‘It’s always you’: Imtiaz Ali and Vedang Raina unpack toxic exes, nostalgia and the messy truth of modern love

Dubai: If there is one filmmaker who has built an entire career out of making people romanticise emotional chaos, it is Bollywood director Imtiaz Ali.

For over two decades, his films have celebrated yearning, longing and that stubborn human tendency to obsess over things we can no longer have. Think cult hits like Ja We Met and Cocktail, that he wrote. His lovers don't simply fall in love. They spend entire movies chasing memories, idealising people they can't be with and convincing audiences that emotional damage can occasionally look poetic.

His latest film Main Vaapas Aunga out on June 12 in UAE, starring Vedang Raina, Diljit Dosanjh and Sharvari, appears to continue that tradition. So when I sat down with Ali and his young leading man, I decided to get straight to the point.

Have we become culturally obsessed with love stories that never quite reach the finish line?

Imtiaz smiled.

"We always yearn for what is not," he said. "This is an age-old thing. We look before and after and yearn for what is not. What you leave behind therefore becomes precious and your memories make it even more fun. This film is also about that. It's about what you feel you have left behind, what got left behind, and your constant obsession for that."

It's the kind of answer only Imtiaz Ali can give — one that sounds like a life lesson, a poem and a therapy session all rolled into one.

Which is precisely why I immediately turned to Vedang Raina and asked a far less philosophical question.

At any point while making the film, did he look at his character and think: this boy doesn't need a girlfriend, he needs therapy?

Raina burst out laughing.

The actor was even more amused when I suggested that his generation sometimes seems incapable of committing to anything - even a burger - for too long.

"You have a really bad impression of the generation that I come from," he said.

When I asked whether I was wrong, he diplomatically declined to answer directly before joking that while nobody should break up over a burger, pizza toppings could potentially become a serious issue.

Eventually, however, he agreed with my amateur diagnosis.

"Keenu, when he grows up, could definitely do with some therapy," he said. "He's a character who's gone through a lot of things. If he was in a time where a therapist was available, I feel like he would do with one. I feel like everyone should try therapy. Everyone has some sort of something that they would like to talk to a therapist about that they probably couldn't talk to anyone else about."

That may well be the most Gen Z answer ever given about an Imtiaz Ali protagonist.

Raina describes Keenu as someone completely different from himself, which was part of the appeal of taking on the role.

"Keenu is very far from who I believe I am as a person," he explained. "That was something exciting to explore."

One of the first things Ali told him about the character stayed with him throughout the shoot.

"Keenu is the type of person who speaks before he thinks," Raina recalled. "That was something that was often reminded to me. I think I'm a person who thinks a lot before speaking."

The actor went on to describe Keenu as an athlete who secretly wishes he were a poet, somebody trying desperately to belong to a more intellectual world.

"He's really just an athlete but he desires to be a poet," Raina said. "He's trying very hard to do poetry and maybe impress some girls in college, especially Jiya when she comes into his life."

Listening to him describe the character, it became obvious why Ali was drawn to him. Both seem fascinated by contradictions.

That led us into a conversation about romance itself and whether Ali would ever make a film about what happens after the butterflies disappear.

I confessed that my favourite chapter of Richard Linklater's Before trilogy wasn't the dreamy beginning or the romantic reunion. It was the third film, where the couple are married and fighting.

Because let's face it: the real work begins after the happy ending.

Ali immediately understood what I meant.

"There is something very, very romantic in quarrelling," he said. "The kind of quarrelling that is possible after many years of staying married and after having taken each other for granted, after having understood the needs and desires of each other. That's very interesting."

The filmmaker admitted he finds those long-term dynamics fascinating and sees elements of them even in his own parents' relationship.

But don't expect an Imtiaz Ali marriage drama anytime soon.

"I don't think I still have a story or I'm there yet," he said.

The conversation was becoming increasingly introspective, so naturally I decided to derail it.

For years, I have noticed something about Imtiaz Ali films. Even when they end happily, they often leave behind a trace of sadness. The lovers may walk into the sunset together, but there is usually a wound somewhere beneath the surface.

So I finally asked the question.

Who broke him so badly?

Raina immediately began laughing and accused me of slipping yet another double meaning into the interview.

Ali, meanwhile, responded with the patience of a man who has probably spent years being psychoanalysed by journalists.

"It's not what others do to you that hurts," he said. "It's what you do to yourself that hurts. Or what you do to others that hurts you."

I translated.

"So basically, you're the problem in the relationship?"

Ali laughed.

"Yeah," he replied. "It's always the person. It's always you."

There was something refreshingly honest about that answer.

Perhaps that's why his films resonate. They rarely paint heartbreak as the fault of one villain. Instead, they acknowledge that people are messy, confused and often responsible for their own suffering.

Raina certainly seems to believe Ali possesses a unique understanding of people.

Looking back on the experience of working with him, the actor became unexpectedly reflective.

"I've grown so much as an individual," he said. "Imtiaz sir is the type of person who really observes and is a good reader of people. Oftentimes he would analyse something about me in a way that nobody ever had before, not only from an acting perspective but also from a human being perspective."

In fact, Raina believes Ali is entering a fascinating new phase as a filmmaker.

"I feel like something has clicked in a very different way," he said. "His films are reflecting that and his writing is reflecting that."

One reason audiences continue to connect with Ali's work is his willingness to portray men in all their vulnerability.

At a time when hyper-masculinity often dominates popular cinema, his male characters cry, overthink, yearn and openly wrestle with their emotions.

When I suggested that might be his greatest superpower, Ali seemed pleased by the observation.

"I hope it is my superpower," he said. "It's difficult for men to show their emotion. I don't think how much one feels is a gender-specific thing at all."

Raina agreed.

"I don't know who decides that being vulnerable is a female trait," he said. "It's a human trait."

As the conversation wound down, I raised one final issue.

Should Imtiaz Ali films come with a disclaimer warning viewers against contacting former partners?

After all, generations of fans have emerged from his films suddenly convinced that the person who broke their heart five years ago might actually have been their soulmate.

Raina laughed.

"An Imtiaz Ali film could be one of the reasons you do that," he admitted. "But there are many reasons why you could want to go back to your toxic ex."

Not exactly a denial.

Ali then shared a quote attributed to the 13th-century poet Rumi, laughing about how people often misinterpret poetry about divine love as being about romantic partners.

Perhaps that's the perfect way to understand his films too.

For all the conversations about soulmates, heartbreak and exes, Imtiaz Ali's stories have never really been about another person.

They're about the versions of ourselves we leave behind.

And if Main Vaapas Aunga is anything to go by, he still hasn't stopped making nostalgia look irresistibly beautiful.