#pankajtripathi

I recently watched the film Metro In Dino. As an ardent fan of Life in a Metro’s music and Konkona Sen, I went in with high expectations, only to be disappointed, repulsed, and made to feel extremely uncomfortable.

The filmmaker brings similar tropes from his first Metro instalment - cheating spouses, breaking off a wedding at the last moment, and kissing someone when they’re asleep. And we’re not talking about a goodnight, sweet dreams kind of a cute kiss on the cheek. This often occurs between potential romantic interests, typically initiated by the male protagonist when the female protagonist is asleep.

In Metro In Dino, a 15-year-old girl, confused about her sexuality, is advised by her aunt (played by Sara Ali Khan) to kiss and “test” herself to see if she’s into boys or girls. She says, in her very cinematic Bollywood cringe style, “If you feel butterflies when you kiss a girl, you’re into girls. If it happens when you kiss a boy, then you’re into boys.” aka you cannot be bisexual or even asexual because the litmus test for your sexuality here is smooching.

Unfortunately, expecting Bollywood to write a progressive queer storyline was my mistake, sorry galti se mistake ho gaya. So, the high schooler does the same. First, she awkwardly kisses a boy she likes (and yeah, a simple ‘Can I kiss you?’ would’ve gone a long way here), and then she tries to kiss her girl-crush when she is asleep.

Is consent still a foreign topic for older filmmakers? In most visual media, the portrayal of consent in physical intimacy is very minimal. Consent, here, is always “assumed” whether the person is awake or not.

Jagga Jasoos also repeats this “Aw! She’s sleeping, let’s kiss her on the lips” scene towards the end of the song “Ullu ka patha” in the movie. Ullu ka patha hi hoga jisko consent k bare mein pata nhi hoga.

The protagonist, Jagga (Ranbir Kapoor), tries to kiss Shruthi (Katrina Kaif), when she’s asleep. He leans towards her berth, in a moving train, while both of them are in their respective upper berths. She wakes up in time making him recede to his berth. Jagga claims he needed to moisturise his lips as he rubs his fingers on her lips and smudges it on his. Ew!

I love the movie Jagga Jasoos. It’s one of my absolute favourites, but this scene made me extremely uncomfortable.

After I watched Metro In Dino, and wondered why use the same cheating spouses storyline when you could’ve used couple therapy or role-play(without cheating). Is cheating the only way to bring back the lost spark in a marriage? Can we at least try to get a bit creative and progressive here?

I can never be comfortable with the romanticised comedic depiction of partners cheating. Either break up or talk to each other, maybe try an open relationship/ open marriage, or seek therapy? At least this will save them both from getting hurt. But these concepts might be “too progressive“ for Indian cinema, after all, the sanctimonious marriage and monogamy are the “pillars“ of a happy relationship(even though your partner is secretly cheating on you).

I had to re-watch Life in a Metro after two and a half hours of facepalm moments. To my convenience, it was available on YouTube.

I immediately realise I do not remember much from the first time I watched it, ages ago. Just when I was raising my eyebrows at Konkona's "Be gay, be whoever you want, but don't hurt others" monologue, voila! I meet another “Kiss her while she’s asleep” scene.

Rahul (Sharman Joshi) kisses Neha (Kangana Ranaut) while she’s asleep (and she’s just back from being hospitalised for drinking phenol in the bathroom).

The most interesting thing about these non-consensual kissing scenes is that the girl who is kissed without her consent just stares at the guy. No dialogues, no particular anger, or any dramatic expression. Just stares stoically, doesn’t even flinch.

So, I thought, would I like it if someone kissed me when I was asleep?

Ew! No! It also wouldn’t matter if they were my partner or not. It is wrong.

My reaction would probably emulate one of Basu’s heroines- too shocked to come to my senses and realise what the hell just happened (which is what my wishful thinking wants me to believe is happening in those scenes), and then probably confront his behaviour and bonus points if I take him to the police!

By Qaisar Iqbal Janjua

For much of the world, “Punjab” conjures up images of bright turbans, butter chicken, bhangra beats, and overflowing plates of “tandoori” dishes. This packaged version of Punjab is colorful—but ultimately one-dimensional, built largely on the migration stories of Indian Sikh communities who reached Western shores earlier and carved out visible diasporic identities.

What gets lost in this narrative is the real Punjab: a vast, complex, and rich civilization whose cultural heart today beats in Pakistan, not in Bollywood music videos or in the spice aisle of Western supermarkets.

The “Ghost Pepper” That Was Never a Ghost

Let’s start with the now-famous ghost pepper—a chili branded in Western culinary circles as one of the hottest in the world. Known in the global market as “Bhut Jolokia,” it was supposedly “discovered” in Assam, India. The name, often translated as “ghost chili,” evokes a sense of danger, mystery, and exoticism. But to most Punjabis, especially those in rural and southern Pakistan, this pepper isn’t exotic at all—it’s simply mirch.

In regions like Multan, Bahawalpur, Okara and Sialkot, ultra-hot chilies have been a staple for generations. They’re crushed, dried, fried in ghee, used in pickles and everyday curries—without anyone needing a warning label. The ghost pepper wasn’t a novelty; it was lunch. The labeling of such ingredients as rare or extreme reflects how Western narratives often exoticize what’s routine in the Global South, especially when that narrative is filtered through a narrow lens.

The “Tandoori” Misnomer

“Tandoori chicken.” “Tandoori naan.” “Tandoori flavor.” If you’re in the West, you’ve likely seen this word attached to countless menu items. But ask a Punjabi from Pakistan what a tandoor is, and they’ll tell you: it’s not a spice—it’s an oven.

In Pakistani Punjab, the tandoor is a humble, almost sacred part of domestic and street life. It’s where fresh rotis are baked, chargha is slow-roasted, and families gather with steel thalis and clay bowls. There’s no such thing as “tandoori spice”—that’s a Western culinary invention. For Punjabis, cooking in a tandoor is not a cuisine category; it’s survival and tradition in a brutally hot climate where open-stove cooking is unbearable.

What’s been marketed globally as “tandoori flavor” is often a mix of red food coloring, yogurt, and chili powder—bearing little resemblance to the flavorful smokiness and natural charring that comes from real tandoor cooking.

Punjab: The Land of Civilizations, Not Just Stereotypes

Punjab, meaning “Land of Five Rivers,” has always been more than a food trend. It was once the cradle of the Indus Valley Civilization, home to ancient cities like Harappa. It gave birth to poets like Waris Shah, mystics like Bulleh Shah, and philosophers like Allama Iqbal. It is the soil of sufi shrines, green wheat fields, and salt mines older than Rome.

Yet this Punjab—the Pakistan Punjab—is almost entirely absent from the global stage.

Western media, influenced by the Indian diaspora, often conflates “Punjabi” culture with the cultural practices of a specific minority: Sikh Punjabis from India, who understandably preserved and promoted their identity in exile, often under duress. Their stories matter. But so do the stories of the 110 million Punjabis in Pakistan—Muslim, majority, secure in identity, and not seeking Western validation.

From the Soil to the Plate: Real Punjabi Cuisine

While restaurant menus abroad offer a predictable mix of “butter chicken” and “chana masala,” real Punjabi cuisine is deeply seasonal, agricultural, and regional.

In rural Punjab, people still eat:

   •   Saag with hand-churned butter

   •   Makki di roti fresh from the tandoor

   •   Kunna gosht slow-cooked in clay pots

   •   Achars made with raw mangoes and red-hot chilies

   •   Desi ghee parathas that feed farmers at dawn

There’s no “fusion” here—just food that evolved naturally from the land and the labor of those who till it.

Dresses, Not Costumes

Even in fashion, the westernization of Punjab has led to confusion. Shalwar kameez, a national dress worn in Pakistan, is now often seen in the West as an “ethnic costume” worn at weddings or festivals. In Pakistan, it’s just Tuesday. Whether you’re a lawyer in Lahore or a shopkeeper in Jhelum, it’s what you wear because it makes sense: breathable, modest, elegant.

Colorful turbans and embroidered kurtas—often highlighted in Western portrayals—represent ceremonial or northern styles, not daily wear. The real Punjab, especially outside cities, remains practical, grounded, and understated.

Why the World Knows One Punjab and Not the Other

The short answer: migration, trauma, and media access.

Indian Punjabis, particularly Sikhs, were often the first Punjabis to migrate to Canada, the UK, and the US in large numbers—partly due to partition displacement, and later, persecution post-1984. They built diasporic hubs, opened restaurants, and became highly visible.

Pakistani Punjabis, by contrast, didn’t migrate en masse with the same urgency. And those who did, blended more quietly into broader Muslim communities in Western countries, often choosing not to project a distinct “Punjabi” identity.

In a world that rewards branding, this meant the Punjabi Muslim story faded from view.

✨ But Here’s the Good News

The world is ready to listen again. In a time where authenticity matters more than hashtags, real stories from real places are finding their way into global conversations. And Pakistani Punjab has a story to tell:

   •   Of flavors that need no artificial coloring

   •   Of poetry that doesn’t need translation

   •   Of communities that don’t need rescuing, just recognition

A Call to Rediscover the Real Punjab

It’s time to move past the tourist-brochure version of Punjab. It’s time to recognize that the center of Punjabi culture today beats strongest in Pakistan, not just in Toronto strip malls or British curry houses.

Punjab is not a spice. It’s not a costume. It’s not a festival.

It’s a civilization. It’s a home. It’s a heritage.

And it’s alive—smoking chillies in a clay tandoor, echoing in Sufi qawwalis, soaking in the wheat fields of Gujranwala and the stories of grandmothers in Bahawalpur.

The world deserves to know that Punjab.

Basically, I am doomed, flabbergasted, amazed, awed, fantastified, and the other synonyms of surprised. How can a person produce such great songs and such a great movie sequal?! Anurag Basu?? Pritam Chawdhury?! Arijit Singh?! Shashwat Singh?! Vishal Mishra?! How's that possible?!?

This movie and the album, specifically for the time being the album- THIS FEELS HEAVEN ON EARTH. And I hope you all have already realized that I have listened the whole album (I guess there are more songs upcoming)

1. Zamaana Lage (200/100)

2. Dil Ka Kiya (400/100 personal favorite)

3. Mann Ye Mera (10000/100 this has my heart)

4. Aur Mohobbat Kitni Karoon (900/100) {extended version of In Dino in my opinion}

5. Mausam {extended version of zamaana lage} (WHAT WAS THATTT?! PLAYING THIS ON MY FUNERAL)

Metro...In Dino, I have a lots of expectation and I know this movie is definitely going to fulfill them. I miss Irfaan Khan like, if he would have been alive today he would have got the role of Pankaj Tripathi. (Does that mean I am defaming pankaj sir, No.. HE IS A CLASSY ACTOR AND HE IS DEFINITELY GOING TO ROCK HIS CHARACTER) Pankaj Sir, i know, when I saw him in the casting with Konkona, I knew its not a simple movie and specifically when I saw Saswata Chattopadhay, that very moment I sad clear that this movie is not a simple movie, this is going to touch hearts world wide.

Aditya Roy Kapur? I am dead by your charms and your acting. Whatever movies and series you have done, might not be hit but they are classy for those who watch "movies". (He is a choosey actor, he selects the things which touch hearts not movie halls)

METRO.. IN DINO (IN DINO DIL MERA MUJHSE HAI KEHE RAHA.. TU.. JEELEY ZARA.. HAI TUJHE BHI IJAZZAT KARLE TU...BHI MOHOBAAT)

If you’re still mourning the end of Season 3 or wondering how on earth the writers could bring back the "King of Mirzapur" after that Season 2 finale, you’re in for a massive shock. The big screen is calling, and it's bringing some very familiar faces back from the grave. This isn't just another streaming season; it’s a full-blown theatrical takeover that's going to change how we see the Tripathi legacy.

The hype is real: September 4, 2026, is the official Mirzapur The Movie release date teaser cast and prequel timeline drop that’s been fueling every group chat this week. Excel Entertainment is taking the franchise to the 70mm big screen, and they’re doing it with a genius narrative pivot.

It’s officially a prequel. This explains how Divyenndu is back as the legendary Munna Bhaiya. We’re going back to the "untold story" of how Kaleen Bhaiya (Pankaj Tripathi) actually built his empire. It’s a chance to see characters like Compounder and Sweety before the bloodbath started.

The Cast: Along with Ali Fazal and Pankaj Tripathi, we’re getting Ravi Kishan and Jitendra Kumar. There’s a lot of talk about whether Jitendra is playing a new character or stepping into Bablu Pandit’s shoes.

The Vibe: The teaser shows the trio breaking the fourth wall. It looks bigger, louder, and way more cinematic than the show.

The Language: Releasing in both Hindi and Telugu to make sure the "Bhaukaal" hits every corner of the country.

Jail se lekar National Award tak — Pankaj Tripathi ji ki kahani sirf struggle nahi, inspiration bhi hai. 🌟

Ek kisaan ke bete ne patience, mehnat aur sachchai ke dum par apni alag pehchaan banayi. Is video mein jaane Pankaj Tripathi ji ki untold life story — unke bachpan, sangharsh, Manoj Bajpayee se inspiration aur National Award tak ka safar.

🎥 Watch Now: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VtjctBC-MXw

Born in Belsand, Bihar, to a farmer-priest family, Pankaj Tripathi’s journey from rural theatre to national acclaim embodies perseverance and authenticity. Inspired to act during a week in jail in Patna, he pursued theatre before earning admission to the National School of Drama in 2001 after two attempts.

After moving to Mumbai in 2004, Tripathi played minor roles in films and ads—until Anurag Kashyap’s Gangs of Wasseypur (2012) made him a household name. Subsequent standout performances in Newton, Mirzapur, Criminal Justice, Stree, and Kaagaz fetched him National Awards and widespread acclaim.

His deep-rooted experiences in Bihar continue to inform his craft: “We are puppets of our experience,” he says, crediting his upbringing for the emotional realism in his acting. Notably, he’s shooting his first film in Bihar—a socially relevant drama directed by Amit Rai—bringing his career full circle.

On the personal front, Tripathi’s love story adds a warm human touch. While in Patna, he and now-wife Mridula dated long-distance—waiting for an 8 pm call on a hostel landline—before marrying in 2004.