I just finished watching Sultan.

But before I talk about the movie, I want to talk about Jag Ghoomeya as it pertains to me. I have indeed met men from so many cultures from across the world. And my soul’s quiet inner voice keeps asking “Dear husband, what is your ethnic group going to be?” Because once I know, I can sing the song to you.

My heart is divided — I fitted beautifully in Toronto but the way the heart would leap to India was otherworldly.

I quite often close my eyes to see if the subconscious yearning within me generates an image of a Caucasian man or an Indian man as my forever lover. Or would a blended mix of the two be the best fit for me?

I just feel I am very territorial in my love. I will own the man (in the romantic sense). And I can’t see that possibility with someone from another culture, because there is always the need to don a politically correct mindset out of respect for cultural differences. It is always easier for me to imagine taking the liberty of ripping a brown man’s shirt — the cultural familiarity helps me ease into my ‘boss’ lover personality seamlessly.

Sadly, there comes a disconnection on that wonderful fantasy from all my real-life stories so far. There is constantly a wavelength mismatch I find with the brown boys. It leaves me disappointed, sending me back to explore my multicultural options. Perhaps I have been assuming that romantic madness would come more naturally with a man from my own region, simply because I am more familiar with it. But the fact that it isn’t happening makes me wonder if there is something else at play.

I know, color doesn’t matter; it’s the heart and soul that has to align as the most important criteria. At the same time, roots, too, matter, because they are sort of wired in your mind. I have spent so much time with Caucasians, still I keep hunting for brown men, hoping somewhere between the hopping explorations, I will find my settling ground.

Now to the movie:

Sultan’s personality, around which the plot revolves, from being an unambitious wrestler, to being an arrogant one is a superbly important theme to be captured, because it is found in our societies. I might have some relatable experience on that front, too. Sometimes, we are not motivated to fight for any honorable position of success. When someone puts us to shame about being deficient, we can have the possibility of turning that pain into determination to prove our worth. I feel like that might have been the source of Sultan’s arrogance upon achieving success and thinking of himself as above others. I think this is where society is imparting the wrong method of raising young adults. Shaming might cripple someone to inaction, or take them to another extreme of taking action for a material pursuit at the expense of losing connection with their spiritual side. Ambition is not faulty, it has to be inspired in people, not thrust upon them injuriously.

I might be inclined to believe Aarfa’s rejection of Sultan for marriage, on not being good enough, created confusion within him, pushing him towards exceeding his limits and demonstrating his superiority to others.

Love shouldn’t be about belittling anyone. Aarfa could have gently told him to work towards his career so they could build a good life together, while love remained their centre. The movie didn’t hold Aarfa in a negative way because she clarifies her intent was only that Sultan appeared honorable from an emotional and practical standpoint, and not a show-off, which was yet another form of dishonor. But — I am afraid, I will continue to feel her initial humiliation created in him the psychological chaos that produced the results it did.

Losing a child is the most painful way perhaps anyone has to learn a life lesson. Sultan is that man, who loses his infant son at birth, due to not being around at the time of his birth to donate him blood, as he had prioritised career over family time. The event tested his physical and emotional resilience for a second time. He was motivated to take up wrestling to win the status of being Aarfa’s husband; now, he gets motivated for the second time to regain that status. The second time he launches himself as a wrestler is with a sense of balance. The ache of a lost child and estranged spouse keeps his inflated ego in check in an unmistakable way. Some lessons are learnt in such a hard way; evolution in a person is etched on to them.

The ending is a happy one, as we wished to see. Sultan is a successful wrestler against the odds, the husband and wife reunite and are blessed with a child again. Overall, it is a nicely done drama.

I feel the theme of this movie is very relevant to men. Somewhere, I do feel that most men who behave in out-of-control ways might have some underlying trauma associated with the heightened performance pressures society places upon them.

Lastly, Sultan was also a good treat for the eyes. Salman Khan has a charismatic star power. My own personality might be slightly resembling Mr Khan’s too (no, don’t worry, I am not so fond of danger, as he is 😅). Yet — we are both Capricorns, born one day apart (albeit, in different years), I do share the trait of being a party dancer like him. And maybe my love model of deep infatuation from my younger years also resembles his. Hopefully, we will join the married club soon — we both might have lost some prime time.