I must admit that barring Ravi Kishan I did not recognise anyone in the cast. But once the film picked up pace, I realized that the entire team of actors were not acting. They were playing the characters assigned to them.

They were living it. Breathing it.

I get the feeling that once the director, Kiran Rao, briefed the actors, they just believed it could be their story, too. They delivered effortlessly.

Lapaataa Ladies is the one film that hits you after a long period of masalas, be it updated boy and girl or doing a desi version of  MI or a very badly made spy film. (Just like in all our thrillers we have a Pakistani involved fighting the common enemy.) Instead, what Kiran Rao has presented is a commentary on rural India. A commentary on women empowerment. A commentary on the lives of those who live on railway platforms. 

There is no role of religion. Yet there is a story of progress. A young girl running away to study organic farming is the big twist to the story, without the shackles of political sloganeering. The film gives you anxious moments. There is abundant humour. And yet there are caustic comments on the system — sports quota not only gets you a job, but also boiled eggs and a banana!

Veteran Ravi Kishan as Thanedar Shyam Manohar excels in his performance and from the beginning stays on till the end as the central thread of the story. Chaya Kadam makes Manju Maai come alive as the universal mother.

I noticed how many websites have classified Lapaataa Ladies as a Comedy/Drama, but it is all about the philosophy brilliantly captured in a dialogue — “Agar tu nahi hoti na, toh humko hum nahi milte!”

Go ahead, Kiran Rao, take a bow!