Mirai

First of all, it’s been forever since I last watched an Indian movie, so when I played on Mirai, I was in for a shock. Two hours and forty-six minutes?? My God. I almost felt like I’d just signed up for a long-term relationship.

But honestly? It was worth every minute. Unlike those old Indian movies where an hour was dedicated to dancing and singing (no shade, I miss them dearly), Mirai didn’t have a single unnecessary scene. Every moment carried weight, and the storytelling was tight. That’s one thing about Indian filmmakers, nobody builds characters and plot like they do.

Still, talking about old Indian movies makes me a little sentimental. I miss those days of Ashoka, Prem Di Kiwani Hoon, and that one movie where a snake goes on a revenge mission after they killed her mate (don’t act like you didn’t watch that one too, lol). Those songs still live rent-free in my head. The music, the costumes, the facial expressions, the drama! No one does cultural expression and femininity quite like Indians. They can make heartbreak look like an art form.

So, Mirai has nine powerful books, ancient, dangerous, and of course, one evil idiot decides to start collecting them. You already know where that leads. 😂

Vedha Prajapati is living a modest, rough-around-the-edges life, an orphan surviving by his wits and minor thefts. He doesn’t know who he truly is. But there’s a prophecy: after the Kalinga War, Emperor Ashoka endowed nine ancient grandhas, holy scriptures, with the ability to grant mortals godlike powers. These grandhas are guarded through time by secret protectors.

The villain, Mahabir Lama and his Black Sword army are collecting these grandhas to amass power and dominate. Eight of the nine have already fallen into Mahabir’s hands. Vedha, guided by the wisdom of spiritual allies like Vibha and Sage Agastya, gradually learns that he is destined to protect the ninth grandha, Amaragrandha, and to stand against the darkness threatening to engulf the world.

What I love about Indian fantasy: they take mythical, spiritual, sometimes downright outrageous concepts and make them feel alive. The worldbuilding reminded me a bit of Bahubali, grand, layered, full of flying men, fire, destiny, and devotion.

And look, I won’t lie. Some things felt a little too over the top for my adult brain. But did I enjoy the sky-high flying and shameless fantasy? Absolutely. I love that Indian fantasy doesn’t try to mimic Western storytelling. It stays rooted in its own mythos, colorful, emotional, slightly dramatic, and proud of it.

Let's talk about the love story. Because, of course, there has to be one. 😂 Tell me why this man fell in love like 20 minutes into a 3-hour movie? Not “getting to know each other,” not “slow-burn romance”, straight to “marry me.”

Now, the pacing… hmm. For a movie that lasted almost three hours, it still somehow felt rushed in parts. Important emotional moments didn’t have enough time to breathe. Especially the ending, it didn’t land for me.

Yes, I loved the symbolic tie to his mother’s death and the whole burning scene, but come on. He’s human (at least at that point), and he just stood there like fire was room temperature? No flinch? No struggle? Not even one scream? Nah. I wanted to feel that pain, that inner breaking before victory. Instead, it felt like a mimic of suffering, not the real thing.

Now, Ambica. My God, WHO IS THAT WOMAN?! Her performance gave me everything, grace, emotion, and that old-school Indian movie fire. She reminded me of when Kareena Kapoor or Aishwarya Rai ruled the screen. It was pure nostalgia.

And her son? The main character? Beautiful work. Together, they brought that raw, emotional intensity I’ve always loved about Indian cinema.

The villain though… I almost hated him in real life. How can someone be that twisted? Life gave him lemons, and instead of making lemonade, he swallowed them whole and got bitter from the inside out. Pitiful and powerful at the same time.

Honestly, Indian fantasy movies are not what I watch to “learn.” I watch them to feel. The drama, the magic, the emotion. If I were to dig deeper, sure, I’d say Mirai speaks about purpose, fate, and walking one’s destined path. But mostly, I just enjoyed being taken on a ride through a world that didn’t need to make sense to be magical.

Because the pacing and ending didn’t sit right with me, I’ll give Mirai a solid 6/10. But don’t get me wrong, I loved the story, the acting, and the nostalgic reminder of why I love with Indian cinema in the first place.

Now, someone tell Bollywood to bring back the musical numbers and the heartbreak songs. I miss screaming “Tere liye” at the top of my lungs with no idea what it means. 😂