Asian festival -- is back, and from August 19th to 21st there are a wide range of cultural activities on the agenda, including a restrospective of Abhay Deol's films, as well as a Q&A session with him on Saturday afternoon.

Last year, with the release of Rajshree Ojha’s Aisha, I wrote a piece for Bollyspice that gave a kind of snapshot summary of each of Abhay Deol's films, and I'd started writing them up  for the blog.  Seems to me as if The Universe is telling me that maybe it's time to get around to finishing that up.   Today, a look at Socha Na Tha, Deol's debut film:

 

 

 

Socha Na Tha (2005)

The Skinny: 

Viren (Abhay Deol) and Aditi (Ayesha Takia) are introduced by their very traditional families who are trying to arrange both their marriages.  Viren and Aditi, however, want something – someone – different.  Viren refuses the match for them, and the two families start a bitter squabble.  And Viren and Aditi?  Become the best of friends.  Who would have imagined that?

The Abhay Factor:

Watch Socha Na Tha because it’s Abhay’s first film – and also the first film written and directed by Imtiaz Ali (Jab We Met, Love Aaj Kal).  But watch it first and foremost to watch the relationship between Viren and Aditi blossom.  Abhay and Ayesha are lovely together, and their scenes and dialogues together make the whole film worth the price of admission.

 

 

For more on Socha Na Tha, you could always read my write up of the film from last year, and if you're in the Toronto area, be sure to check out the schedule at the Masala! Mehndi! Masti! site for more details on Abhay Deol's films and all the rest of the great stuff on that weekend!

Ahista Ahista (dir. Shivam Nair, 2006)

“My God, a whole moment of happiness!  Is that too little for the whole of a man’s life?”

-- from the short story "White Nights" by Fyodor Dostoevsky

 

Ahista Ahista is a film that I love; it’s a film that moves me, and yet, it's also a film that troubles me.

It’s a yet another adaptation of the Fyodor Dostoyevsky short story “White Nights” – and honestly, I’ve read and reread this story and, like the Devdas story, I wonder what it inspires in filmmakers, that so many of them want to explore it.

That said – I particularly like how the film takes the story and transforms it, how Dostoyevsky’s Dreamer becomes Ankush, a man with limited outlook who works in a place that is all about dreams – about the dreams of being in love, of getting married – Ankush works as someone who makes the dreams of others come true. 

Ankush (Abhay Deol) is a simple guy, living in his simple world.  He's a witness-for-hire at the local marriage registration office, with his simple patter down, his fee of 200 rupees, and his little community (the guy who runs the local phone booth, the musician who plays for the newly wedded couples) centred around the wedding business -- if you can call it a business.  More, scraping by earning a living.

 

One day, Ankush delivers his custom lines to a young woman, Megha (Soha Ali Khan), who is waiting outside the office for her boyfriend to arrive, so they can get married.  Megha has run away from her home to be with Dheeraj (Shayan Munshni).  For Megha, there is no turning back -- she has left her family a letter, and there's no way to return home except in disgrace.

 

Which, for Megha, becomes a huge problem when Dheeraj fails to turn up for their appointment.  Megha waits, at first persistently, and then, helplessly.  She is a woman alone, in Delhi, who has cut ties with her past, and the future she had planned has suddenly slipped out from under her.

Ankush notices her, too -- at first, giving her encouragement that her boyfriend will turn up, and then, realizing her helplessness, he sets out to help her.  He doesn't know why -- later he tells Megha that he knows he wouldn't have helped her if she had been a man, but he doesn't do it because she's a woman in the way she thinks -- not for love, not for sex.  But beyond that, he has no reason.

After a series of thwarted attempts to find Megha somewhere safe to stay, Ankush finds Megha a job at a local old age home.  The downside is, Megha needs a deposit of 10,000 rupees for her living quarters.  Ankhush borrows the money for her, but, realizing that his marriage witness job won't be enough to pay it back, he takes a job as an account rep for a bank -- essentially, convincing people to sign up for an account, for which he earns a commission.

 

And it turns out the personable Ankush is good at this -- but still not good enough to get enough people signed up in order to earn his commission.  Megha comes to the rescue, pointing out that he has in his marriage witness diary the names of couples who surely couldn't refuse to open an account if he asked them.  Ankush easily earns the money to pay back his loan, and his hard work and success pay off -- he's offered a position as an Assistant Manager.

Suddenly, Ankush's unambitious life has changed, and all because of Megha.  He set out to help her, and in the course of that, ended up helping himself.  The new job comes with a string attached:  he must learn English.  But Ankush feels that the changes Megha has caused in him mean that this, too, is something within his reach.

And something else happens to Ankush -- without his even realizing it, gradually, gradually (as the title suggests), Ankush has fallen in love with Megha.  He asks her to marry him, and after thinking about it, Megha decides to close the door on her old life, and accepts.

Everything is going well for Ankush, until one day, when Dheeraj turns up looking for Megha.  A series of attempts by Ankush to prevent Dheeraj finding her backfire, and when he does find her, Megha realizes that she has misjudged Dheeraj, and also that in the end, she still loves him.  Megha and Dheeraj are married in the local registration office, and Ankush, once again, serves as one of the paid witnesses.

So, I started this off by saying that Ahista Ahista is a film that I love, a film that moves me, and a film that troubles me.

Here's what I love about the film:

Mostly?  I love Ahista Ahista just for Abhay Deol's performance.  And if I love first films for the potential they hold, I adore when second films give me the payoff I'd hoped for.

I really enjoyed Abhay Deol as Ankush.  Ankush isn't a hustler, he's just a simple guy, living his simple life, until suddenly one day his eyes are opened to other possibilities.  I love how Ankush doesn't plan on falling in love with Megha, but when he does, it's not a grand thing, it's just one more thing that builds his confidence in himself just a little bit more.  Ankush stands in such contrast to the brash, cocky Viren of Socha Na Tha, and it is wonderful to watch the shift that Abhay Deol makes in his second film.

Abhay Deol has said that Ahista Ahista is a film that is character-driven and not plot-driven, and he's not wrong.  The plot is simple, and the pacing of the film is slow.  It's a film where the most important things happen gradually.  It's a film totally worth watching for Abhay Deol alone.  And yet, the icing on this cake is that the supporting cast in the film is wonderful.  I adore when attention is given to fleshing out the supporting players, and that certainly happens in Ahista Ahista, writer Imtiaz Ali creates a kind of family for Ankush, in the way that those without much family of their own tend to find and support each other.

Okay, next, what troubles me about the film:  I think the film's ending -- no, not just the ending, but how Megha reaches that decision to marry Dheeraj -- is probably the thing that bothers me most about the film.  I grow to like Megha over the course of the film.  I watch her devasted silence as she believes she has been dumped.  She is frozen, unable to act, and I feel just as crushed and helpless as she does.  And even though she has to be rescued by Ankush, I still love how she accepts what needs to be done, and does it.  More than that, though -- as she begins to build a new life for herself, I love how she helps and encourages Ankush, even in very small ways.  I love how she remains shy, but you start to see the light come back into her life.

And I really, really feel for her when Dheeraj turns up again -- how she has to deal with the fact that she believed the love of her life could leave her, instead of thinking something must have happened to him (though, frankly, who wouldn't think that, given the situation?).  How she must reconcile that with the new life she has slowly built for herself, and the future she has planned with Ankush.

But I find it really hard to swallow that she would so easily decide to marry Dheeraj and dump Ankush as she does.  I could have accepted her not marrying Ankush and needing time to figure out what else to do.  But the way that happens -- how she so quickly opens the door on her life with Dheeraj again -- suggests that she really didn't care for Ankush, and was marrying him -- why?  Out of convenience?  Out of gratitude?  That thought troubles me and makes me inordinately sad.  On the other hand:  I have this profound sense that in some way, Ankush is not unlike Dostoevsky's Dreamer, who, despite assuring the woman he meets that their relationship would be nothing more than friendship, falls in love with her anyway, so perhaps I should cut Megha some slack.

 

So.  Finally.  What really moves me about Ahista Ahista is connected to Megha, to her silences, to her helplessness as she finds her self in a situation for which there seems to be no turning back.  I've been where Megha is, been in a situation from which there seems no way out, and I can completely understand her reaction, being so shaken and in such shock that one needs to rely on help from someone else.  If I'd had someone like Ankush to rescue me, I know I would have let him do it. 

 

But -- I had this profound sense, watching Ahista Ahista, that I'd seen Megha somewhere before, and after scratching my brains for a good long while, I finally figured it out:

 

 

 

In Satyajit Ray's 1960 film Devi, a young woman, Doya, is mistakenly believed to be the reincarnation of the goddess Kali (the goddess of creation and destruction) by her father-in-law.  Out of duty to him, she reluctantly sits for hours and hours on end as devotees of Kali learn the news and come to seek her blessings.  Doya becomes trapped in a situation that grows increasingly obsessional, and from which there seems to be no escape, and she spends much of the film staring like this, and the inner turmoil it represents is palpable.

I'm not sure if it was writer Imtiaz Ali's  or director Shivam Nair's direct intention to echo those scenes from Devi, but they surely must be familiar with Ray's work, and even if it may be a happy coincidence, I found it kind of delightful that for me, Soha Ali Khan's Megha caused me to recall her mother, Sharmila Tagore, in Devi.  And for me, it was enough of a moment of happiness to last me.

But Ahista Ahista reserved one more little gem for me.  Despite my dislike of the Devdas story, I'm kind of fascinated with references to it in films, and there's one here.  When Ankush finally confronts Megha, he asks her if she thought, well:

 

He assures her, he will not.  At the film's end, I'm not so sure.

 

"And was it his destined part

Only one moment in his life

To be close to your heart?

Or was he fated from the start

to live for just one fleeting instant,

within the purlieus of your heart."

-- Ivan Turgenev

 

Abhay Deol Filmfest: Interlude

Well, I did manage to make it through all of Abhay Deol's films in time for Aisha (though I wasn't feeling well enough to go see the film on Friday when it opened, my fingers are crossed for sometime this week).

And I will get back to looking at the films in more depth here on the blog shortly.  To be honest, I did a write-up for Ahista, Ahista, and found it so dry and tedious that I didn't want to post it.  I showed it to the Tech Guy who also found it a little pedantic, but wasn't sure what to tell me.  By the time I showed it to Vanessa, I kind of had my finger on what was wrong, and talking it over with Ness, I knew I was on the right track.

So now I just have to fix it.  That's coming (as is part two in my series on Saawariya, as is a look at the Govinda film Sandwich, as is.....Sriedevipalooza!)

But in the meantime, I'm very happy to say that I took all my Abhay watching and turned it into a little article for Bollyspice that I called "The Essential Abhay Deol".   So, I invite you to take a look at that while I go back to writing about his films in a little more depth here on the blog.

Abhay Deol Filmfest 1 (bis): Aisha promo

I have really been enjoying all the Aisha promos, and didn't think they could put out anything else that could make me look even more forward to the film.

I was wrong.

The "Gal Mitthi Mitthi Bol" clip just raised my interest level another notch:

I am going to have to set all my expectations aside, because, invariably, every time I really, really look forward to a film, especially based on all the promotions, it disappoints.  I do so hope that won't happen this time.

Abhay Deol Filmfest No. 1: Socha Na Tha (2005, dir. Imtiaz Ali)

Socha Na Tha (2005.  Written and directed by Imtiaz Ali.  Starring Abhay Deol and Ayesha Takia)

Warning:  Spoilers.

Twenty-something Viren (Abhay Deol) has returned home to India after finishing his studies in America.  He is young, urban, hip, modern, glib -- and confused.

Aditi (Ayesha Takia) is seemingly shy and reserved, but beneath that facade is a girl who is full of life and always ready for a little masti. 

Aditi knows what she wants -- or, she knows what is required of her as the niece of her wealthy family who have looked after her since the death of her parents, and that sometimes what you want takes second place, and as an adult, you just deal with that.

The two might never have been destined to meet -- in fact, the film's opening sequences see them frequenting the same places (department store, bowling alley),

but always passing each other by -- except for one thing:  each of them comes from very traditional families who believe that the right way to settle someone down is to arrange their marriage.

Aditi agrees, Viren resists;  he's been secretely seeing Karen, his girlfriend of three years, and he thinks he wants to marry her.  He's conflicted, though:  does she love him?  Will she agree?  And how will he convince his very traditional Hindu family to accept not only a love-marriage, but a love-marriage with a Catholic girl?

In the midst of all this turmoil, Viren agrees to meet a girl selected by his family, thinking that he can use the process to buy himself some time while he figures out what to do.  By chance, the girl his family has selected is none other than Aditi.

The two meet, and in a moment alone together, they share their stories, and, thinking they both want something different -- someONE different -- they agree to scupper their families' plans for them.  Viren will refuse the match, and that will be the end of it.

So they think.   But the refusal sets off a bitter feud between the two families, and to complicate matters?  Viren and Aditi have hit it off so well that they become friends almost immediately. Aditi helps Viren out with his relationship with Karen, but instead of Viren becoming more assured by the choices he is making, he becomes increasingly confused about what he really wants out of life, and what he should be doing, and everything he actually tries only serves to complicate his, and ultimately Aditi's life more.  Viren finds himself more and more tied up in knots the harder he tries to untangle his life.  Aditi retreats into duty and acceptance, unwilling to put herself and her desires before her duty to her family.

Socha Na Tha is a debut film in a number of ways:  it was the vehicle chosen by Dharmendra and Sunny Deol's Vijayta Films to launch nephew/cousin Abhay Deol.  I read an interview with Abhay who said it was also Ayesha Takia's first time in front of the cameras (though not the first of her films to be released).  And it's also a first film for director Imtiaz Ali, and his first time writing as well.

I love first films.  I love the potential they hold, and I love watching seeing that potential develop as people go on to make more films.  And I'm more forgiving of first films, because I'm willing to let people make some mistakes as they find their footing and hone their craft.

Socha Na Tha's themes aren't terribly original, and in fact, I'd argue that they reflect Vijayta Films perfectly:  duty to family, the clash between modernity and tradition, and especially a respect for traditional and/or family values.  In fact, if the film falls down anywhere, it's that these themes are hammered home to us at regular intervals, and in the course of that hammering, the three families involved (because there is the clash with Karen's parents as well) are painted in shades of black and white, with very few moments of grey.  It would be difficult to believe that the bitterness that develops would be overcome at all in order for Viren and Aditi to be together.  The moments of grey are there:  for example, there is a lovely scene at the end when Viren's father comes to terms with their elopement -- but they are few and far between, and the film suffers for it, I think.

That said, there is much to commend Socha Na Tha, and much to reward a patient, forgiving viewer.  I am an unabashed fan of Ayesha Takia, and she does not disappoint here:  her Aditi is bubbly and vivacious, yet, with a core of vulnerability and sadness that arise from her sense of duty to her family.  She appears confident, if shy, when we first meet her, but we watch her become more torn and confused and yet determined to do what is required of her as the film progresses.

Patience is required, though, with Abhay Deol's performance, though if you can persist until the film's final half-hour, you will be amply rewarded.  Deol's Viren is cocky and at times rather unlikeable, especially in the first part of the film.  To be fair, Viren is immature and thinks he knows it all, or knows better than his family, and Deol captures that perfectly most of the time.

Of interest to me is that there is one scene in the film (one in which members of Aditi's family discover the two of them have been meeting on the sly, and confront them) that I absolutely loathe.  Deol's performance just doesn't work -- his timing is off, his Viren is unpleasant instead of just cocky and immature -- he comes off as someone just trying too hard to get it right, and it goes all wrong instead.  But, in reading an interview Abhay Deol did at the time of the film's release, I discovered that this scene is actually the very first one they filmed for the movie -- so I can be very generous with that performance as a result.  And honestly, as Viren must take responsibility and face up to what he must do, so does Deol's performance improve and mature as well.

What saves the film, I think, is Imtiaz Ali's ability to give us some very good moments.  Not all the writing is wonderful, but there are some moments where the dialogues and the overall sensibility are just so spot on that they make me willing to overlook the rest.  Viren's relationship with his sister-in-law (Ayesha Jhulka) is just lovely.  She is his confidente, and she's also the one person who can help him navigate what he wants (or thinks he wants) with what his family requires of him.

And the best moments of the film are the ones between Viren and Aditi:  their first meeting, when they immediately connect and open up to each other.  Their continued friendship.  And especially, the film's final scenes, when Aditi has run away from her engagement to another man, realizing she finally has to reach out and grab what she wants in life.  She confronts Viren at work, and they argue, and in the course of that argument -- where, on the surface, Viren tells her this just cannot be happening -- they get into a cab and elope.  The situations are well-written, and Deol and Takia are just charming together in them.

If there is an irony in Socha Na Tha, it is this:  Viren and Aditi believe they want to be with someone they love, someone of their choosing, rather than with someone chosen by their families.  But in the end, they end up in love with the very person they rejected as part of a family arrangement.  If Socha Na Tha wants to show us anything, it's that tradition always wins, and that sometimes love happens, as the title suggests, without our even thinking about it.

(Well, no, you don't, but nice try...) 

"the thinking woman's sex symbol"

Which is how Abhay Deol's Wikipedia entry describes him.  Certainly a lot of thinking women and men have been doing some thinking about his role in the upcoming film Aisha, purported to be based on Jane Austen's Emma.

 
 (Aisha, 2010)

And I've had my little stack of Abhay Deol films sitting here (sans Road, Movie, which I haven't been able to watch yet), just waiting for the right moment to partake in a little Abhay Deol Filmfest. 

Some of you know that I've been trying to collect up all of Govinda's films in order to watch them in chronological order from beginning to end.  It's kind of a crazy undertaking -- especially with someone like Govinda, who has this MASSIVE filmography, much of which is hard to find, impossible to find, or, if you do find it, has no subtitles.

But Abhay Deol?  A late starter in the film business, with, at this point, nine released films (Aicha will be the tenth.  Also, I cannot find the 2009 film Meridian Lines, anywhere.  It wasn't even on his filmography way back when I bought all his films in order to do this at some point.)

An Abhay Deol Filmfest from beginning to end (with the exception of Road, Movie, I think, at least for the time being) is totally do-able.  Totally feasible.

Right?

(Ahista, Ahista, 2006)

First up:  Socha Na Tha, from 2005.