- Date of Release: 28 November 2025
- Genre: Action, Drama, Musical, Romance
- Language: Hindi
- Watch On: Theatres Only
Tere Ishk Mein
Introduction
So I have made a brand new ritual lately – to get up on a Friday morning after sacrificing some sleep in order to sacrifice myself to some absolute trash that is veiled as a new Hindi release of the weekend. It happened with Mastiii 4 last weekend, and my weird ritual has continued this weekend with Tere Ishk Mein. Speaking of weird, seldom have I come across a film that needs mental conditioning – a drama so frustrated that it in turn needs counselling. It is similar to the deep breaths we wish to take lately but for AQI that forces us to carry oxygen cylinders with us. If you think that is weird, I dare you to watch Tere Ishk Mein, a film that will remind you to setup a boiler plant just to warm a bucket of water for a bath. It is so atrocious and so wild that at one point it literally felt like a top order batter stepping away and taking a blind hoick, similar to a tailender in hopes to connect as opposed to relying on your technique to score runs. All this while the format isn’t a T20 but a test match – do your math!
Story & Screenplay
Written by Himanshu Sharma and Neeraj Yadav, Tere Ishq Mein does pay homage to the character of Maddy (R Madhavan) from Rehnaa Hai Tere Dil Mein (2001) through the character of Shankar (Dhanush), a brother from another mother to Kundan from Raanjhanaa (2013). It essentially means a homage within a homage with traces of authenticity that the makers assume is the need of the hour here. So Shankar is a Tamilian in New Delhi who suffers from anger management issues, given that his opening scene in a flashback sequence has him run behind and beat up a fellow student at a college in DU. His soul resembles Maddy even while he takes wild swings with the use of rockets that he lights and throws at the folks in the campus for no rhyme or reason. He is compared to a broken wall hanging by a character at some point too. Unlike Kabir Singh, he is a rebel without a cause until he meets his soulmate of toxicity, Mukti (Kriti Sanon) – a student working on the thesis of male rage and violence, equating it to an appendix that can easily be removed as a virus in the body. And we haven’t even got to the weird part yet, do stick around already!
One of the initial issues that I had was the representation of trauma that has always been divisive in an Aanand L Rai film. Be it a young girl reimagining her father as her ex, or a dwarf being sent to Mars when he wishes for some ‘space’ – the slogs have already been wild. But here for Mukti wanting to cure Shankar of his alpha male-ness and rage while making him a guinea pig of sorts for her social experiment has got to be the most ridiculous idea yet. The counter would instantly be – what is wrong Farhad? Isn’t that a noble deed even if it is for Mukti’s thesis? The answer is a yes for being problematic in gaslighting an individual into making him fall in love with her with the most basic tropes.
For instance, volunteering to be slapped by a bus conductor is Mukti repointing the violent streak to the character opposite to Shankar, just to get her job done. In her words, it was about converting an animal into a human while FALSELY showing affection – and by that I mean also stripping in a hotel room to give him some ‘fun’, only to be turned down because the animal has fallen for her, and NOT her body. Tch tch…who writes this bullsh*t in 2025.
Even from Shankar’s POV, the trauma that he speaks about – a frequent verbatim about his skin burning given that his mother had died at a young age to a blazing fire – offers no real justification about his brash self. To be fair when Mukti is upfront in saying that there is no chance of her to fall in love with him, Shankar still doesn’t take no for an answer – almost wanting to commit himself to a jilted lover who would set the city of New Delhi (that laughably alternates as Mumbai in a few shots that are passed off as New Delhi) ablaze! The case in point being a scene wherein he threatens Mukti to either choose between him or another man by setting one of the two ablaze. It is another chapter written for the toxic paglu gang that will flock the theatres once again while patronizing this piece of sh*t.
The wild swings just don’t seem to end, even as the batter feels that he is in control of the innings that reads 0/5 in a cricket match. The events just go around in circles – he is interested, she can’t say no fearing a backclash, he is gaslit into studying UPSC out of nowhere almost like Satyendra (Rajkummar Rao) from Shaadi Mein Zaroor Aana (2017) while giving him a 12th Fail (2023) montage like sequence, he returns but it is “almost” too late given her fresh innings with her Mr Perfect, he lights his cigarette and her home, she slowly has feelings for him but just when a character hilariously dies against the run of play, mythology enters the chat (wherein the term spiritual sequel is taken way too seriously). In the same breath, logic leaves the chat. And yes, you need mythology as a shield when the writing is trash!
The non-linear style of narrative is only used as an intriguing fluff here, given how Shankar and Mukti’s world cross paths against the backdrop of an airforce base that is beeming with chaos given the war that is escalating. Shankar is still a rebel being grounded for defying orders, Mukti now heavily pregnant (BC Bachcha Kiska Hai Was An important subplot), is the female version of Kabir Singh lighting cigarettes for fun when all she could have done is continued staying in Delhi’s own air infected by pollution. The arcs are reversed, the uno reverse card is presented but the wild slogs don’t end. A random reference to a labourer’s sweat mixed with wild swings with references to life and death amidst the tadka of mythology later, you witness one of the most baffling finales ever for an Indian film. But you know the film has faltered when an emotional scene is met with an unhinged dose of laughter from the audience. It is a nod to Raanjhana but possessing the soul of Milap Zaveri’s Ek Deewane Ki Deewaniyat (2025) except that it is Shankar who avenges Kundan’s death here in a two-way tie. So much for taking a bullet for your clan! Terrible is the word, atrocious is the word and ridiculous is the word. Oh and yes, Long Live Toxicity!
Dialogues, Music & Direction
The dialogues get the intensity of a jilted lover just right but the lines get progressively bad here. From ‘Meri Khaal Jal Rahi’ to ‘Main Marne Ke Liye Jeeta Hun’ to ‘Main Jeene Ke Liye Marti Hun’ and some references to a labourer’s sweat, tell you the full spectrum of disgust that the drama treads on. The music by AR Rahman has a visual connotation to it that works in the vicinity of the drama (although the songs individually are forgettable) – in a sequence Shankar imagines a dancing version of himself to woo Mukti, in another you see Shankar reimagining his mother through his father in what felt like a nice little moment created. But the music deserved some better writing that ought to have been more assured as opposed to wild slogs, ball after ball (or here, scene after scene).
The cinematography is overindulgent with the kind of emotions that the characters possess here, wherein every frame remaining a significant contributing factor to the AQI of Delhi. Characters lighting cigarettes just to showcase their intensity and madness is passe and extremely repetitive at this point. And even when a few visuals score, the ever-shifting tone absolutely crashes this juggernaut of a drama, that increasingly becomes unintentionally hilarious. Picture this – Shankar is carrying a heavily-pregnant and bleeding Mukti to an operation theatre, when a random character randomly reminds him to take air clearance from her against a war that is escalating. It tells you everything that is wrong with the drama here. The editing pattern refuses to acknowledge logic through its scenes. In a scene, you see Shankar randomly walking into an IAS officer’s home while setting it ablaze, not before locking his friend and his father at his own home (that has a double door). And the very next scene involves, Shankar’s father walking up to the IAS Officer’s home in order to apologize. How did he manage to get out? Who helped them out? The connecting tissue is chopped off – a pattern that is repeated through the film.
Director Aanand L Rai is known to take wild swings in all his films – something that I have previously acknowledged as being ‘brave’. Yet, this bravery does significantly tow the line of idiocracy here in a drama that gets increasingly out of hand here. Look, Aanand L Rai is still a prolific director but the wild slogs here were far too many – more food on his plate than he could ever chew – resulting in a pandemonium that is nothing short of a disaster here.
Performances
The performances are decent by the members of the cast. Rama Krishna Dixit, Chittranjan Tripathi and Jaya Bhattacharya have a lesser screentime but they manage to do their bit rather effectively. Mohd Zeeshan Ayyub as Murari is phenomenal in a sequence that had no business to be there but something that works in isolation because of his presence. Vineet Kumar Singh as Shekhawat is superb yet again in what has been a memorable year for him. The veterans Prakash Raj and Tota Roy Choudhury as Yashwant are excellent here with most of the emotional core of the drama being exhibited beautifully by their performances. Priyanshu Painyuli as Ved has little to do here even as his character remains woefully underwritten unlike Mohd Zeeshan Ayyub’s character in Raanjhanaa that was more meatier while being mounted in the same mould. Paramvir Cheema is a phenomenal actor and while he is understated as Jasjit, I couldn’t help but think on how underutilized he remains here.
Kriti Sanon as Mukti does a good job here with her varied expressions and a good use of her body language, although her performance is letdown by a brainfade of an arc in the final act. Dhanush as Shankar manages to impress too although I did feel that his discomfort with the Hindi language is rather evident here. The idea of making him a Tamilian in a Hindi-belt setup was refreshing, but some emotions were lost in translation through a few Hindi lines that didn’t exactly land. It is the same complaint that I usually have with Rashmika Mandanna’s performances in the Hindi films that she is a part of. But on the expressions front, Dhanush remains solid even when the written material doesn’t support his character.
Conclusion
Tere Ishk Mein is ABSOLUTE CINEMA…………..errr…..Absolute Insanity! This remains an unintentionally funny refresher course of the toxic paglu genre featuring wild swings with facepalming results. And given that this film will invariably be patronized by the toxic paglu gang once again (just wait for the theatre videos of people crying and lying unconscious), this single green-flag film critic wishes to say just one thing – ‘Agle Janam Mohe Kabir Singh Hi Keejo’ (hope this green-flag film critic is reborn as Kabir Singh in his next life). Also, Long Live Toxicity! Available in a theatre near you.