The layered textures of the first half gradually give way to an uncomfortably black-and-white universe: the rest of the world in black versus Aamir in white. Every one of the teachers at boarding school is an offensive cartoon painted in the broadest of strokes, and cruel too – like the instructor who raps Ishaan on the knuckles with a wooden ruler. Aamir, by contrast, laughs and sings and clowns around (literally; his entry into the film is in a clown suit). Ishaan's father is so insensitive to his children's needs that he can't handle something as small as the elder son losing a tennis match. Aamir, by contrast, is so sensitive, he cries at the mere sight of children. He sees differently-abled kids perform in an Annual Day celebration – and his eyes well up with tears. He sees a kid mopping up tables at a roadside eatery – and his eyes well up with tears. He sees Ishaan's paintings – and his eyes well up with tears. It's no wonder that, at some point during his visit to Ishaan's house, he asks for a glass of water; you're not surprised, considering his constant loss of fluids.
I realise that came off a trifle mean-spirited in the face of a mainstream film so generous in wanting to tell a story that mainstream audiences are not used to – but the attempts at reconciling these realities were part of the problem for me with Taare Zameen Par.
