Chand Mera Dil Review
Do you still want to watch a 2010-style love story in 2026?
If yes, this film is for you.
If no, stop right here. This review is about to save you a ticket, a tub of popcorn, and roughly two and a half hours of your life.
The film is called Chand Mera Dil. And honestly? My heart went looking for the moon and never came back.
The Opening: False Hope, Beautifully Delivered
The film opens in college. The first scene hits and you think, “Wait, is this Kabir Singh energy? This might actually be fun.”
Ten minutes later, the film changes its mind. Suddenly it’s 2 States. And then, somewhere around the fifteen-minute mark, it derails completely.
But the real problem starts here, so pay attention.
Lakshya: A Performance Frozen In Time
Lakshya is in college.
Lakshya is also post-college.
The difference between the two? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
The beard length in college is the same as the beard length five years later. The face hasn’t moved. The energy hasn’t moved. Time itself seems to have given up on him. You genuinely cannot tell whether the story has progressed or whether you’ve been watching the same scene on loop.
Ananya: The Lone Flicker Of Hope
Then Ananya gets her first dance scene.
Her expressions? Genuinely good. For a moment, hope flickers. You think, okay, something is working here. Maybe this isn’t a disaster after all.
That hope lasts exactly until her second scene.
The Title Track: A Disposable Pleasure
The title track plays. You’ll like it. Genuinely.
You’ll also forget it before the film ends. By the time the credits roll, you won’t remember if it had lyrics, a tune, or whether you imagined the whole thing.
Whether this is Dharma’s magic or Dharma’s curse — your call.
The Story (Such As It Is)
Boy sees girl.
Girl sees boy.
They fall in love.
That’s it. That’s the same recycled Dharma formula they’ve been selling since flip phones were aspirational. Which was charming in 2010. Sweet in 2012. Tolerable in 2015.
In 2026? Even Gen-Z is too logical for this. The bachpana doesn’t land anymore.
Thirty minutes into the film, where are Lakshya and Ananya? Still at the first stage of falling in love. Bhai, why is this moving like a Sunday afternoon? If this film had released in 2010, maybe it would’ve worked. In 2026, the romance doesn’t even feel logical.
The “Big” Twist
Then comes the twist. Ananya gets pregnant.
You’re thinking, “Okay, now things will get interesting.”
Wrong. Absolutely wrong.
Even after the pregnancy reveal, there’s no urgency. No tension. No stakes. It’s treated like she announced she might switch her elective. Everyone just sort of… nods.
The plot, in full:
- They fall in love.
- She gets pregnant.
- Both families create drama.
That’s it. That’s the entire film. Nothing new. Nothing fresh. Nothing earned.
The Scene That Broke Me
Then comes the scene that genuinely made me question reality.
Both sets of parents are against the marriage. And who shows up to support the young couple?
The college principal.
Yes. The principal. Of their college.
The principal is rallying for the wedding. The entire college turns up to make sure it happens.
What is happening, bhai? What is this strange Dharma fever dream? Since when is academic administration the last line of defence against parental disapproval?
What This Film Is Actually About
Honestly? Strip away the Dharma sheen and Chand Mera Dil is a film about one thing only:
Making bad decisions early in life and then doubling down on them.
That’s it. That’s the message. That’s the entire emotional core.
And here’s the worst part — this film could have been genuinely lovely. It could have tackled real things. The struggles of becoming parents too young. Family pressure. Society’s judgment. The financial reality. The emotional weight.
Instead, the film just keeps sprinting after its fairy-tale ending, pretending the consequences don’t exist. That’s its biggest sin.
The Interval Question
The first half ends. You sit there, holding your half-eaten samosa, and ask yourself:
What’s so bloody good about this film?
What’s new here? What haven’t we seen a hundred times before? Why am I in this seat?
Second Half: One Fight, No Stakes
The second half brings the obvious struggles. The obvious conflict. The obvious confrontations.
Note the singular. Fight. Not fights.
Why? Because the girl doesn’t give the guy room to make a second mistake. One clash, and for her it’s already over.
So now we have to ask — why did Dharma blow up such a tiny disagreement into the emotional centerpiece of the film?
Because for the millionaires in Dharma’s universe, this is a big deal. There are no middle-class problems in their world. Only Rolls-Royce-sized inconveniences. And that’s the lens through which this entire film was written.
Remember a film where the wife walks out and files for divorce after one slap? Thappad. That kind of conviction. That kind of stakes.
This film doesn’t even get within shouting distance of that energy.
The Spoilers Section (Or Lack Thereof)
I’d put a spoiler warning here, except — the film is so hollow there’s nothing to spoil.
To give a spoiler, something has to actually happen. Something has to be worth protecting from the reader. Chand Mera Dil offers no such thing.
The Climax: Forced, Predictable, Exhausted
Honestly? The film has no climax.
The twist? You’ll predict it from the trailer. Hell, you’ll predict it from the poster.
To make the film feel meaningful, they end it exactly where it started. Full circle. The most exhausted narrative trick in the book. And the climax is so forced you feel nothing.
I watched people in the theatre. Genuine, paying audience members. By the third act, they weren’t even watching anymore. They were just murmuring, “Bhai, bas ye film kaise bhi khatam karao.”
End it. Any way. Just end it.
The Final Feeling
And when the film finally, mercifully, abruptly ends — you don’t feel happy.
You don’t feel sad.
You feel relief.
That’s the emotion Chand Mera Dil leaves you with. Not love. Not catharsis. Not even disappointment.
Relief.
The Verdict
Chand Mera Dil — 1 star out of 5.
And that’s being generous. That’s being kind. That’s me rounding up because Ananya’s first dance scene briefly made me believe in cinema again.
If you’re still planning to watch it, do me a favour — keep your expectations on the floor. Then dig a hole. Then keep digging.
You’ll meet the film somewhere down there.
