No, I don't want to listen to anything, Nosy-Lata.
-Ayushi, just tell me one thing. -What?
What did the designer say to our cropped-hair daughter-in-law?
"Have a fling with me"?
"See my nude pics"?
Grandma, why don't you go to Delhi and ask Napoleon yourself?
You can see his nude pics too!
-What nonsense… -What are you saying?
What if he sees me and falls in love with me?
Then you take him to an eye-doctor for a check-up.
Chandu, please send the statements quickly.
-Ramesh. -Yes?
You were there too.
What did the designer say to Tisca?
Tisca was about to tell us but Sanju took her away.
Where did they go?
The interior designer whom I've called
is such a darling
that you'll say…
"Why don't you only become a part of my home interior?"
And how do you know him?
He's my ex-husband.
Why?
Because I cheated on him.
-What?! -Gossip.
Dad (Ramesh. M. Dholakia).
I'll cut it again.
Look, he declined the call again!
Our son and daughter-in-law are keeping secrets from us.
Must be some personal matter.
What "personal matter"?
I had gas the other day yet I told everyone about it.
Everyone realized it even before you told us, Hemlata.
-Shut up. -It was no ordinary gas,
it was totally toxic.
Pallavi made such yummy parathas.
That was good…
Again?
At least do it silently, Gas-lata.
Let me eat something, then it'll be silent.
-Oh God! -You are impossible, Grandma.
Keep laughing, everyone.
Our family is falling apart and you guys are least bothered.
-You always exaggerate, Ramesh! -Yeah.
Please understand, Ramesh.
Sanju, Ayushi, Tisca…
-they will always be our children. -Yeah.
But they are not kids anymore.
Such wise words, Pallavi.
You are the "Number One" daughter-in-law. Number--
Hey.
What's this?
Pallavi, throw away Ramesh's briefs.
-But why? -Come on.
A badminton net has fewer holes than this does.
Why throw away a nice pair of briefs?
-Right. -Give it to me.
I'll tear it and use it to clean the kitchen platform.
-Okay? -Absolutely not. Why?
Then what will you do with this air-conditioned undie?
He'll make a mask with it and sell it. Isn't it, Dad?
Why are you guys after my briefs?
You're always interested in my personal things.
Right?
Throw this, don't throw that. This one has holes, etc.
But I can't even ask Sanju--
Today, he has gone to meet the interior designer of his new apartment.
-So? -The woman that keeps saying "aww"…
has taken them to meet him.
Why didn't he take me along?
What's the point of getting upset about this?
When Sanju returns, just ask him, "Why didn't you take me along?"
And I'll ask Cropped-hair, what that naphthalene told her.
There goes Gossip-lata, Grandpa.
There he comes.
He is my "as reliable as a Parsi-owned car" friend, Jacky.
And he's my newest partner in crime Sanjay and his wife, Tisca.
Actually it's, Sanjuoy.
Oh, should I say the name with my mouth full?
You see, numerologically, this name is dynamic for me.
Yeah, but phonetically, it's very anemic.
Listen you are--
Look, Tisca, two alpha males started fighting like dogs.
I know…
You'll are supposed to be working together, idiots.
Get to some business.
Sure.
Oh yeah, and, I have some references ready.
These were always ready.
You've only downloaded them.
-Please shut this. -I spent a lot of time--
See, I have a very simple rule.
Either I create my own original design…
or I resign.
Wow! I like that.
I mean, haven't we seen where plagiarism takes us, Sanjuoy?
Bang on!
See, that's how it's said.
San… "juoy".
And it is lucky for me.
This is going to be one hell of a journey.
Eat it while it's hot.
Okay, family listen!
Where's Mom?
You know how your Aryan goes for painting classes…
but he hasn't moved there permanently.
Someone needs to go and pick him up.
She has gone to get him.
You're never at home, so she has to do all this.
Do you want Thai curry, son?
Yes, add some spicy gathiya…
to the Thai curry.
And a "phulka" and "dhokla".
Dad, have these sweets.
-Napoleon Mahapatra told me-- -What did he say?
He has offered me a chance to work with him.
-Wow. -Yes.
He actually said…
my copy of his design is a vast improvement on his own one.
I've received an official email
to join the Mumbai workshop team of designers.
That is wonderful, Tisca.
-That's amazing, congratulations. -I know it's--
-Sheela. -Hello, who is this?
Hemlata
Hemlata…
-Hey, what's your salary? -Grandma, hang up.
-Why? -Just hang up.
Hello?
I mean, we haven't finalized anything.
Why did you tell everyone?
They are family, Sanju.
No, no! Go ahead and hide it from us.
Keep everything secret!
Bought an apartment, keep it secret.
Got a new job, keep that a secret too.
Got the interior design done, keep it secret.
Dad, nothing has been finalized yet.
We've only just met Jacky.
He has just seen the layouts and--
Just be straight with him, tell him your problem.
Dad, Sanju doesn't like your choice and taste.
Hello.
My choices?
You have a problem with my taste?
Yes, I do.
Dad, your choice is very typical.
Like a Gujju with a capital G.
-Right? -Yeah.
Light-blue shirt with dark-blue pants.
Light-blue socks with a dark-blue belt.
Underwear will be dark-blue too.
-Matching. -No, I don't match the underwear.
I buy only dark-blue ones so that stains can't be seen.
Seen by whom?
I mean, generally…
Hello.
Tell me something.
If I like matching my shirt, pants and handkerchief…
does it mean I have bad taste?
It's not bad, Dad.
-Then? -It's… it's safe.
It's boring.
Like, putting ketchup on pizza.
-Pasta with garlic chutney. -Of course!
It's my mistake.
I've made a big mistake!
Sorry.
Very sorry.
Your father is not fancy!
He's backward.
What can I do about it?
What?
Suresh left to explore the world, saying…
"Whatchamacallit!
I want to live my dream" and went to America.
I had to work at Papa’s Always Chemists shop.
From the age of 19, I’ve been working at the shop.
Hello.
And till date…
I've only taken a holiday once in a new moon.
-Dad-- -No, Tisca.
-Let me say it out loud. -Once in a blue moon.
Tisca!
See…
I don't even know this!
Do you know?
When a neighbor falls ill…
with typhoid, dengue, malaria…
why does this Ramesh. M. Dholakia gets so happy?
-Why? -Because…
that's when I feel important.
Hello.
But…
Do you want some khichdi, son?
Yes.
Add some…
Manchurian gravy and ghee to it.
-And masala papad with schezwan sauce. -Okay.
Sure, I'll add soya sauce as well.
You'll like it with the khichdi.
Never mind, Baa…
-Dad. -Dad…
-Ramesh. -Come on, Dad!
You shouldn't leave the table without eating, son.
I'm sorry.
Sanju…
your father is right this time.
Hello.
Listen to me…
Listen to what, Papa?
Understand what?
If my children go further in life than I have, that's great.
But…
couldn't they take their father along with them?
You have let go of my finger, son.
But I haven't let go of your hand.
Such wise words!
Hello.
Pallavi keeps saying…
"It's their own life. "
That might be true but,
these relationships and new-generation families…
I don't understand them, Papa.
-It's wrong. -Yes.
Then it's time to correct this.
Tisca, you were suggesting a holiday, weren't you?
-Yes, Grandpa. -Let's finalize the holiday plan.
We'll have fun…
and iron out our issues as well.
This time we'll go to Matheran.
Matheran?
We haven't been there in ages. Too good!
-Great idea, Dad. -Too good.
-Isn't it? -Yeah.
Great idea, Dad.
-I'll inform Pallavi. -My dear Daddy.
-What… -That place we'd gone to…
Hello.
-What is it? -We're going to Matheran…
-So? -It's Mom and Dad's anniversary that day.
Yeah!
-Listen, I have a plan. -Yes?
-What? -Hello.
Again?
That phone.
It is Sheela Auntie.
-From 8:30 to 12:30, "Hello! Hello!" -Answer the phone.
-Hello. -Yes?
-Goodnight, Sheela Auntie. -Okay, goodnight. Bye.
-You know what you have to do, Dad. -Of course.
-Only for you. -All the best.
My dear Daddy!
-We've almost reached the spot. -The iron is getting hot.
Yeah…
It'll soon smoothen all creases in the relationship.
-Nice selfie… -Fingers crossed, Grandpa.
-All the best! -Where are you going?
-There's no toilet in this train. -Ramesh…
Oh no, he's about to jump out of the train.
Don't commit suicide, Ramesh. Sanju won't move out.
I will not wear a swimming costume.
Was Hemlata thinking of wearing a swimming costume?
Wait! I'll jump off the train too!
Stop the train! Ramla…
-Yeah! -Hey…
What are you doing? What's going on here?
-What have you told him? -Wait…
Is something wrong?
-Go, Dad! -Hey!
-That's sweet. -Anniversary surprise…
Oh my God!
-Go, Dad! -Oh my God!
-He's opened up! -Nice.
Two hearts coming together
But secretly…
Right?
-The other one… -Yeah.
Ramesh, I love you. Thank you so much.
Our hearts are restless
Wow, Ramesh.
You've been hiding this from us.
You sing as well?
Ayushi, is he singing?
Remix!
Come to me…
-Go to him, someone! -Come to me…
-Next line, Ramesh. -Come to me…
-Photo. -Me?
Photo, guys…
Papa, children…
-Smile. -Make this trip unforgettable, Ramesh.
-What do you mean? -Sing a song.
Our hearts are restless
Waiting…
I'm nervous--
Waiting…
I'm nervous…
That's the correct tune.
-Correct tune? -Wow! Our very own Ramesh Mangeshkar.
Our very own Elton Dholakia.
But he is a legend.
I'm just a novice, Baa.
Wow, Dad.
Finally you're opening up.
-Yes. -Don't you ever stop.
Set your hidden talent free.
Show everyone in Matheran.
Sing another song.
-Baa… -That's enough.
Do something or the leopards will attack us!
There are no leopards in Matheran.
They will come, when they hear him sing.
-What is this? -Baa!
-Yes? -Come here, Baa. We're cutting the cake.
-Come here. -Yes.
That stupid chef.
-He doesn't know anything. -What's wrong?
He's added onion and garlic to the food.
It's "Ekadashi" today…
how can we eat starters which contain onion and garlic with champagne?
-Tell me! -Then don't drink champagne today.
Have you lost it?
-Have you opened it? -Don't worry, Baa. I'll take care of it.
Hello, everyone. Good evening.
The Blue Soil Resort welcomes you to our special karaoke night.
-Sing, Pallavi… -Lovely.
-Go along… -Karaoke?
-Ramesh, why don't you go and sing? -Yes?
We're dead meat!
-Come with me. -No, Baa.
-You-- -Wait. Ramesh coming.
I'll feel shy in front of all these people.
Why will you feel shy?
You're not going to strip and sing!
Mom, get ready for a love song.
You all get ready for riots!
They'll throw stones at us.
Mom, Grandpa… ask him not to sing, nicely.
-Too late… -Jai Shri Krishna.
Myself Hemlata Mansukhlal Dholak--
The microphone has conked out.
-What happened? -Hold the microphone away.
Like this?
-Okay. -I would like to request my son Ramesh
to sing a song for his anniversary today.
A few songs.
-"A few songs"? -Start.
Baa…
Yes!
Today, I'm going to sing a song…
from the movie Raja Hindustani.
Sung by Mr. Udit,
Alka Ma'am…
and Sapna Ma'am together.
-May they all forgive him. -May they all forgive him.
But, today it'll be my solo performance.
O foreigner, don't go
Don't leave me…
-Ramesh. -Dad!
-Come here… -Dad.
-Ramesh, come down. -Get back, Dad!
-We're about to cut the cake. -Come down.
-Wait… -Thank you.
-Come on here.
-Once more. -Oh no!
You can start, Shahrukh Khan.
Our hearts are coming together…
But secretly…
The same song again, Grandpa.
Our hearts are coming together
But secretly…
Aryan!
I'm nervous…
-Granny, he's complaining again. -Yes?
He's not complaining, he's singing.
-Singing? -The next one.
-Grandpa, where is your fortune-teller? -He'll be here soon.
He's here! Hurry up.
I have to see Ramesh's palm.
-Let's go! -You have to read it, not see it!
-Let's go. -I hope you remember what I told you.
Ramesh…
Hemlata, he's a very good palmist.
He's very accurate when it comes to telling the future.
And the past too.
Correct.
-The past too. -Please take a look at my Dad's palm.
-Ramesh. M. Dholakia. Take a look. -Take a look.
-Please sit. -Sit here.
-Come here. -Take a look at his palm.
Please sit.
-Read my palm first. -Hey…
Grandma…
why bother about the future at your age?
Rubbish. I have a long future ahead of me.
Move. Go on.
I don't read women's palms.
-Yeah… -Right.
He's for gents only.
-Dad… -Tell us Ramesh's future.
You deal in medicines, right?
Yes. Always Chemists.
Bandra, Wadala, Lower Parel, Juhu and three more franchises.
He knew this before he looked at my palm.
Correct.
Because Ramesh's details are written on his father's face.
Isn't it?
Actually…
-I… -Yeah?
I can see your face and tell the future.
There will be a big change in your family.
Look!
He knows this as well?
-My son… -Sanjuoy?
He knows the name too.
You know what, Mr. Fortune-teller,
he's thinking of moving into a separate apartment.
We have a four-bedroom apartment in Bandra.
-All of us live together. -Go on…
You shouldn't sing. It's dangerous!
-There might be an accident. -Okay…
An accident caused by singing?
I get it.
-Come with me. -Where?
Let's go. You too, Ramesh.
You fool. Tell me this girl's future.
I told you…
I can only tell a man's future, madam.
Just consider her a man.
Take a look at her hair, it's shorter than your nose hair!
-Go on, tell us… -She's on a call with Napoleon, Grandma.
So what? She's holding the phone in the other hand.
Come on.
What is her profession?
Tell them I'm on the phone.
Her profession is…
I can't read English.
Hey, let me speak to Napoleon…
I see.
Show me your hand. Show me.
Great!
Ayushi, now write it in Marathi.
Listen to me…
What do you mean?
Your father has given him all details before getting him here.
-But why? -To stop you from singing. Why else!
An accident will happen, it's dangerous, don't sing…
-Yes! -Yes!
-Accident and other rubbish! -Papa!
I'll be right there, Pallavi.
But I haven't called you, Papa…
-I'm going there nevertheless. -Okay.
-Papa. -You stay here.
You heard what Napoleon said to me?
I didn't "heard".
What did Napoleon say?
What are you saying, Mummy!
Your father paid 500 rupees to that fortune-teller,
to say this.
To tell you the truth, Suresh.
I am not a patch on Ramesh.
He sings all songs same like the original.
-All songs? -Yes.
-All the songs he sings sound the same. -Okay…
You should have said this to me directly.
I am talented in a different way.
How? Differently vocabled?
Don't make it worse, Papa.
I'd said, tell Dad directly.
-But you were enjoying it. -You're one to talk.
I've asked you so many times…
what that naphthalene or what is his name…
-Napoleon, Baa. -Yeah Napoleon.
What did he tell you over the phone?
Napoleon has given Tisca a terrific offer
not at the Mumbai workshop,
but at his main workshop in Delhi.
To work as his Chief Associate.
So she's moving to Delhi?
And leave her family behind?
Leaving little Aryan behind?
-Just… -Next month, Monday I'm going to Delhi.
What "next month Monday"?
Do you know what the date adds up to?
It's 13. It's a very unlucky number.
Anyway, I won't allow you to--
-What? -Oh, Numero-illogical Dholakia
you don't own her, you're just her husband.
So? What's wrong in obeying her husband?
Idiot!
-Don't cuss. -I will.
Mind your own business.
Isn't it the duty of a wife to obey her husband?
-Speak softly, people-- -Don't interrupt me!
Blah blah blah…
You! Cropped-hair, thick-skinned…
Hey, listen…
…listen to me carefully…
Call Napoleon and tell him, "I'm not going to Delhi".
Is that okay, Sanju?
Yeah.
Hello, Indians!
What is the issue with Delhi?
-Grandma! -Tell me something.
If Diana gives you a promotion and sends you to
Dubai or Singapore, will you--
But mine is a proper job, Grandpa.
I'm a partner too! But it's her hob--
No, complete it. Say it! Hobby?
I didn't mean that. My point is not that.
Then what?
-She can't just leave… -Look, everything that's happening…
If your wife left, would you like it?
Grandma, Nursing-home Auntie is calling.
-Shifting right now… -Why?
-Just say it. You just said it. -Hello.
-Who is this? -What "who is this"?
You can see me, I am Ayushi.
How are you, Ayushi?
How is Matheran?
Have the creases been ironed out?
No chance, the iron itself has conked out!
-How much? -Qua--
She's asking me the quantity, Grandma…
-Give the phone to Grandma. -What's going on?
-Grandma. -What do you mean, Ramesh?
-For a job? -These two…
-they're with us now… -But, Ramesh…
yet they're facing problems.
What does them moving out have to do with this?
Hello! Oh, House of the Crazy!
Where is Aryan? Has anyone seen him?
-What? -What?
Aryan?
He must be outside. I'll go look for him.
-Aryan… -Where are you, Aryan?
-Aryan… -Aryan who? Sanju's son Aryan?
Would we have brought Shahrukh's son Aryan with us?
Bye.
Aryan!
Go look for him.
-Aryan! -Aryan!
-Go look for him in the kitchen. -Aryan…
Where did my boy go? Aryan…
-Where did you go?! -Aryan! Where are you?
-Where are you, Aryan? -Search over there…
-Hello… -Hello…
-Hello, Sheela Auntie. -Hello, who is this?
-Hello… -Hello…
-Hello? -Hello…