'Aap Jaisa Koi': Modern Love, Ancient Fears

Vivek Soni’s Aap Jaisa Koi attempts something both rare and necessary in mainstream Hindi cinema - centering a woman’s desire and holding up a mirror to the deep-seated insecurities and double standards that underpin Indian masculinity. Starring R. Madhavan as the awkward, emotionally repressed Shrirenu Tripathi, and Fatima Sana Shaikh as self-assured, emotionally expressive Madhu Bose, the film delivers a story that is intimate, contemporary, and occasionally sharp.

The film opens with Shrirenu Tripathi, a 42-year-old Sanskrit teacher living with his brother and sister-in-law in Jamshedpur. He is unmarried, lives a secluded life, and is a virgin - he wears these characteristics not as badges of honour, but as scarring from a lived life in darkness. His life is one of monotony, isolation, and passive acceptance. However, his friend Deepak nudges him toward a voice-based dating app (AJK, or Aap Jaisa Koi), which sets in motion the first inklings of change. The premise of anonymity allows Shri to overcome his doubts - over rejection stemming from appearance, age, or lack of experience - and simply connect. His first encounter with a woman on the app is not come-hither or flirtatious, as you would suspect. Rather, he asks her what she ate for dinner, discusses his daily life, and for the first time, is seen. It is a powerful reminder that attention, when offered genuinely, has a siren’s beauty in the most unlikely way.

Soon after, through a marriage proposal brought by a neighbour named Joy, Shri meets Madhu Bose - an independent, warm, and stunningly beautiful 32-year-old French teacher. Their first meeting at the Kolkata Coffee House is endearing. Shri is surprised - not only by how pretty she is but by her carefree self-assurance and spontaneous curiosity about him. For one who has always remained in the background, Madhu’s arrival is like a dream. But insecurity, in turn, takes root where self-worth is fragile. Unable to believe in his luck, Shri, along with Deepak, decides to do a background check on Madhu. In a farcical but telling twist of fate, he uncovers Madhu’s past with Namit Agarwal (played by Karan Wahi) - a so-called modern man who had questioned her virginity. The affair came to an end a short while later.

The cracks start to appear when Shri realises that Madhu was the voice he had conversed with on the AJK app - the same woman who had made him feel heard and desired. Rather than be happy at the coincidence, his mind instantly speeds towards suspicion. Deepak stokes the fire, telling him that if she was on the app, she must have also spoken to other men. The double standard is evident: Shri’s being on the app is brushed aside, while Madhu’s is a reason to be suspicious.

This is where the film excels at its thematic center. Aap Jaisa Koi is not merely a love story; it’s the social prism through which love is viewed. A man such as Shri - educated, lonely, and awkward - still holds onto a definition of Indian virility that requires a wife to be pure, obedient, and without a past. When he calls off the engagement, it’s not Madhu’s past that condemns her - it’s Shri’s inability to believe in a woman who chooses, desires, and expresses. Madhu’s family, however, is liberal and egalitarian. The women are strong-willed and independent, and the men never attempt to dominate them. The clash of these two sets of values - Madhu’s world of liberation and Shri’s traditional upbringing - is the emotional strength of the film. It is a moment when the family is brought, willy-nilly, face to face with their hypocrisies. Desire, after all, is not gendered - and is unencumbered by the constraints of age or cultural permission. Shri finally understands that it’s not a matter of pasts or purity, but a matter of honesty, equality, and the right to choose.

There is a quiet, lived-in chemistry between Madhavan and Fatima that ultimately pays dividends in the quieter parts of this film. Madhavan’s understated performance expresses Shri’s inner conflict, while Fatima’s warmth is strong yet balanced with defiance. The dialogue is simple and efficient, but is at its best in moments of vulnerability when it’s revealed. The film isn’t perfect, though. Even at its brief running time, the script is still a bit meandering. Some of the subplots–with the supporting cast especially – are wasted or fall flat, the humour is hit-or-miss, and the film occasionally stumbles in switching back to the tone it introduces. Most importantly, the ending feels rushed and emotionally undeveloped. A film that starts with restraint and subtlety ends with a slightly sloppy, underwhelming ending that does not do much to stay.

All in all, Aap Jaisa Koi is an earnest attempt in exploring the themes of gender, desire and hypocrisy, particularly from the perspective of a man who is not a ‘hero’ in the classic sense. Obviously, storytelling flaws aside, there is something very emergent and timely about the film’s messaging momentum. It reflects that to genuinely love someone, we need to unlearn how love is supposed to look like - or whoever it is deserving of it.

VERDICT: The film wants to convey something substantial, but inconsistent writing and a rushed end can’t help but undermine that ability to make an effective impact. Strong in intent, weak in impact.

The writer can be reached at surbhi.mpost@gmail.com