Once, a very long time ago, there was a movie called Dushman, which starred Rajesh Khanna as a boorish truck driver who runs over a pedestrian. Said pedestrian was the sole breadwinner of his incredibly poor family, which includes Meena Kumari in a vile temper (understandable because of the whole widowed by drunk driver thing). Khanna goes to court and pisses off the judge who then sentences him to a punishment most unusual: instead of jail time or possibly death, Khanna will have to stand in for the man he killed and take over his responsibilities. “Oh noes!” says Khanna. “I’d rather be with the convicts than take this bullshit.” But the judge isn’t just any old judge – he’s Rehman and he’s badass. So Khanna is packed off to the village. Much melodrama and overacting ensues. My mother liked it very much. You can read about it in spoileriffic detail here.
Many years later, there was another movie. This one was about a frazzled young man called Aamir Khan who abruptly inherits three bratty but inherently lovable children (including cute little Kunal Khemu) and makes a grand mess of it until a bubbly young lady called Juhi Chawla cons her way into his house and teaches him the power of love or something like that. It was called Hum Hain Rahi Pyaar Ke and my cousin and I liked it very much although, I suspect, for slightly different reasons.
And long before all of this, there was this movie called Mary Poppins that won Julie Andrews an Oscar for Best Actress and Dick van Dyke the wrath of Cockneys everywhere for his slanderous accent. It was about this good fairy type person who steamrollers her way into a frayed household and settles things to rights with a lot of delightful special effects (sitting on ceilings! jumping into sidewalk drawings! saving cartoon foxes!) and singing (on London rooftops and to stuffed robins). Everyone loves this movie. I think it’s the law. If you say different the police might come to your house.
Stir all of the above together, press firmly to make it all fit, take it out into the sunlight and then beat the holy motherfucking crap out of it until it weakly cries for mercy. Top with some giant Ameeeeesha (sorry, how many e’s was that supposed to be again?) melons and serve cold. Voila!