- Hm. What are you reading? - Hm?
The Overcoat, by Gogol.
- Gogol? - Uh-huh.
Never heard of him.
Syllabus?
No.
Just reading. My grandfather has given me the book.
- Seen much of this world? - I went to Delhi once.
Every year I visit my grandfather in Jamshedpur.
No, no, no, no, no. Not this world.
I mean England, America.
I was in England for two years.
It was like a dream.
Sparkling clean streets.
Nobody spitting on the road.
- Have you ever thought of going abroad? - No.
You should. You are young. You are free.
I'll tell you one thing, you must go out and conquer the world.
You will never regret it.
My grandfather always says that is what books are for -
to travel without moving an inch.
To each his own.
- Didi, why are you so late? - Hey, Rini.
Go, get ready quickly. Someone is waiting for you. Go.
Learn, Rini.
She loves to cook. She knits very well.
She knitted a cardigan in just a week.
And kids are crazy about her.
She's been learning classical music since childhood.
Here she is.
- It's OK. - It's OK.
Uh...
My son has been living abroad for the last two years.
He's in New York. He's doing his PhD in the field of fibre optics.
- Hm? - Hm!
Our daughter's best subject is English.
Ashima, recite something for us.
"I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd... "
"A host, of golden daffodils"
This was my father's favourite poem.
He used to read a lot, my father. Oh!
You sit. Sit, please.
My child, have you ever flown in a plane?
Will you be able to go halfway across the world,
live in a cold city with freezing winters?
Leave your house, far from your parents?
You won't get tired, will you?
- He'll be with me, won't he? - Huh?
You're starting a new life.
Take it to your heart.
But don't forget us.
It's a new life full ofjoy and happiness.
- Let me see. Let me see. - No, no, no.
Where are you?
It is a freezing winter day outside.
Bread. Milk.
Apple. Teem.
The rest we'll buy from the Indian shop after I come home.
- You're going out? - Yes. Three weeks are up.
Now, I have to go.
How are you feeling?
It will take you several days to recover. After all, you've just flown...
halfway around the world.
You go and rest. I'll bring you some tea.
Go.
It is the American way.
Go. Go, go. Take a rest.
- I don't want to. - OK.
Then sit down. Sit.
Here, we have 24-hour gas. See.
You just turn this and...
gas.
Hot and cold water, too. There are two taps.
Red one and blue one. Don't confuse between the two, you would get burned.
And you can drink water straight from the tap, no need to boil it.
The washing machine is just down the street. I will show you when I come home.
Now...
Once you are settled, I will take you to my department
and introduce you to my professor here.
You won't believe it.
In comparison to the professors here, even our street vendors dress well.
Just a minute.
No, no, no, no, no!
I am very happy, and everything here is wonderful.
The plane journey was long but enjoyable,
and I am feeling fine.
How is Rini?
The house is very nice - big, with lots of windows.
Do you know, over here we get gas all day and all night?
These have all shrunk. I mean, who asked you to wash my clothes?
Couldn't you have waited? Here, one dollar means eight rupees.
We don't have so much money to buy...
Where are you going?
Ashima?
Open the door, Ashima.
I'm sorry, Ashima.
It was my mistake.
Your intention was good but it was my mistake not to tell you. Please, open the door.
My Ashima. My Ashima, dear Ashima. Open the door, Ashima.
Open the door.
Please?
Hey, baba.
Crazy girl.
You won't smile? Huh?
No smile? No smile.
One, two... No smile. No smile.
I'm sorry.
Take one or three train, from here all the way to...
Fulton Street.
You get out of the station, ask anybody:
"Where's the Fulton fish market?"
Uh, and if I get lost?
Why are you scared? Will I let you get lost?
Uh...
What's happening? Hm?
Come.
Come close to me.
- Do you have a longer frock? - What's that?
I mean to here.
And hide those gorgeous legs?
Here we go, let's get you under the covers so you needn't worry.
Time those contractions.
Rana? Hey, Rana!
Everything's OK. I checked.
Eyes are black like jamuns.
Black like hair.
How are you? Everything was OK?
Being rescued was the first miracle of my life.
You are the second.
Mrs Ganguli? I'm Mr Wilcox.
You have a name for the baby?
One minute. My husband is coming.
- He wants the baby's name. - Yes, the name.
We are waiting for my wife's grandmother to choose.
Will she be here soon?
She is in India. She is more than 85 years old.
But there is no hurry. Some of my cousins were not named until they were six years old.
Until then they were called by their dak names.
- Dak names? - Pet names.
We all have two names - one pet name, dak name, one good name, bhalo name.
In this country, a baby can't be released from the hospital without a birth certificate
and a birth certificate requires a name.
How about... Baby Boy Ganguli?
Baby Boy?
Till the letter arrives. Afterward, we can change it?
Is that what we should do?
I wouldn't - endless red tape. Expensive, too.
Sleep on it.
Baby Boy Ganguli?
Gogol...
Gogolu?
What do you say?
We could call him Gogol.
Till the letter arrives. Later we could change it on the birth certificate.
We would not be here but for Gogol's blessings.
Hold still, hold still.
Don't move.
One, two, three.
Say "cheese".
Look, look. Gogol. Uncle!
Uncle, uncle, uncle.
- It's just come? - Yes.
- Here he is. - Oh, my, he's so sweet.
Look, look. Ashima's baby, Gogol.
I want to go home.
I don't want to bring up Gogol alone over here.
Think of Gogol's future.
This is the land of opportunity, Ashima.
He can become whatever he wants, study whatever he desires.
You know, options are limitless.
Don't you want to give him that?
Huh?
- Here you go. - Thanks.
You're welcome.
Come on.
Leave it, leave it. Leave it. Come, come.
Don't go so far that I cannot see you. He's too little.
Welcome to suburbia, Ashokda. You have a beautiful house. Congratulations.
Everything is from a yard sale.
Ashima does not like it but I say, "What is wrong with it?"
Even my chairman, who lives in a huge mansion,
wears a trouser bought for fifty cents.
That is America, Ashoke.
Hey, kids, catch it.
Gogol?
Where are you?
Hey, Googly.
Poor child.
He's probably feeling very left out because of his sister Sonia's naming ceremony.
- Is he going to be called Gogol in school? - No. We have decided on a good name.
Finally. What is it?
Nikhil.
The all encompassing one.
Of course, they will it turn it into Nick.
Gogol?
Hey, Gogol.
He's here.
Missing your sister's ceremony, huh?
I found him.
I don't like the baby.
- Sonia, eat this. - Now will be the grand finale.
Ashima, what will your baby girl's future be?
We will see her future now.
- She wants everything. - Ask her to pick up the pen.
Hey, Sonia, pick up the pen.
- A female Tagore. - Put the dollar in her hand.
Pick up something, Sonu.
American girl must be rich.
She's not picking anything.
So, how did you like your first day in big school?
- Great. - Oh.
And what is this?
"Due to your son's preference, he will be known as Gogol in school. "
"Mrs Lapidas, Principal. "
Hm.
And what about your parents' preference?
Hm?
In this country, the children decide.
He wants to keep Gogol and not Nikhil as his good name.
Fine. No big deal.
With a president named Jimmy, there's nothing we can do.
As long as our kid is happy.
So late?
Hello. Hello?
Hello, Ashokda?
Ashokda, can you hear me?
There's bad news, Ashokda.
What?
I cannot give this news to Didi.
Don't worry, I will.
He told you something you're not telling me.
Yesterday evening your father was playing patience on his bed.
He died of a heart attack.
Ah!
What? What?
Baba!
Calm, Ashima.
He didn't suffer much.
- Come on. - Look, baba. Gogol.
- Where? - G-o-g-o-I.
Very good. Very good.
Come on, we'll miss the plane. Come on, come on.
- Come. - I don't want to go.
I don't want to see them like that.
That won't do.
Think of your mother, think of your brother.
You have to be strong for all of them.
Let's go.
Not your ordinary guy, Nikolai Gogol.
Hey, Gogol, it's your namesake.
Today he is respected as one of Russia's most brilliant writers,
but in his own lifetime he was understood by no one, least of all himself.
One might say that he was an eccentric genius.
- Yo, Gargle, way to go. - Shut up.
Mr Hanson, Mr Epstein, I will see you both after class. Thank you. Out.
Come on. Out.
Thank you, gentlemen.
Now, Gogol was reputed to be a hypochondriac.
He was deeply paranoid, frustrated, friendless.
He never married and he fathered no children.
Towards the end of his life, he proceeded to commit slow suicide by starvation.
Eww!
Did you guys know about him when you named me?
That he was paranoid, suicidal, friendless, depressed?
You forgot to mention that he was also a genius.
How could you guys name me after someone so strange?
Don't talk to your father like that.
And don't call us "guys".
Sometimes when I listen to you both, I feel I have given birth to strangers.
Just because you're graduating does not mean you can behave like this, Gogol.
So I'm two inches away from her.
Her luscious lips part.
Just as I'm about to kiss her,
she looks at me and she says:
"What's your name?"
"Gogol Ganguli. "
- End of Seduction 101. - Plain Jane loves your name.
- "Gogol, Gogol, I love you. " - "Gogol!"
Don't Bogart thatjoint.
You know, of all the freaking Russian writers in the universe...
why did they have to choose the weirdest?
What the hell's wrong with Leo or Anton?
Shit! I just want to sit 'em down and be like:
"Man, Gogol is your favourite author, not mine. "
- Shit! - What?
I got that thing. Oh, shit.
- Hey, where you going? - See ya!
Goodbye, Air India.
Whoo-hoo!
- I'm sorry. - They have been here for two hours already.
Come.
- This is our son, Gogol. - Sorry, I'm late.
Hey, Gogol. Mr and Mrs Mazumdar, they've have just moved in to New York from London.
Wow. That's far.
- Hey, Gogol. - Hey, Mira Masi.
I'll show you something.
And this is our daughter, Moushumi.
- Both the same age also. - Oh.
- They'll have a lot in common. - I'm sure.
Hi.
Hello.
- What are you reading? - Bonjour Tristesse.
In French.
Wanna go watch some TV?
Tch! I detest American television.
Gogol, baba. Come and sit next to your Mira Masi.
Come. Come.
Why are your eyes so red?
- Someone's envy has definitely got to you. - I'm fine.
Ashima, get me some chillies.
Nikhi, let me see. Give, quickly.
Oh, Mira Masi. I promise you there are no evil eyes in the United States of America.
That is what you think.
You be careful where you're going. What is the name?
Yale.
There will be plenty of girls in this Yale place who will want to trap you.
Have as much fun as you want but...
...marry a Bengali.
# I admit it
# What's to say?
# Yeah
# I'll relive it
# Without pain
Gogol!
Hey, baba.
- How are you feeling now? - I'm feeling a lot better. Thank you.
Good.
Listen.
I have never given you any presents apart from what your mother buys,
but for your graduation, I have something special.
# Oh, try and mimic
# What's insane
Thanks, baba.
I ordered this just for you from the bookstore. Took four months to arrive.
# I got a back-street lover on the passenger street
# I got my hand in my pocket, so determined, discreet
# I pray
# Once upon a time
# I can control myself
# Ooh, once upon a time...
I hope you like it.
Very nice.
Thanks, baba.
Thanks again.
You know, I feel a special kinship with Gogol. More than with any other writer.
- Do you know why? - Yes.
Gogol's your favourite author. I know, baba.
No, apart from that.
He spent most of his adult life outside his homeland.
- Like me. - Right.
But...
there...
there is another reason.
Hello?
Hm?
What's the other reason?
No other reason.
OK, good night.
Good night, baba.
We all came out of Gogol's Overcoat.
One day you will understand.
Your attention, please.
Indian Airlines announces the departure of their flight IC408 to Calcutta.
On behalf of Indian Airlines and Captain Dasgupta,
we hope you enjoy your flight.
Flight IC408.
Ah! They've come.
Take out the luggage.
- Gogol. - Hi, Dadima.
That's all. And for our Rini...
Here. Earphones.
Quickly, bring two pairs of chappals from Bata.
Get them only from Bata.
Tea for you.
It's an umbrella.
Open it, see.
Ah!
Whole New York in Calcutta.
- What's wrong with you? - I want to go home.
Oh-ho!
I have something that'll cheer you up.
Here. The planner says that there are only 89 days left to go.
What is wrong with you? Are you hot? Have some ancient air conditioning.
Go away!
Give me one kilo of tomatoes. Give me the good ones.
See, that one there is not good.
You are going out?
- Jogging. - Jogging?
- Running, on the street. I'm in training. - Training?
Yep.
Don't worry, Dadima. I'm not gonna go far.
Oh, my God. Chotu. Chotu.
Coming.
Go with him. He's on the road. Stay close to him.
I know, I know. I'm going.
Oh, good morning. Gogol!
Gogol, babu! Move, move. Gogol!
Gogol, babu! I'm a fat man.
Stop. Stop.
Stop.
Your grandmother told me to go with you.
Babu follow Chotu. No... Chotu follow Babu.
- They sent you to follow me? - Yes.
My heart's beating fast.
Heart?
- Chotu die. - Don't die. Want to go back?
There is something I always wanted to ask you but never had the courage.
All those years ago, why did you say yes to me?
You were the best of the lot.
Huh?
Better than the widower with four children,
and the cartoonist with one arm.
I also liked your shoes.
Oh, OK, OK.
You want me to say, "I love you"?
Like the Americans?
Yes.
Stop sulking. You look really great in that outfit. It suits you.
Shut up.
Why don't you get in, my American sahib? Sonia can sit on my lap.
No. Because being pulled by another human being is feudal,
and I don't want to be part of something like that because...
Ma, stop. It's embarrassing me.
Who can guess where we're going tomorrow?
- Another relative's house? - No.
- The Botanical Gardens for the 100th time. - To Agra. To see the Taj Mahal.
- Are you serious? You're not kidding? - Really?
- That's awesome, Ma. - Oh, my God!
It's a wonder of the world.
- We should have taken a plane. - Everything will be fine.
What will be fine?
Baba, how far?
It's right here.
Let's go, let's go.
I've always wanted to come here with you.
Just imagine how much Shah Jahan must have loved Mumtaz to make this for her.
Other husbands also love their wives, Ashima.
Only we cannot afford to build Taj Mahal.
Guess what.
- I think I'm gonna major in architecture. - What about engineering?
Come on, baba. Architecture has everything. It's got engineering, drawing, aesthetics.
Our family Shah Jahan.
Look. "Gangrene. "
What the?
- Can you believe this? - I'll catch the racist punk who did that.
- Don't be upset. - Frigging welcome home.
Just some kids having fun.
So, I've been thinking a lot about my name.
"Gogol" is fine on my high school diploma
but can you imagine "Gogol" on a résumé or a credit card after that?
What are you trying to say?
I'd like to change my name back to my good name.
What is done is done. Now "Gogol" has become your good name.
It's too complicated now. You're too old.
And, anyway, you have only yourself to blame.
It's my fault because I was four years old?
That's right, Gogol.
Anything is possible in America.
Do as you wish.
An excellent choice, sir.
I'm home.
- Hi, Nick. - Hello.
Hi, Lydia. How're you doing?
- Good. Have you got it? - Yep.
Where's my girl? Where's my Master of Fine Arts?
- Congratulations. - Thank you, Daddy.
Thank you all so much for coming. This means so much to me.
Drink. Celebrate.
Beep beep. Excuse me. I'm sorry.
Cake.
- I still can't believe it's over. - Hey.
Hi.
- Nick... - Open it.
- Do you like it? - Yeah, it's beautiful.
Hello.
I want you to meet the young Indian architect who has so captured Maxine's heart.
This is Pam Burton, a dear college friend, and this is Nikhil Ganguli.
- How do you do? - Maxine, look who's here.
- It's very nice to meet you. - You as well.
Now, how old were you when you moved to America?
I was actually born in New York.
I once had a girlfriend who went to India.
Came back thin as a rail.
- I'm sure. - I was horribly envious of her.
I think your parents want you to marry a nice Indian girl.
I don't care what they want.
This is what I want.
Sally gave them to me before anybody else could check them out, huh?
Ah! Reading Chekhov.
What perks I get from my wife, the librarian.
- What are you, blind? - Today, huh?
Drive fast.
You have to learn to drive faster.
Don't talk to me. I will have an accident.
If you keep on driving like this, you will have an accident.
Everything's fine, Mom.
- Why are you calling me? - Hey, hon.
Because you're not at your apartment.
You are never at your apartment, Gogol.
In the middle of the night I have called and you are not there.
I am, Ma. I need my sleep. I turn off the phone.
- Gogol, are you there? - Yeah, yeah. I'm here. I'm here.
I want you to come home next Saturday.
Then you can come with us to the airport the next day.
Baba is going to teach in Ohio for six months. You remember?
I remember. But what's the big deal? He's only going to Cleveland.
- Sonia's not coming home. - Sonia lives in California, Gogol.
I can't come home that weekend.
I'm going on a vacation with my girlfriend. Her parents have a place in Oyster Bay.
Mom?
Mind if we go see my parents on the way to Oyster Bay?
- You mean I'd finally get to meet them? - Mm-hm.
I'd love to, baby.
Oh, that's too much.
I'm back.
You know, he's willing to go on vacation with someone else's parents,
but not to see his own.
Forget it, this is America. Soon as the kids turn 16, they're gone.
I lost the company of my parents when I first came to this country.
Now I feel I'm losing my family all over again.
Besides, what kind of a girl is called Max, huh?
Maybe it's a boy.
There are things you should know. No kissing, no holding hands.
My parents are not Lydia and Gerald. I've never seen them touch.
- A little depressing. - A little bit.
You really want to forget all this stuff.
What? Why're you getting truffles?
- They won't like them, will they? - No.
Come on, Nick, everyone loves truffles.
Ma, we're here.
Ma.
Hi.
Ma, this is Maxine. Max, this is my mother.
Hello, Ashima. It's so nice to finally meet you.
Hm.
- These are for you and Ashoke. - Oh.
There was no need.
Thank you. Please come in.
- Come. - Thank you.
Please sit.
I will get drinks.
- It's nice. This is where you grew up? - Yeah.
Nikhil's father is upstairs with the man from the alarm company.
- Why are we getting a security system? - It was your father's idea.
Now that I will be on my own.
You know, even in good areas like this, these days there are crimes.
Ashima, I've been admiring what you're wearing.
- Is this a kantha? - Oh, yes.
I grew up with fabrics. My mother curates textiles at the Met.
- The Met? - The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Remember? I took you there. It's the museum with all the steps and the Egyptian temple.
I remember. My father was also an artist.
That painting you're seeing there? That is his painting.
Ah, it's nice.
So it will be installed tomorrow, all right?
- I'll give you a receipt. - It's really lovely.
Thank you, Mr Robbins.
- Hey, baba. - Hey.
This is Maxine. Max, this is my father.
- Hello. - Hello, Ashoke.
- How are you? - Fine.
Fine.
This is the best Indian food I've ever tasted.
Nikhil's mother has been cooking for the past two days.
It's better than this boy here makes.
Oh...
I forgot the ice cream.
Nikhil, come with me to Briar's, will you?
- Sure. - I'll come with you.
Why don't you stay and keep Nikhil's mother company? We'll be back in no time. Yes?
OK.
I wanted to tell you something before I leave for my semester in Ohio.
It is about your name.
- My name? - Gogol.
There is a reason for it, you know.
I know. Gogol's your favourite author. I remember.
It is more than that.
It was...
1974, when I was a student in Calcutta.
Every year I would take the train to visit my grandfather in Jamshedpur.
I carried one book with me to read on the journey.
- Gogol? - Yes.
The Overcoat.
So on the train, late at night, a Mr Ghosh befriended me.
He kept trying to persuade me to leave India.
And I just wanted to get back to my book.
My grandfather always says that is what books are for -
to travel without moving an inch.
And that's when it happened.
There's no life here. Let's go.
No, wait. That man, he's alive. The book. He's moving.
I kept hearing Ghosh's voice in my head.
Pack a pillow and blanket. See the world. You will never regret it.
That is how I came to America and you got your name.
Come, Maxine will be waiting for you.
Baba, is that what you think of when you think of me?
Do I remind you of that night?
Not at all.
You remind me of everything that followed.
Every day since then has been a gift, Gogol.
- Samosas for the journey. - Thank you. Thank you so much.
- It was lovely to meet you. - Bye, Ma.
Same here.
Remember to check in on your mother now and again.
- OK, baba. Call to let us know that you've arrived safely.
- I will. - Drive safely, Gogol.
- What did your dad just call you? - I'll explain later.
I would never have guessed that your parents are so different.
# I don't need no 9-mil Glock
# These hands are deadly guns
# From smokin', drinkin', being a thug
# I sip Hynotyq from a coffee mug
# I keep a healthy state of mind
# I only drink and drive at night
- Ah! We're here. - This is beautiful.
- You like? - Yeah. It's perfect New England Victorian.
Thus spake my architect.
- We got truffles. - Hey, Gerald. Hey, Lydia.
- Hey! Hi. Hi! - Hi, Nick.
This is my absolute favourite place on earth. I can map my life here.
You know, I envy you this place.
My parents never felt the need to be so far away from things.
- Where did you guys go? - On the road.
In rented vans we would travel with Bengali families to see other Bengali families,
inevitably getting lost.
Dad's mulling over AAA maps on the side of the road. When it was time to eat,
we would pull over at some rest stop and pull out an Indian meal from a bunch of tiffins,
when all I really wanted was a McDonald's.
It was kind of fun, though, if you didn't know anything else.
Well, you're here now.
So Ms Maxine, MFA, what's it gonna be - the museum job or the book on Mantegna?
I don't wanna think about it right now.
I wanna be free.
He never called.
I'm sure they're fine.
It is you I am worried about. You know, being alone, for the first time.
No big deal.
As the children always say to me.
It is easy for them, Ashima.
They grew up here.
You will be alone too. How will you manage?
But I will see you every third weekend.
I wish you would change your mind and come with me.
Hm?
Leave it.
That was Ratliff?
I do have a number for a G Ratliff in Oyster Bay, but I'm afraid it's unlisted.
Happy birthday, Gogol.
Ah!
- Happy birthday, Nick. - Thank you.
Make a wish.
Thanks, you guys. Very nice.
- Hello? - Hello, Ashima.
I was just thinking of you.
OK, listen. That thing that the children gave...
Ashima, I am in Cleveland General Hospital.
Why? What happened?
I don't know. My stomach's been bothering me since morning.
I was invited by some Bengali students for dinner...
Then take an Alka-Seltzer.
I did. It didn't help.
I came to the emergency room because all the doctors' offices are closed today.
Who drove you there?
No one. I am here on my own.
Really, it's not so bad.
I wish I had come with you. I was also so selfish, only thinking about myself.
Ashima.
Don't worry. It's nothing.
OK. What does the doctor say?
I'm waiting to see him. There's a long line. Very long line.
And don't worry.
I am feeling better already.
- Huh? - All right.
And I'll call you when I get home.
OK.
This is Professor Ganguli. Kindly leave a message.
Yes.
G for green.
A for apple.
N for Nancy.
G for God. U for umbrella.
L for letter.
I for India.
I have already spelt my name five times.
I'm just gonna have to put you on hold, ma'am.
Sorry for the wait. To whom am I speaking?
Ashima Ganguli. Ashoke Ganguli's wife. Who I'm speaking to?
I'm sorry, ma'am, I'm the intern who first examined your husband.
I have been holding on for half an hour.
Is my husband still there or has he gone? He said he will phone me.
I'm very sorry, ma'am. We've been trying to reach you.
The patient, your husband, Ashoke Ganguli, passed away at 5:35pm.
Hello?
It is a mistake.
He was not there for an emergency. Only for stomachache.
Your husband had a massive heart attack. All attempts to revive him failed.
Is there anyone in the Cleveland area who can identify...
That's why the Blur Building's my favourite. - It's beautiful.
- Hi. - Hi.
- Jessie? - Come here, Jessie.
Nick, your mother called for you twice. Thanks, I'll give her a buzz in the morning.
Hello?
Nick, it's your sister this time.
Hello. Sonia?
I take 20 rounds every morning before going to work.
I'm sorry, baba.
# When I was young I thought that life was about muscle
# But it's really all about surviving and struggle
# On the block I learned life and death
# Sometimes it's hard to breathe so I fight for breath
# And where I'm from you don't know right from left
# Too many obstacles, so I watched my step
# Yeah, that's just the way I live
Baba?
# Cos I'm the chosen one The torch forever passed from old to young
# I've been on the ground for years This life's about pain, ain't no time for tears
# Yeah, man, I came from nothing
# I kept on hustling and now I'm something
# But the pain's...
Ma.
Gogol.
You didn't have to do this.
I wanted to.
Excuse me, have you seen Nick Ganguli?
Oh, he's over here. Somewhere.
So tragic about Ashoke. Him, going like that.
I'm so sorry.
- Panditji namaste, is bhabhi OK? - Yes.
- Hey. - How are you?
Good. Thanks for bringing my stuff.
Gogol.
Get some oil from the kitchen.
Excuse me.
The ceremony is about to begin. Do you want to sit?
Thank you.
So when are you coming back to the city?
I don't know.
They've given me a month. More if I want.
I miss you.
I know how hard this must be for you.
But you guys can't stay with your mother forever. You know that.
Listen,
I really, really, really, want to come to India with you to scatter the ashes.
It's a family thing.
I thought we were family, Nick.
You are certainly part of mine.
I have so many regrets, Max.
You're bound to.
Listen, why don't we still go away for New Year's, like we planned?
It might do you good to get away from all this.
I don't want to get away.
What do you want from me, Nick?
I'm trying to be here for you, but it's like I don't even know you any more.
Max, this is not about you.
Go carefully.
Maxine, we will all miss him, you know.
- Your name? - Gogol.
- Your father's name? - Ashoke.
- Your name? - Ashima.
- Your husband's name? - Ashoke.
Gogol, baba.
Maybe we should let bygones be bygones now.
What do you mean?
Make up with Maxine.
Ma, you never liked her, did you?
That is not the point, Gogol.
The point is that now you should move on with your life.
By the time I was your age, I had already celebrated my tenth wedding anniversary.
This is America, Ma. We'll have twins when we're 60.
Oh, Gogol, very funny.
Uh, do you remember Moushumi Mazumdar?
"I detest American television. "
Don't be so rude. You think your accents don't sound funny to other people?
Poor thing. Terrible, terrible tragedy.
She was supposed to have been married, but it was cancelled at the last minute.
The invitation cards were sent out, the hall was booked, even.
She's also in New York. Alone, doing her PhD.
I told her parents, "Don't worry. Gogol will call her. "
Hey, hey, Ma.
You don't have time for one cup of tea, Gogol?
Her parents came to baba's funeral. This is the least we can do.
OK, time out.
Let's say that I take her out to tea, OK? Then what? What are we gonna talk about?
- She doesn't even speak. - Only reads.
- Weird French stuff, Ma. - Bye, Ma. Later, Gogol.
See you later.
- This is her number. - Ma...
Call her if you want. Don't call her if you don't want.
OK, thank you.
Nikhil.
Yes.
As opposed to Gogol?
Yes.
- Excuse me. Single malt, please. - OK.
- I've never done this before. - What's that?
Gone out on a blind date engineered by my mom.
It's not a blind date exactly.
- No? - No, we sort of know each other in a way.
- Here you go. - I don't remember our ever talking, really.
Actually, neither do I.
Does your family still live in the same house I used to visit?
Yeah.
I remember the kitchen. It had these very blue cupboards.
Yeah, those are still there.
I was sorry to hear about your father.
How's your mother getting along?
She's all right. Sonia's been living with her, so that helps.
Why did you leave Paris? Wouldn't you rather study French literature in France?
I moved here for love.
Surely you know about my prenuptial disaster?
Not really.
Well, you ought to. Every other Bengali living on the East Coast does.
So, should we make our mothers happy and see each other again?
Maybe.
- Give me a call. - OK.
I know why he went to Cleveland.
He was teaching me how to live alone.
# Bonjour, monsieur
# Bonjour, madame
So of course my mother is appalled that I'm not cooking you Indian food.
You told her I was coming over?
She called today. What about you? Have you been giving your mother updates?
Sort of.
Oh, God, I need to add more liquid.
- You all right? - God!
Yeah. Could you please help me with my glasses? Take them off and...
# Comment allez-vous, monsieur?
# Bien, merci Et vous-même?
- God, did I really say that? - You sure as hell did.
No wonder you never talked to me.
I tried. You were the one who used to treat me like an untouchable.
Where'd you get so sexy?
- Paris. - Paris.
After years of convincing myself I'd never have a lover,
I began to have affairs.
How many?
- How many what? - Lovers.
You don't wanna know.
But you must understand. Without fire, this ceremony is invalid.
I'm sorry, sir. I cannot allow you to light a fire anywhere within the hotel premises.
"I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host, of golden daffodils"
You're next, Sonia. Cutie.
Mm-mm-mm?
Leave me alone. Leave me.
This marriage cannot happen.
101 from the Bannerjee family.
OK. That brings the total to 7,035.
- Not bad, Mr Ganguli. - I'd say we made a killing, Mrs Ganguli.
Hold it, hold it. Ms Mazumdar is the name.
We've already discussed this.
Yeah, but I thought, you know, both names?
Do you know how many letters that is?
Lmagine spelling that over the phone.
I've begun to publish under my name. No one would know me.
Come on, Nikhil.
What if somebody asked you to change your name?
I already have, remember?
Forget it. I was just being silly, Ms Mazumdar.
- It's our anniversary. - So we'll celebrate.
I wish we didn't have to go. Tonight of all nights.
- We promised. - No, no. We didn't promise. You promised.
- Bought you a gift. Have you bought mine? - I'm not buying it. I'm making it.
I'm designing a dream house for you, so you're just gonna have to wait.
So we're thinking "Prescott".
- Sorry. Prescott? Why? - It's a family name.
What does it mean? A name should mean something.
What does "Moushumi" mean?
A damp southwesterly breeze.
Stop worrying. If he doesn't like his name, he can always change it.
I'd never change my name. It's my grandmother's.
- Nikhil changed his. - Really?
What do you mean, he changed his name? Nikhil, it wasn't the name he was born with.
What name were you born with?
Gogol.
- As in The Overcoat?. - Yes.
Ah, I get it. Nikolai Gogol.
Exactly.
What in the world made your parents choose that name?
My father was a fan.
What I told you about my name was personal.
Nobody cares.
It's notjust some joke. And for you to bring it up in front of these people...
These people happen to be my friends.
You know, I had a life before I met you. You can't wish away my past.
You know I can't read French.
It's an offer to teach, at the Sorbonne.
Don't worry. I turned it down.
I'm going to be a good Bengali housewife and make samosas every Thursday from scratch.
It's so hard to know what to do sometimes.
I was looking at this Joseph Campbell book the other day,
and he says when you feel lost,
you should close your eyes and think of when you were most happy.
Not thrilled.
Just deeply happy.
It's called "following your bliss".
You wanna try it?
Well?
Ashima, are you all right?
I've been thinking of leaving.
Is that very selfish of me?
You know, I thought now that the children are both well settled.
Un jour, j'espère que tu tomberas sur ce livre,
et que tu te souviendras de moi.
Ton Pierre.
You don't know how happy I am that both my children have found their life partners.
You don't mind that Ben's not Indian?
Times have changed.
No, I don't mind. He's a very good boy, you know.
And he makes Sonia very happy.
She's following her bliss.
You've been reading Joseph Campbell.
Ah, c'est toi.
Je cuisine des samosas avec ma belle-mère.
Et toi?
A tout à I'heure. Bisous.
- Can't believe my sister's getting married. - You better believe it, Goggles.
I have something to say.
Gogol, I did not want to tell you on the phone.
I have decided to sell the house.
I am going to do what your father and I had always planned.
Six months in India and six months here, with all of you.
Then I can go and start my singing again in Calcutta.
That is if any guru wants a 45-year-old student.
Of course he will.
I want to be free.
- Like your name. - What do you mean?
"Ashima" means "without borders, limitless".
- Mo. - No Mo. Your ma.
Hey, Ma, what's up?
- Gogol, there's a buyer for the house. - Are they meeting your price?
- Yes. - Then do it, Ma.
I have told them they will have to wait until after Christmas.
- Both of you are coming? - Of course.
It will be the last party at Pemberton Road.
I know.
I don't see it.
- So, this year... - Mm-hm?
...they're renting a house in the Pyrenees for the summer,
and I told them we mightjoin them.
Astrid and Donald for an entire summer? Can't.
But the Pyrenees are so beautiful. Pierre says it's possibly...
Who's Pierre?
Are you having an affair?
Are you?
Who is he?
Someone I've known a long time.
Why?
I saw myself becoming my mother. I saw myself stuck.
Maybe it's not enough that we're both Bengali.
That's not why I love you.
So, when are you giving us the good news?
Just because your mother's going, don't forget us.
Yes. You must come over. You should not feel shy.
We're your family also and we're still here. - Thanks.
I am never gonna remember all these names.
It's all right. You don't have to. Just call everyone "auntie", you'll be fine.
Where's Moushumi?
Ashima, morals, morals.
You are not far wrong if you think...
And considering our evolutionary stage...
About morals we care a hang...
We all came out of Gogol's Overcoat.
One day you will understand.
- Hey, Googly. - Hey, Ma.
And baba?
Everything is OK?
Between Moushumi and you, hm?
Ma, Moushumi found someone else.
Some... some old boyfriend. A French guy named Pierre.
For once somebody else's name bothered me more than my own.
It is all my fault.
- I'm sorry, Gogol. - Ma...
Ma, it has nothing to do with you.
We're different people. We wanted different things.
I will not go back to India now.
I cannot go.
You have to go.
Listen to me.
You know, I know that I'm supposed to be devastated everybody's gone, but...
I know this is gonna sound crazy, but for the first time in my life, I actually feel free.
Look.
Look what I found.
It's baba's graduation gift from high school.
See.
For Gogol Ganguli.
The man who gave you his name from the man who gave you your name.
There are no accidents, Gogol.
Baba made you find it.
He is with us.
Don't go so far that I cannot see you. He's too little.
Jump. Jump.
Are you listening?
Oh, baba, the camera. It is in the car.
All this way and no picture.
Huh?
What should we do?
We just have to remember it, then. Huh?
Will you remember this day, Gogol?
How long do I have to remember it?
Remember it always.
Remember that you and I made the journey,
and we went together to a place where there was nowhere left to go.
For 25 years, I missed my life in India.
And now I will miss my life here,
and all of you who became my family.
I will miss living with my daughter,
and the surprising friendship we've found.
I will miss phoning my son at all times of day or night.
And I will miss this country,
in which I had grown to know and love my husband.
And though his ashes are scattered in the Ganges,
it is here in this house, in this town,
amongst all of you,
that he will continue to dwell in my heart.
Hear, hear.
- Long live Ashima. - Cheers.
- Cheers.
Cheers.
Thank you.
"After several minutes, blushing all over, he began reassuring them,
quite simple-heartedly, that it was not a new overcoat at all. "
"That it was just so. That it was an old overcoat. "
"Finally, one of the clerks, even some sort of assistant to the chief clerk, said:
'So be it. I'll throw a party instead of... "'
Pack a pillow and blanket. Go, see the world.
You will never regret it, Gogol.
# How many roads have I wondered?
# None and each my own
# Behind me the bridges have crumbled
# No question of return
# Nowhere to go but the horizon
# Where, then, will I call my home?
# Nowhere to go but the horizon
# Where, then, will I call my home?
# How many roads have I wondered?
# None and each my own
# Behind me the bridges have crumbled
# Where, then, will I call my home?
# Where, then
# Will I call
# My home?
# Someday
# The wind will change and you will see me
# Clearly
# One day
# But that's a million somedays from today
# Lately
# The sunshine makes a different shape
# Around me
# Lately
# My music has a different sound
# To show me
# Oh, lately
# I ask questions of the world
# But no one's listening
# Falling, falling
# Falling
# Or am I flying?
# Flying, flying
# Flying
# Or am I falling?
# Falling, falling
# Falling
# Or am I flying?