My Name is Khan... and it is just a name.

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."

(-from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet)

No wonder Shakespeare is a literary great. After all, what exactly IS in a name apart from the fact that it is merely something that makes it easier for us to be differentiated from other people for purposes of identification and communication? Beyond this basic level, names almost always cause divides or insult or trouble - varying kinds and degrees of it.

For instance, the names we have given to various races, religions, castes or classes, what do they do apart from divide us and create differences? Differences that then lead to prejudices and discrimination and discord. And generalizations, of course. "You are 'so-and-so' (black/white/brown/muslim/christian/sikh/hindu/jew/aethist/Indian/Pakistani/Americam/etc), hence you are '_____'(any common stereotype of said 'so-and-so')"

It's not surprising then that Asperger's-afflicted Rizwan Khan, who is mentally incapable of understanding the differentiating tags that we the 'normal' people are so used to using, sets out on a journey to prove that yes, his name is Khan (that's Kkhhaan - mind you - from the epiglottis) and yes, he is a Muslim, but no, he is NOT a terrorist.

Karan Johar's latest film may be a tad over-the-top, perhaps even more than just a tad, and it may lack utter real-world relevance, but it is a story worth your time nonetheless, if only for the simplistic principal premise that it relies upon and broadcasts to viewers: there are only good people and bad people; there is no other worthy means of differentiation between people. Of course, you may argue that nothing is ever black or white; there are only shades of grey - and indeed it's true - but in any particular situation, you either choose the 'good' path or the 'bad', and that choice is what makes all the difference and defines who you are and what you stand for.

Rizwan Khan chooses to marry the woman he loves - so what if she addresses her God by a different name and prays to Him in a different way? And so what if our hero's brother insists that the woman is a Hindu and very different from a Muslim? Rizwan cannot see the difference - his Asperger's does not allow him to - and perhaps we too would be happier and less conflicted if we had the same disorder. How blissful (and constructive) it would be to view things with such crystal clear logic without the disorienting tints of emotion and deeper understanding that color our so-called 'normal' perceptions?

My Name is Khan is a touching movie: it strikes an emotional chord, maybe because of the lead character who, through Shahrukh Khan's impeccable performance, immediately has us empathizing with him, maybe because of the sensitive nature of the plot that grasps and holds on to our attention firmly, or maybe just because a film can't go wrong when creative greats like Karan Johar, SRK, and Kajol all team up for it.

It also nudges those brain cells into action and pushes you into thinking about the world and its inhabitants in a grossly simplistic manner. Honestly, haven't we oursleves given birth to the devastating political and social conflicts plaguing our existence today? From Israel-Palestine to India-Pakistan; from US-Afghanistan to the repeated bomb blasts and attempted blasts across the world, every problem is in the name of religion or nationality or something equally label-related. Is it all really worth it? I think not.

Of course, there will be lots of people who disagree; who don't think things can be so lucidly simplified to the bare essentials, who don't believe in the concept of an idealistic world, who want to fight for what they feel is 'right' - which could vary from their religion or their point of view. There will also be lots of critics of the film, who will label it as yet another post 9/11 flick with too much repetition and not much substance, who will put down the film maker and the actors and everyone involved without so much as stopping for a moment to appreciate the tremendous amount of careful thought and hard work and good intent that obviosly goes into any piece of creative expression. The pessimists will always be there, to say that nothing will change, to repeatedly declare that all efforts for peace and harmony will only go in vain, to callously assert that our world is way beyond repair now, to do anything at all but hope or pray or believe in the power of goodness and love.

But to all those people, all I say is this: 'Hum honge kamyaab ek din..' Indeed, "we shall overcome". Eventually. Just like Rizwan and Mandira do.