Ibbani Tabbida Ileyali Movie Review: Echoes of love and loss

In the tender spaces where dew drops kiss the morning grass and the sunshine bathes the Earth in a golden glow, a tale of love is reborn. Chandrajith Belliappa’s evocative blog, "Dew Drops, Sunshine, and a Blade of Grass," cast a spell on producer Rakshit Shetty, rekindling in him a dormant passion. The words wove themselves into his consciousness, planting the seeds that blossomed into Ibbani Tabbida Ileyali on a grand canvas. This film, however, is not merely a narrative; it’s an experience—a visceral journey through love, doubt, and the complexity of human relationships. All of this is told through 10 chapters from the perspective of the protagonist, Siddharth Ashok.

Director: Chandrajith Belliappa

Cast: Ankita Amar, Vihan, Mayuri Nataraja, and Girija Shettar

The film begins with a traditional family wedding, introducing us to Sid (Vihan), a young businessman caught in the throes of indecision. He grapples with the dilemma of whether or not to marry Radha (Mayuri Nataraja), a woman ten years younger than him. The story explores the delicate balance between care and love, questioning whether it’s fair to marry if one person cannot fall in love with another.

Radha, on the other hand, is a woman of quiet strength. Her dreams of a life with Sid are portrayed beautifully in the song 'Radhe', a melody that captures her inner world. Despite the age gap, Radha’s decision to marry Sid is not one of compromise but of hope—hope that love might grow where none existed before.

The film’s visual storytelling is as moving as its narrative. The flickering of a photograph, the symbolism of a ring, and the subtle expressions on the actors’ faces all contribute to the depth of the story. The tension builds as Sid’s true feelings begin to surface—feelings he struggles to articulate. Radha, however, misinterprets his actions, seeing them as playful rather than significant, which only adds to the complexity of their relationship.

Through flashbacks, the film reveals the roots of Sid’s hesitation. A Polaroid camera, used by a small child at the wedding, hints at a past that still haunts Sid. He is reminded of not just his mother, who once used a Polaroid camera to capture moments of his life, but also his former love, whose only photograph—a picture of a red postbox—becomes a symbol of memory and regret. Sid’s internal conflict is palpable as he considers calling off the wedding, not out of cold feet but rather of a deep sense of honesty—one that might be mistaken for cruelty.

As the narrative unfolds, we are introduced to Anahita (Ankita Amar), a non-Kannadiga, Hindi-speaking girl whose presence lingers like a shadow over Sid’s life, complicating his feelings towards Radha. The thin line between care and love blurs, leaving Sid caught between the past and the present.

The film’s pivotal moments occur as Sid, struggling with the memory of Anahita, navigates a tangled web of feelings for Radha. We see Sid revisiting memories of Anahita—memories that have haunted him for seven long years. The comparison between Radha and Anahita becomes inevitable as Sid wrestles with the realisation that his longing may not be for Anahita’s return but rather for the erasure of her memory altogether. This haunting drives Sid to a breaking point, compelling him to confront his unresolved feelings in a journey to Goa—a journey not just of physical distance but of emotional reckoning, in search of answers.

Chandrajith takes us back and forth in time, revealing the early days of Sid as a tough youth and a cricketer who stands firm for his college. However, he softens when he meets Anahita at a college fest, and the song ‘Ooh Anahita’ well explains about her. It’s love at first sight for Sid and Anahita, who is born on a leap year, celebrates her birthday on February 29, and has her own individual lifestyle—disciplined, introverted, and fond of capturing moments with her Polaroid camera. She loves speaking to flowers, and when she tells Sid early on, “You make me feel uncomfortable,” it perfectly describes her guarded life.

It takes time for a friendship to blossom between Sid and Anahita, given her nature. When Sid, with a finger ring in his pocket, finally expresses his love for Anahita, it isn’t the dreamy picture he envisioned. Cut to the present, a significant event on a rainy day symbolises both cleansing and the weight of emotions that have been carried for too long. The rain serves as a metaphor for the release of pent-up feelings, washing away the remnants of the past as Sid seeks answers in Goa. Here, the film captures the emotional turmoil of a man caught between the lingering shadows of a past love and the reality of Anahita’s present, and almost in a dead end.

Through a fleeting mention by Anahita of her mother's Kannada roots and her Bengali father, Sid uncovers the significance of the book Ibbani Tabbida Ileyali and a picture of a postbox. While the hints lead him to Goa, the question lingers: will they finally voice the love that’s remained unspoken?

The film’s conclusion is not just a traditional ending but a resolution, one that brings Sid face to face with his fate and with Anahita, the woman who has lived in his heart. As the rain pours down, the story comes full circle, blending the past and present in a way that is both poetic and deeply moving.

Ibbani Tabbida Ileyali leaves its audience with a sense of reflection, inviting them to ponder the thin line between care and love, the memories that shape us, and the inevitability of moving forward even when the heart longs to remain in the past.

Some highlights of the film include Radha’s solitary honeymoon, a bittersweet gesture that speaks volumes about her resilience. She carries on, even when Sid is unsure, showing a determination that is both admirable and heartbreaking. As the story unfolds, it becomes clear that Sid is not just struggling with his feelings for Radha but also with the past of Anahita, a woman who left an indelible mark on his soul. His journey to Goa, searching for answers, is symbolic of his need to reconcile his past with his present.

Then there is Sid’s mother, whose influence has shaped much of his life and her dream of him becoming a cricketer (although Sid abandons it for a reason). There is also a flashback, delicately woven through the narrative by a taxi driver’s recollection at Goa, which transports us 25 years into the past. Here, we encounter familiar faces, now aged by time and burdened by the weight of unspoken emotions. The film shows the threadbare connection between love and care and how easily affection can transform into something more complex. It also reminds us of the popular 1990s Dairy Milk advertisement where the girl gets into a cricket ground; only here, it is reimagined by Anahita in Sid’s presence at a football stadium. This brings us to the film’s heartbreaking conclusion, which delivers its emotional weight with subtlety, notwithstanding its predictability.

Ibbani Tabbida Ileyali is a film that asks difficult questions. Can love be rekindled where it has faded? Is it right to marry without love? And most importantly, how do we navigate the fine line between care and genuine affection?

The performances are uniformly good across the board, whether it be by Ankita Amar, Vihan, who does full justice to the director’s vision, or Mayuri, who takes brownie points for her portrayal of today’s practical yet emotional girl. Girija Shettar also makes a comeback after a long time with a key role.

With its poetic visuals from cinematographer Srivathsan Selvarajan, complex characters, Gagan Baderia's soothing background score, some melodious tracks, and outstanding performances, Chandrajith’s Ibbani Tabbida Ileyali feels like a cinematic reflection of his meaningful blog. The tale has been explored in various forms across cinema, and the narrative around medical complications might seem familiar, but what sets the film apart is the way it reverberates with the quiet pain of unspoken emotions.