Spoilers ahead.

Bollywood’s roster of adult films is a barren wasteland, dotted by the occasional Tusshar Kapoor/Milap Zaveri release. Yet, there may be hope for the genre as long as trailblazing production house YRF keeps churning out experimental masterpieces. For well before there were Kyaa Kool Hain Hum, Masti, and Ragini MMS, there was Mohabbatein. As on several other occasions, YRF embraced the role of innovator and at the turn of the millennium brought to Bollywood what is till date the industry’s only sex-ed film. Unlike Bollywood’s other attempts at adult cinema, Mohabbatein seeks to educate—not titillate—as moustachioed maestro Aditya Chopra examines attitudes towards male masturbation, specially amongst adolescents. To avoid offending conservative sensibilities, this sociological examination is cleverly hidden within a family-friendly romantic drama tale and presented in allegorical terms.

Mohabbatein features an ensemble cast, led by Amitabh Bachchan and DDLJ background actor Shah Rukh Khan, with Aishwarya Rai as a guest star. Although the cast also includes celebrated thespians Uday Chopra, Jugal Hansraj, and Shamita Shetty, a complete listing is omitted here for the sake of brevity. Bachchan plays Narayan Shankar, headmaster of the prestigious Gurukul boys’ college. Shankar is a stickler for rules, and imposes upon his students the need for tradition, prestige, and discipline. His rules extend to a blanket ban on romantic relationships, which forms the crux of the film’s conflict. SRK plays Raj Aryan, a music teacher and disgraced Gurukul alumnus who has returned to the institute under anonymity, with the single goal of melting Shankar’s icy heart and impressing upon him the power of love. Finally, Aishwarya Rai plays the deceased Megha, Shankar’s late daughter and the love interest of Raj Aryan.

In a figurative sense, Gurukul—with its forced confinement, all-male student body, and rigid rules—is a portrayal of restrictive societies that enforce adolescent sexual repression through gender segregation and harsh oversight. Narayan Shankar, as headmaster, is the enforcer of said oversight and abides by his oppressive regulations to set an example. Gurukul’s official motto—‘Parampara Prathishta Anushasan’—may be shortened to ‘PP Anushasan’, the word ‘PP’ being slang for a man’s meat pole of love and ‘Anushasan’ meaning discipline or regulation. Thus through its motto, the institution reveals its intention to exercise total control over its students’ genitalia.

Metaphorically, Narayan Shankar’s rejection of all things romantic/sexual, and his stubborn opposition to any form of change—stated by him multiple times throughout the film—is an allusion to his opposition to puberty and the sexual changes it brings along with it. His choice of garments throughout the film—dull black trousers coupled with matching black sherwanis—prevents viewers from getting a view of his lush curves and adds to his thoroughly sexless demeanour. Additionally, Shankar takes pride in his habit of staring right at the sun for several minutes every morning, which is a clever allusion to the popular myth about masturbation causing damage to eyesight—a lifetime of total abstinence from masturbation has prevented Shankar’s eyes from taking any damage, and therefore he can stare full-bore into the sun for as long as he pleases. Given all this, it is unknown how he fathered a daughter in his state of permanent prepubescence, so it may be deduced that he somehow reproduced asexually. In sum, Shankar is a man struggling to indefinitely delay his own sexual maturity, and thereby desperately clinging on to a simple, childlike innocence of all sexual matters.

Raj Aryan exists as the foil to Narayan Shankar, having arrived at Gurukul with the singular purpose of altering Shankar’s stunted outlook towards sexual maturity. In an allegorical sense, he portrays the biological agents and changes that act as messengers of puberty and sexual maturity, such as gonadotropin-releasing hormones and testosterone. Visually, his urbane, well-dressed appearance, along with his suave and cultured manner, stands in contrast to the dull cluelessness of Narayan Shankar and his wards, and is indicative of his sexual confidence and maturity.

Furthermore, his choice of musical instrument—the violin—is hardly coincidental. A violin requires precise, well-timed stroke-like movements to be made using a long, cylindrical piece of wood. The sight of Raj Aryan lounging comfortably in a chair and playing the violin with long, languid strokes, whilst wearing an expression of both contentment and pleasurable exertion, is certainly suggestive without appearing crass. The fact that his lover Megha is deceased does not decrease Raj Aryan’s passion in the slightest, as she makes an appearance in his imagination every time he leans back, closes his eyes, and handles his violin. Through such a combination of clever visual double entendres, the film conveys Raj Aryan’s use of masturbation and masturbatory fantasies as a healthy outlet for sexual expression and release.

To Gurukul’s ignorant masses, Raj Aryan is nothing short of a revelation. Like a masturbatory Pied Piper, he draws the ignorant, curious, and hypnotized students to his lessons, where he impresses upon them the need to break free of Gurukul’s restrictive confinements and open their hearts and prostate glands to the power of love. In a metaphorical sense, he encourages the students to accept the changes coursing through their bodies, and let puberty begin to run its course.

To best educate Gurukul’s students, Raj Aryan organises a secret dance ball, inviting over students from a neighbouring women’s college. Considering the allegorical nature of storytelling in Mohabbatein, the college and its students are likely imaginary, and the secret dance ball is actually an educational musical lesson on some of the more practical and logistical aspects of masturbation. YRF films have always been renowned for making their song-and-dance routines an integral part of the story, and Mohabbatein is no exception to this tradition of artistic excellence. As Gurukul’s students shuffle into the dance ball, Raj Aryan takes the centre stage and croons, ‘Aankhein khuli ho ya ho band/Deedar unka hota hai/Kaise kahoon main o yaara ye/Pyaar kaise hota hai’, with the lyrics making it clear that while there are many paths to self-pleasure, the path one takes does not matter so long as the destination is the same. With sufficient practice, a master of the art may hone his skills to the point where imagination is all that is required. Meanwhile, the less-skilled are free to keep their eyes open and rely on whatever visual aids they may prefer. Bearing in mind the wide variety of means and techniques employed, it is not for one man to tell another how best to beat his meat.

This educational demonstration, however, is cut short upon the surprise appearance of Narayan Shankar, who discovers Raj Aryan's attempt to arouse Gurukul’s pupils to rebellion against his rules. Shankar uses his authority to turn Raj Aryan’s movement temporarily flaccid, but a defiant Raj Aryan takes up Shankar’s opposition as a challenge, and vows to bring about love in every heart, a cramp in every right hand, and a scraggly hair sprouting from every smooth chin. Raj Aryan begins his campaign by asking Gurukul’s pupils to each write a love letter upon orange maple leaves. The orange maple leaf is a common visual theme throughout the movie, and for good reason—a maple leaf with its five lobes bears an uncanny resemblance to an outstretched palm with its five fingers, coloured an inflamed red perhaps due to excessive use. Thus, the act of writing a love letter upon an orange maple leaf is a clever visual metaphor for the students actually expressing gratitude and affection towards their own hands for the newly-discovered joys their hands have provided them with.

However, the ever-vigilant Narayan Shankar eventually catches onto Raj Aryan’s actions, and realizes that his fearsome gaze is no longer capable of wilting students’ defiant boners. Faced with this prospect, a desperate Shankar begins expelling students, hoping to discourage their peers and Raj Aryan, and therefore stave off the advent of puberty and sexual maturity amongst his wards. This leads to the film’s climax, wherein a gratuitously dripping-wet Raj Aryan meets Shankar, and defiantly tells him that whilst he may have won the battle, he has lost the war, for despite all his authority, Shankar will be forever left alone, because he lacks the powers of imagination and fantasizing that Raj Aryan possesses. Raj Aryan then reveals to Shankar that despite the death of Megha (Shankar’s daughter, it may be remembered), he still fantasizes about her with perfect clarity. However, as previously mentioned, Shankar had likely reproduced asexually to sire Megha, and asexual reproduction leads to genetically-identical offspring. A horrified Shankar realizes that therefore, by masturbating to Megha—his clone—Raj Aryan has been indirectly masturbating to Shankar himself for the past several years. Left shaken by this discovery of the transitive properties of masturbation, a broken Shankar is unable to recover from his shock and resigns as headmaster of Gurukul, leaving Raj Aryan to take the helm and finally bring about his purpose to a glorious conclusion.

Over two decades after release, Mohabbatein stands alone in Indian cinema. Few films have ever attempted such deftly-layered storytelling in treatment of such delicate subject matter. Indeed, if the bar were ever raised, it was only by YRF’s own other creations in subsequent years. No other films, however, have ever had the courage and wit to portray sex-ed as Mohabbatein so well did, and if the subject shall ever make an appearance in the educational curriculum, there can be no doubt that Mohabbatein shall be required viewing for all students, educators, and educational policymakers.

Edit: You don't have to say the movie's name. Just explain the plot badly and people will try to guess