Kho Gaye Hum Kahan: Social media is a lonely place
“It’s the digital age. Sirf lagta hai zyada connected hai lekin shayad itne akele pehle kabhi nahi the” (It’s the digital age. It seems like we are more connected, but perhaps we have never been more alone). That’s the issue that Netflix film Kho Gaye Hum Kahan attempts to highlight. Directed by Arjun Varain Singh and co-produced by Zoya Akhtar (and others), Kho Gaye Hum Kahan follows the lives of three best friends: Ahana (Ananya Pandey), a corporate consultant; Imaad (Siddhant Chaturvedi), a standup comedian; and Neil (Adarsh Gourav), a personal fitness trainer. Through each character, Singh explores one major Gen Z theme, some more successfully than others.
Social media affirmation
The importance of social media affirmation in our lives is perhaps the strongest message in the film, and it particularly comes through in Ahana’s character. Ahana’s story centers around her long-time boyfriend, Rohan, who spontaneously takes a “break” three years into their relationship. After snooping around his Instagram with her friend, Ahana finds out that he is now dating a girl named Tanya, so their “break” was more like a “break up.” In a desperate effort to get his attention, Ahana posts pictures of herself in revealing clothes, goes on dates with other guys, and buys and wears loads of makeup.
Singh does a really good job of using Ahana to show how, during times of vulnerability, we turn to the impersonal, seeking validation from meaningless likes and attention we get on social media. Not only does Ahana desperately cling to the past and try to get his attention, but she loses her confidence. She quickly falls into the familiar mindset of blaming herself. I’m the problem. I’m not good enough. What does she have that I don’t? Instead of leaning back on her family and friends, she builds herself up with the shallow complimentary DMs from guys and, eventually, from the jealous texts that Rohan sends her.
At a point, Ahana’s character becomes frustrating and perhaps even insufferable. As an audience, we can see the traps that she keeps falling into. This naive behavior reaches a climax when Rohan finally gives her the attention she has been craving for months. And, as an audience, we know it’s not going to go the way she expects it to. But, this frustration that the audience feels toward Ahana is what also makes it all the more empowering and relieving when we see her stand up to Rohan.
Hookup culture
Singh also takes a jab at modern hookup culture, where he loosely ties in the effects of sexual abuse, with Imaad’s character. Imaad is a serial user of Tinder. Things get emotional for him when he connects with a girl named Simran (Kalki Koechlin), a photographer who wants to document Tinder users. He even moves in with her, all while continuing to use Tinder for sex.
Imaad’s character shows how loose the definition of relationships has become in society. But it’s only after we get a glimpse of his past – when Imaad decides to open up during a comedic gig – that we see where his fear of intimate relationships stems from. This scene is powerful and highlights Imaad’s character development–how he begins to accept his past and realizes its effect on his present life. But the entire segment is, unfortunately, quite rushed and awkwardly placed in the film. While I appreciate Singh’s efforts to bring some depth to Imaad’s storyline, the character would have benefited from more focus on his past.
A need vs want lifestyle
Through Neil’s character, Singh confronts Gen Z’s obsession with wealth and how that compares to the ideologies of older generations. Neil is a personal fitness trainer. Unlike Imaad and Ahana who have wealthier parents and live independently, Neil comes from a middle-class family and still lives with his parents. He aspires to make it big and, one day, own a gym. This aspiration makes Neil jealous of trainers who have high-profile clients, and sours his relationship with his father.
In the short scenes of confrontation between Neil and his father, the theme of generational conflict becomes quite apparent. In one scene, appalled that his son owns over 20 pairs of sneakers, Neil’s father remarks, “Your generation doesn’t know the difference between need and want.” In another faceoff, Neil asks his father, “Can’t you spend a little more? How long must you live like this?”
Through a mish-mash sequence of events, Neil reconciles with his parents and says, “All I saw were my shortcomings. I was so caught up with what I don’t have that I never saw or appreciated the things I have.”
Losing the plot
My main gripe with the film is its lack of organization.
About half an hour into the film, Ahana, Imaad, and Neil decide to open up a gym together. This scene is so heavily dramatized that the audience can only think that the next hour and a half of the film will be about the gym. But, no. The gym is essentially forgotten up until the very end of the film, where there is a two-second clip of the trio with sports equipment. It’s almost as if the production team realized that they missed the most important part of the film and stuck it in at the end so that the audience wouldn’t be left wondering.
Additionally, new details are loosely brought into the characters’ lives, overwhelming the plot. Throwing in random bits and pieces of other topics like consent takes time and focus away from the major issues, such as Imaad’s past with sexual abuse or Neil’s relationship with his dad.
Although Kho Gaye Hum Kahan could have been more impactful had it stayed focused on its three fundamental themes, the film pushes us to reflect on our relationship with social media versus those around us.
