The author is a lecturer of philosophy whose philosophico-poetic temperament and traditionally religious, mystical sensibility inform meditative reflections on theology, literature, psychology, and cinema.
29-12-2025
In the past century, the void created by the rupture of tradition and the widespread hostility or indifference toward God has been filled in various ways—or rather, one could say, people have developed methods of self-deception to cope with it. These coping mechanisms have, in the modern era, even acquired a kind of intellectual justification. In the post-nihilist mode of life, two elements in particular have gained widespread public acceptance and are often mistaken as answers to existential questions. Since the masses are generally caught in a state of self-unawareness, the modern individual—unaware of this inner void—seeks solutions in these self-created illusions without ever acknowledging, understanding and enduring the true nature of the crisis. These two easy yet inadequate and flawed answers are:
1) Passionate career
2) Romantic love
One may see Tamasha not merely as a cinematic journey of self-discovery, but as a reflection of a broader condition in the modern, post-nihilistic world—a condition where individuals, disenchanted by the collapse of traditional values and Divine grounding, attempt to reconstruct meaning through love and career. The protagonist Ved undergoes a crisis of authenticity. He escapes the suffocating banality of his corporate identity by turning toward two apparent sources of meaning: a passionate, artistic career and a romantic connection with Tara. The film treats both as redemptive forces, as if they are sufficient to rescue the self from existential despair. But this is precisely where the deeper philosophical critique begins.
After the collapse of inherited meanings—what Nietzsche might call the "death of God"—modern man finds himself adrift in a void. In the post-nihilist condition, the question of meaning is no longer answered by an external absolute. The temptation is then to flee from the abyss rather than dwell in it. In Tamasha, Ved's passionate career as a storyteller and his romantic reunion with Tara offer him stability and purpose. But are they genuine answers to the metaphysical question of life, or just comforting distractions? Both passionate career and romantic love can help us endure, perhaps even live beautifully, but they cannot answer the question of life. They are existential coping mechanisms, not metaphysical truths. Both of them are actually a flight from the abyss.
Tara is not just a character—she becomes a mirror and a muse. Love, here, functions as a redemptive lens through which Ved sees his true self. But in elevating romantic love to the level of salvific power, the film enters dangerous territory: it suggests that another human being can rescue us from existential loneliness. We insist that romantic love, no matter how deep, cannot bear the weight of ultimate meaning. It cannot replace transcendence. Similar is the case of passionate career. Ved's return to storytelling seems triumphant. He finds joy, expression, and a sense of ‘becoming himself.’ But even this passionate pursuit can be deceptive if it’s merely an attempt to distract from the deeper philosophical silence. Work, especially in capitalist modernity, often becomes a surrogate religion. We talk of "finding our calling," "making an impact," "doing what we love"—but these are secularized echoes of spiritual longing. The danger is that career becomes a performance of meaning, not the essence of it.
The point of this criticism is that the answer must be more subtle, profound, deep and well-rooted. Indeed. Philosophy, if it is honest, does not offer quick consolations. It asks us to remain in the question, to suffer it, to inhabit it. In Tamasha, what’s missing is precisely this stillness—the willingness to sit in the unresolved. The film hurries to resolve Ved’s existential dilemma with romance and career success. But meaning cannot be found like a destination—it must be cultivated, often in silence, and in relation to something deeper than the self. Whether one names that God, Being, Truth, or Love in the metaphysical sense—what is required is an anchor beyond the fleeting distractions.
In the post-nihilist world, it is tempting to reconstruct meaning on the surface—with beauty, with relationships, with personal triumph. But unless meaning is rooted in something beyond the ego—something transcendent or radically immanent—it remains provisional. Romantic love and passionate careers may help us endure, but they cannot answer the question of why to endure at all.
واللہ اعلم
Stills from Imtiaz Ali's Tamasha (2015)