‘Tabaah’ Review: A Poignant Love Story Sans Crutches of Melodrama

Director: Parmish Verma
Writer: Gurjind Maan
Cast: Parmish Verma, Wamiqa Gabbi, Dheeraj Kumar, Kavi Singh and Kanwaljit Singh
Language: Punjabi

Unrequited love in the Devdas mould is often the go-to subject of Indian cinema, and now it seems in Punjabi movies too. When singer-actor Parmish Verma picks up the directorial baton and wears the producer’s hat as well for his latest film, Tabaah, you know what to expect.

The title of the film literally translates to devastation, ruin or destruction, and the opening scenes establish our hero, Verma himself, in self-destruct mode. Like good-old Devdas, pining for his beloved, he is drinking himself to death.

At the very start of the film, the poetic lines by novelist Kristin Hannah establish the tragic mood of the film. Taken from her novel The Nightingale (2015), it goes: “Some stories don’t have happy endings. Even love stories. Maybe especially love stories.” Clearly, it’s a love story gone sour. Why? Here, the writer, Gurjind Maan, deserves credit. He has not created any archetype villain in this love story. No family rivalry, no class divide and no parental interference either. Amber’s father (Kanwaljit Singh) is as supportive and caring as fathers are meant to be. So, why has it not ended happily ever after for our hero, Amber, and heroine, Raavi, played by the lovely Wamiqa Gabbi?

For some time, we see Raavi only in flashes. With her beautiful eyes opening furtively, her hands crossed demurely, she cuts a picture of simplicity and beauty. Then, the flashback takes us into the distant past. Amber is a school topper. In college, it’s love at first sight for him. He is besotted. She has no clue he exists, except by way of gifts he gives her anonymously. A love story in which silence speaks the language of love is indeed a rarity in Punjabi cinema, where heroes, as a rule, wear their hearts on their sleeves.

Be it the lyrics of the song: ‘Haule haule, asi nazaraan naal suneya, tussi ankhiyaan naal bole’ (through your eyes I hear, through your eyes, you speak), or the minimalist dialogues, this heartbreak saga plays out with a fair share of tender moments. There is no melodrama or over-the-top antics. The problem, rather, is that often, there isn’t enough dramatic tension either.

Amber’s drinking bouts and how he manages to grab a bottle of alcohol almost every waking moment of his life do get a bit repetitive after a while. Besides, it does restrict us from feeling as strongly as we ought to for this lovelorn aashiq (lover). Nevertheless, Tabaah certainly is poignant, made all the more soulful by its heartfelt songs and music by Gurmoh.

However, Gabbi provides real emotional heft in the way she utters those lines. When she says, “Uncle mein odhi koi photo le jaavan. Mein te onu kade changi tarah wekheya whi nahi (Can I borrow his photograph? I have never ever seen him properly.),” your heart simply melts. Indeed, the heroine is central to a love story, and Gabbi has proved herself as a consummate actress in more than one film and series. It’s only logical, then, that she should have been given some more screen time, for she dazzles whenever the camera is on her. We are not alluding that our producer-director-hero is on an ego trip; rather, in the very first rushes with his potbelly showing, he has the gumption to depict himself rather unflatteringly. In fact, Verma effectively brings out Amber's vulnerability, fragility, and desolation at the breakpoint of self-annihilation. 

Even better, the director in Verma chooses not to follow the hackneyed path. He refrains from going for your tear ducts in the climactic high. The build-up to the climax, though evident, keeps you invested. At the very onset, the film nudges you towards the direction in which the narrative will ultimately unfold. And when the inevitable happens, we do hope and wish otherwise; there is no overtly sentimental display of emotions.

Instead, Verma wants us to internalise the grief, which, as noted author E.A. Bucchianeri says, is the price we pay for love. 

Star-crossed lovers, like the sky and the earth, never meet. But Punjabi cinema is certainly meeting higher standards of production, cinematography (by Ishaan Sharma), story-telling, and understated acting. In Tabaah, even the friends Inder (Dheeraj Kumar) and Jaggi (Kavi Singh) do not play the fool and are etched out with feeling and heart.

With a runtime of less than two hours and a fabulous background score by Sandeep Saxena, Tabaah may not be the greatest love tragedy ever told. Yet, it is a welcome addition to Pollywood’s fast-changing lexicon.