Hindi
I Me Aur Main: A contemporary love triangle
MUMBAI: I Me Aur Main (English for I Me & Myself) is a traditional theme of a love triangle made to look contemporary. A man is always known to be selfish and full of him and this film just names him so while going on to amplify his traits.
John Abraham is a totally one way street who is brought up to believe that he is the best, the world is his slave and that every woman would crave for him. Abraham has been bedding Chitrangada Singh for three years but is not ready to accept the relationship on a permanent basis. He dodges all her attempts to talk about marriage or for her to meet his parents. His selfishness reflects in the fact that since he consumes no milk and even has his coffee black, he refuses to pay the milkman when Singh‘s hands are full with other work.
Abraham has been a bully since childhood and his mother, Zarina Wahab, has only made it worse. He likes to shadow box in front of the mirror with his self-boosting chant, ‘I am the best, I am the best‘. His girlfriend of three years, Singh, has been docile and too much in love with him to pose any kind of challenge until one fine day he reneges on his promise to take her to Pune to meet his parents. She throws him out bag and baggage.
Abraham, ego hurt, shifts into a rented apartment unaware that he has left Singh pregnant. His next door neighbour is Prachi Desai, an independent and lively girl who is least impressed by this ‘I am the best‘ neighbour of hers. She soon starts cutting him down to size. To add to his discomfort, he has a new boss, Raima Sen, hired by his music company with more pay which only indicates Abraham has been found lacking in his work. She makes him look smaller at every opportunity she gets so that he knows who the boss is around there. Abraham soon takes a fancy to Desai. He is not alone in that. His mother, Wahab, who has come to stay with him, has also grown fond of her. Abraham has a sister who sees through her brother‘s vanity. Being a friend of Singh and being responsible for introducing both, she tries in vain to tell Abraham about Singh‘s pregnancy with his child.
Around this time, Abraham begins to realise things don‘t always work his way. Desai rebuffs his advances to get physical. At office, his boss sacks him because he wants to launch a new girl singer she does not think worth the effort. Abraham decides to launch her on his own at the goading of Desai and even before the launch event can start he is told about Singh‘s labour pains. And, in a stroke of scriptwriter‘s pen, he realises in one scene what he did not during previous 100 minutes of the film: that he needs to own up to fatherhood and to be by Singh‘s side.
Being a contemporary love triangle, Singh has outgrown Abraham and her love for him no longer exists. She is an independent woman with a good career and decides to play single mother. Abraham can now continue romancing Desai.
The script is half-baked and the direction gets little chance to shine. Considering the subject, music is not up to mark and even Naa jaane kahan se aayeehai, a remixed version of the Laxmikant-Pyarelal hit number from Chaalbaaz (1989) has been mucked up. John Abraham is okay. Singh is good while Desai shines. Mini Mathur, Raima Sen, Sameer Soni and Zarina Wahab support well.
I Me Aur Mein lacks appeal for youth, its target audience.
The Attacks Of 26/11: RGV‘s take on the Mumbai Attacks fails to please
There is a dearth of ideas because there is no lure for good writers in the film industry. While some opt to remake foreign film, others remake South Indian films, and many have decided to remake old hits and even flops which they think they can better. Ram Gopal Varma decided to base a film on the 26 November 2008, attacks on Mumbai by Pakistani terrorists who killed innocent people with a hail of bullets and grenades. This is either an adventurous or a foolhardy idea, no in-between. Varma covers the initial shootings at the Taj, the Leopold Café and the CST Station.
The film is based on the book, Kasab: The Face Of 26/11 by Rommel Rodrigues. The very idea of making this film defies logic since there is nothing that the film can show that TV news channels did not show live over a period of three days while the attacks lasted.
The chain of events in the film starts from the cross-terrorists taking over the fishing craft Kuber, slaying its crewmembers and entering Mumbai through Colaba koliwada. It hurriedly documents the attacks on The Leopold Café, Taj, Cama Hospital and CST station (replaced here by Mumbai Central main line hall, probably, due to denial of permissions to shoot at CST). For some reason, it completely skips the attack on the The Trident and Nariman House. Thereafter, it proceeds to show the attempt to escape by Kasab and a partner and the capture of Kasab by the police.
That done, the film then resorts to showing what transpired between Kasab and the then joint commissioner of police, played by Nana Patekar; the sermons on Islam meted out by Patekar to Kasab who takes to sobbing. This is not the image of Kasab people have in mind. He is shown to be a wayward youth misguided by his handlers in the name of religion and jihad.
This account could well be hearsay as none of it is on public domain and of no solace to the viewers who saw the three day ordeal of Mumbaites during the attacks or to the families of victims.
The story is not worth making into a film and Varma only makes it worse with his shoddy handling. He even includes a scene or two from Jalianwala Baug massacre from the film Gandhi and adds an instrumental version of Gandhiji‘s favourite bhajan, Raghupati Raghav Raja Ram… at the end! The photography is poor. Nana Patekar‘s inquest by a committee is boring with none of the members showing a sign of expression. Sanjeev Jaiswal as Kasab is bad.
The making of The Attacks Of 26/11is not an adventure, it is pure foolhardiness.
In a music industry that often rewards speed, spectacle, and instant recall, Navjot Ahuja’s journey feels refreshingly different. His story is not built on noise. It is built on patience, discipline, emotional honesty, and a quiet commitment to becoming better with every passing year. After 14 years of struggle, learning, performing, and writing, Navjot stands today as an artist whose success has not changed his centre. If anything, it has only made his purpose clearer.
For Navjot, music has never been about chasing fame alone. It has always been about expression. It is about writing more truthfully, singing more skillfully, understanding himself more deeply, and becoming a kinder human being in the process. That rare clarity is what gives his journey its beauty.
Where It All Began: A Writer Before a Singer
Indian singer and songwriter Navjot Ahuja’s musical journey began in the most familiar of places: school assemblies. But even then, what was growing inside him was not only the desire to sing. It was the need to write.
Long before he saw himself as a performer, he had already discovered the emotional release that writing offered him. For Navjot, words became the first true channel for feeling. Songwriting came before singing because writing was the only way he could let emotions flow through him fully. That inner pull shaped his artistic identity early on.
Like many young musicians, he sharpened his craft by creating renditions of popular songs.
Those experiments became his training ground. But the turning point came in 2012, when he wrote his first original song. That moment did not just mark the beginning of songwriting. It marked the beginning of self-definition.
A Calling He Did Not Chase, But Accepted
What makes the latest Indian singer-songwriter Navjot’s story especially compelling is the way he describes his relationship with music. He does not frame it as a career he aggressively pursued. In his own understanding, music was not something he chose. It was something that chose him.
There was a time when he imagined a very different future for himself. He wanted to become a successful engineer, like many young people shaped by ambition and conventional expectations. But life had a different script waiting for him. During his college years, around 2021, music entered his life professionally and began taking a firmer shape.
That shift was not driven by image-building or industry ambition. It came from acceptance. Navjot embraced the fact that music had claimed him in a way no other path could. That sense of surrender continues to define the artist he is today.
An Artist Guided by Instinct, Not Influence
Unlike many singers who speak openly about idols, icons, and musical role models, Navjot’s creative world is built differently. He does not believe his music comes from imitation or inherited influence. He listens inward.
He has never considered himself shaped by ideals in the traditional sense. In fact, he admits that he does not particularly enjoy listening to songs, especially his own. His decisions as a songwriter and singer come from instinct. He writes what feels right. He trusts what his inner voice tells him. He positions his music according to what he honestly believes in, not what trends demand.
That creative independence gives his work a distinct emotional sincerity. His songs do not feel calculated. They feel alive.
The Long Years of Invisible Struggle
Every artist carries a chapter of struggle, and Navjot’s was long, demanding, and deeply formative. One of the biggest challenges he faced was building continuity as the best new indian singer songwriter in an era where musical collaboration is increasingly fluid.
For emerging singers, especially those trying to build with a band, consistency can be difficult. Instrumentalists today have more opportunities than ever to freelance and perform with multiple artists. While that growth is positive and well deserved, it can make things harder for singers who are still trying to establish a steady team and sound around their work.
For Navjot, one of the most difficult phases came during 2021 and 2022, when he was doing club shows almost every day. It was a period of relentless performance, but not always personal fulfillment. He was largely singing covers because clubs were not open to original songs that audiences did not yet know.
For a new Indian singer and songwriter, that can be a painful compromise. To perform constantly and still not have the freedom to share your own voice requires not just resilience, but restraint.
“Khat” and the Grace of Staying Unchanged
After 14 years of effort, Navjot’s new love song Khat became a defining milestone. Professionally, he acknowledges that the song changed how society viewed him as a musician. It strengthened his place in the public eye and altered his standing in meaningful ways.
Yet personally, he remains unchanged.
That is perhaps the most striking part of his story. Navjot says his routine is still the same. His calm is still the same. His writing process is still the same. He does not want success or failure to interfere with the purity of his art. For him, emotional detachment from public outcomes is essential because the moment an artist becomes too attached to validation, the writing begins to shift.
His joy comes not from numbers, but from the attempt. If he has tried to improve his skill today, if he has written his heart out more honestly than before, then he is at peace.
Growth, Not Glory, Remains the Real Goal
Even now, Navjot is not consumed by labels such as singles artist, performer, or digital success story. His focus remains deeply personal. He wants to sing better. He wants to play instruments better. He wants to understand himself more. And he wants to become a kinder person.
That is what makes Navjot Ahuja’s journey so moving. It is not simply the story of a musician finding recognition. It is the story of an artist who continues to grow inward, even as the world begins to look outward at him. In an age obsessed with applause, Navjot reminds us that the most meaningful success often begins in silence, honesty, and the courage to remain true to oneself.
