There’s a story, probably apocryphal but delicious nonetheless, that the Yash Raj Films productions Bunty Aur Babli (2005) and Jhoom Barabar Jhoom (2007) originated as a single movie, about a man and a woman who meet at a train station and exchange tall tales about being confidence tricksters. The plot, which borrows from The Usual Suspects, was split into a film about two con artists in love, and the saga of Ricky (Abhishek Bachchan) and Alvira (Preity Zinta), who meet at the Waterloo train station in London and swap stories about how they met their respective fake lovers.
Both films shared the same director, Shaad Ali, but Bunty Aur Babli fared better than Jhoom Barabar Jhoom. The latter movie has a senseless dance contest tacked onto the narrative, but it’s a nevertheless engaging romp packed with a superb Shankar-Ehsan-Loy score, blinding Bollywood bling, sly wit and nice turns by the leads with solid backing from Bobby Deol and Lara Dutta.
The soundtrack has various iterations of the irresistibly catchy title track and Ticket To Bollywood, in which Bachchan and Dutta gyrate in front of various Parisian landmarks. But the class topper is the more traditional number, beautifully written by Gulzar and sung by Rahat Fateh Ali Khan and Mahalaxmi Iyer. Bol Na Halke Halke is a what-if moment. Imagine, Ricky tells Alvira, if they were in love with each other rather than with other people?
The song leaves London and arrives in Delhi, where Bachchan, channeling his father Amitabh Bachchan’s movie Coolie, meets Alvira at a train station far earthier than Waterloo. A montage of romantic moments follows, interspersed by dialogue, including yet another attempt to pull wool over the eyes. Behold the Taj Mahal, Ricky tells Alvira while pointing to Humayun’s Tomb.
The tour of Delhi’s landmarks includes India Gate and Agrasen ki Baoli before landing up at the real Taj Mahal in Agra. The monument is seen upside down and reflected in water, and Ayananka Bose’s camera gracefully flips around to reveal the couple channelling yet another classic, this time Garm Hava.
Gulzar’s dreamy lyrics – pluck stars out of the moonlight and make a veil out of the luminosity – underline the ephemeral quality of the moment. The sequence that follows establishes the mutual fibs told by Ricky and Alvira. The movie takes too long to bust the lie, and there are many more title track versions to plod through along with Amitabh Bachchan trying to pass himself off as a busker. But at the point of Bol Na Halke Halke, Jhoom Barabar Jhoom is perfectly poised to deliver a comic ode to the power of sweet little lies.
