My Mother's Girlfriend

By a stroke of pure serendipity - much like that fortunate happenstance with Varun Grover's "KISS" (and yes, you should check out my review for that one!) - I found myself stumbling upon Arun Fulara's "My Mother's Girlfriend." And what a tender, liberating little ride it proved to be. It unfolds not merely as a short film, but as a whispered story of quiet revelation.

This film, in its very essence, offers such a fresh and genuinely good take on Sapphic sexuality, imbued with a soul that feels utterly pure and it's desi too. I know there exist countless films about families accepting gay daughters or sons, or instance, coming-out tropes; but this one's genuinely different. Here, it's the son who grapples with coming to terms with his mom's relationship. The way he finds out, and every delicate moment leading up to and flowing from it, is captured with an exquisite grace. It emerges as an incisive commentary on familial acceptance, subtly yet powerfully illuminating how our most personal truths delicately shape the contours of our shared reality.

Even the intimate scenes, where the mother and her lover simply revel in a day of pure bliss and making love within the city's embrace - are handled with so much grace. The film navigates everything from the tender sensuality to the heartfelt dialogues without a hint of vulgarity, feeling impossibly real and beautifully un-animated.

And just as some films find their magic in grand gestures, "My Mother's Girlfriend" finds its own charm in the small, intimate details. Remember those moving emojis in Santosh's car? They're practically characters themselves, especially by the end! That's both cute and deeply revealing, adding a delightful touch to this beautiful story.