What I recall is the big eyes of the owners of those video diaries. Those diaries were recorded by her for her brother. A daughter-in-law married to Mumbai to a family in the countryside. It started with novelty, happiness, and introductions everywhere, including the skinny black aunt and her chubby daughter who helped her home. The last man cheated. In the end she felt like she couldn't take it anymore. The recording ends here. Aamir Khan saw a broken rope beside the lamp and walked away in shock.
But the director did not intend to make the film a horror film or even a tragic film. Here I would like to thank her. Because of this, I was able to unintentionally remember those big eyes. There is no grief in the video, no strong emotions like anger. The owner of the video diary just stopped laughing, and then stared at the video recorder quietly with a pair of big eyes, which looked like a silent goodbye, a farewell to a distant relative. Meaningful.
Yes, the days are not so perfect. But no need to complain. Even if this is the way to tell others.
The movie is like a multi-layered treasure box. The amateur photographer, the divorced painter, the male laundryman by the river, and the few supporting characters who run the show are actually not what the movie wants to show.
What the film really wants to show is the woman in the Bombay Diary. She depicts her life, and she depicts very good things, such as walking through the streets countless times every day, that person, that person, that bird, there are stories, and only those who have a heart will notice those stories. She also portrayed bad things, like her husband cheating. They are all calm and real in her world.
I am reminded of Chekov's novel "My Life", the man who has a rigid, repressive and uncreative engineer father, a timid and cowardly sister, and a god-like curious and playful wife, who does not like to read People who like to be workers.
When his wife ran away, his sister was about to die of illness, and his father remained indifferent, he said this to his father:
Poor sister! To be a human being here, you must drink, play cards, speak ill of others, you must pretend to be religious, or you must paint decades-old house drawings, in order to avoid seeing all the horrors hidden in those houses! Our small town has existed for hundreds of years, but it has never produced a single useful person—none! Anything that is a little bit angry and a little bright, you always shovel it out by the roots! The town is full of petty shopkeepers, petty tax collectors, petty clerks, hypocrites—a city of every benefit and needless. If the earth cracks and swallows this city, no one will feel a pity!
Then "I" still survived as a worker in this city by perseverance, and even became a foreman, living with the niece left by the deceased sister.
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