Aashayein

Except its not. He meets with a bunch of characters stuffed with enough quirks to make a ward of terminally-ill people chortle. Kukunoor makes sure theres,whats the word,a motley bunch: a little boy who can see things,a crotchety old man whos lost his larynx Karnad,a sweet grandmotherly type whos got AIDS Jalal and who no one wants to mingle with till the staunch Rahul shows up,and,of course,a young girl Anaitha Nair wearing a very obvious wig,who is looking for love. Shes one of those young women whos supposed to be cute in an in-your-face way,making you wish fervently that she would just keep quiet more often: incessant yakkity-yak is not always a good way to raise a lump in the throat.

A film like this needs to have characters we fall in love with,and weep a lot at their passing,just like we did with Rajesh Khanna in Anand they show the patients watching bits of the Hrishikesh Mukherjee classic as a referral point. But it doesnt happen with Abraham,even though he makes an earnest attempt. This film has been in the cans for a couple of years,and hes been off the radar during that period: Aashayein is not the ideal vehicle for a sort of comeback. It doesnt help that the script is unimaginative,padded up by a long,literal dream sequence where our hero gets to play a desi Indiana Jones: thats what he always wanted,see?

There are a few moments when your eyes well up,but its not enough in a two-hour-long film.

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