Urmila Matondkar plays Naina with a bit of melodrama — after all this is a Bollywood film — and her overly grandmotherly grandmother (Kamini Khanna) rarely leaves her side. Yet, the coloration of the film, the cinematography, and, to some extent, the somber, bittersweet piano score are more indicative of a J-Horror-styled film.

Naina speaks briefly to a boy undergoing numerous brain operations, before she undergoes her surgery, but the scene is marred by the use of a really bad bald wig on the boy. At least I am sure it was a bald wig and not a bandage: either way, it confused both of us enough to distraction. Reading the subtitles, one also gets a sense for the poetic dialogue often used in Hindi films. I should add that it is also damned difficult to take notes when reading subtitles. No wonder you don't see many reviews of Hindi horror.

She undergoes the operation, and soon begins to see, through her blurry vision, creepy dark figures leading patients away. She also starts to hear spooky sounds, and has visions of dead people. Strangely enough, just about every dead person she sees is dressed in clean white, neatly pressed clothes. It is comforting to know that there are laundries in the after-life. No sense of fashion, just laundries.

Grandma soon pulls out the eligible bachelor photos for Naina to see, now that she can, and starts working the old marriage magic on her. But Naina is becoming more and more melodramatic as her visions become more unnerving. As Hindi cinema tradition would have it, the psychiatrist grandma brings Naina to for help is handsome, eligible, and infatuated with her loveliness immediately — it's love at first sight for both of them. A somewhat derailing Love Boat romantic montage ensues, and the horror portion of the film is put in the backseat as love is in the air.

"Wake me when we get back to the dead people," said Zombos.

I took a long sip of claret. Finally, we were back on track with the horror portion of our film. I nudged him awake.

Naina sees more dead people, and they now see her. From hanging guys (by the neck, that is, still dressed in clean white, neatly-pressed clothes, mind you) in restaurants, to little girls with little curls in hallways asking, "have you seen my mummy," she quickly becomes one highly strung individual. Her psychiatrist boyfriend thinks it's all in her mind (no, really), and she can't convince grandmother that creepy black figures and dead people are driving her to melodramatic heights.