Prem was everything that a marriageable young man should be.
I met Prem in the summer of 1990. On a sweltering Kolkata afternoon, at a friend’s birthday lunch, he had me at, “Dosti ka ek usool hai madam, no sorry, no thank you.” I knew then that this relationship was for keeps. It wasn’t every day that I was allowed unsupervised television, and it was definitely providential that my friend’s parents had thought Maine Pyar Kiya to be the ideal party film for a bunch of tweens.
Prem was everything that a marriageable young man should be. Sanskari, he sulked when Suman (Bhagyashree) got held up in the kitchen; environment-conscious, he cut carbon emission by zipping around the house on a bicycle; he could even have been PETA’s poster boy with his love for his messenger fleet, the kabootars.
It is a truth universally acknowledged (in India, we are the world) that “Ek ladka aur ek ladki kabhi dost nahin hote”. And so, as he wooed Suman to BO success, like a (gently obsessed) stalker, I decided to follow his every exploit, every screen outing.
Of course, there had been that other Prem who had burst onscreen with his “Prem naam hai mera, Prem Chopra” (Bobby, 1973), but he was not a patch on my Prem. Neither was Prem Bhopali (Andaz Apna Apna, 1994), rip-roaring funny as he was. For none of them, you see, had been raised by Sooraj Barjatya and educated in Indian values at Rajshri Productions. They did not ride chandeliers to gatecrash baby showers, or play cricket with bored Spitz umpires. Heck, they never even made elaborate wedding videos look like full-length feature films. Here was the perfect lover-boy, who left lovemaking to the kabootars, as adarsh a man as one can be in between shooting a black buck or two.
That was where I met him next, a good four years later, when advice such as “Insaan ki pehchaan tann se nahi, mann se ki jaati hai” and years of “studying business” in America had mellowed him down considerably. He was older now, rid of his teenage angst and baggy satin suits of dubious colours (remember his mustard/brown suits in Hum Aapke Hain Koun…!). And while his sprawling family did all the talking (Hum Saath-Saath Hain), he spent his time looking profound or bashful, take your pick, and courting a doctor without a practice in monosyllables and Bambi eyes code. What was not to love?
Over the years, I have searched high and low for Prem’s gems and nobody has understood my quest better than Mr Barjatya. Nothing, nothing made 2003 more special than watching Sanjana (Kareena Kapoor) in Main Prem Ki Diwani Hoon torn between Prem Kishan and Prem Kumar, one, the prospective groom, the other, an employee of the same first name, sent to do a reccee of the bride and her family “kyunki pyar ki ek apni hi kundli hoti hai”. And no one, not even Raj Malhotra, Bollywood’s other pillar of romance, could have done justice to this mush other than Prem: “Kasam ki kasam hai kasam se, humko pyar hai sirf tumse. Ab yeh pyar na hoga phir humse, kasam ki kasam hai kasam se.”
I can’t wait for Barjatya’s Prem Ratan Dhan Payo to release this Diwali. Kya karoon, main Prem ki diwani hoon!
Paromita Chakrabarti is Senior Associate Editor at the The Indian Express. She is a key member of the National Editorial and Opinion desk and writes on books and literature, gender discourse, workplace policies and contemporary socio-cultural trends.
Professional Profile
With a career spanning over 20 years, her work is characterized by a "deep culture" approach—examining how literature, gender, and social policy intersect with contemporary life.
Specialization: Books and publishing, gender discourse (specifically workplace dynamics), and modern socio-cultural trends.
Editorial Role: She curates the literary coverage for the paper, overseeing reviews, author profiles, and long-form features on global literary awards.
Recent Notable Articles (Late 2025)
Her recent writing highlights a blend of literary expertise and sharp social commentary:
1. Literary Coverage & Nobel/Booker Awards
"2025 Nobel Prize in Literature | Hungarian master of apocalypse" (Oct 10, 2025): An in-depth analysis of László Krasznahorkai’s win, exploring his themes of despair and grace.
"Everything you need to know about the Booker Prize 2025" (Nov 10, 2025): A comprehensive guide to the history and top contenders of the year.
"Katie Kitamura's Audition turns life into a stage" (Nov 8, 2025): A review of the novel’s exploration of self-recognition and performance.
2. Gender & Workplace Policy
"Karnataka’s menstrual leave policy: The problem isn’t periods. It’s that workplaces are built for men" (Oct 13, 2025): A viral opinion piece arguing that modern workplace patterns are calibrated to male biology, making women's rights feel like "concessions."
"Best of Both Sides: For women’s cricket, it’s 1978, not 1983" (Nov 7, 2025): A piece on how the yardstick of men's cricket cannot accurately measure the revolution in the women's game.
3. Social Trends & Childhood Crisis
"The kids are not alright: An unprecedented crisis is brewing in schools and homes" (Nov 23, 2025): Writing as the Opinions Editor, she analyzed how rising competition and digital overload are overwhelming children.
4. Author Interviews & Profiles
"Fame is another kind of loneliness: Kiran Desai on her Booker-shortlisted novel" (Sept 23, 2025): An interview regarding The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny.
"Once you’ve had a rocky and unsafe childhood, you can’t trust safety: Arundhati Roy" (Aug 30, 2025): A profile on Roy’s recent reflections on personal and political violence.
Signature Beats
Gender Lens: She frequently critiques the "borrowed terms" on which women navigate pregnancy, menstruation, and caregiving in the corporate world.
Book Reviews: Her reviews often draw parallels between literature and other media, such as comparing Richard Osman’s The Impossible Fortune to the series Only Murders in the Building (Oct 25, 2025). ... Read More