Remember Kabir? The “stable” one from Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara - calm, charming, and seemingly perfect. But rewatch the film, and you’ll notice something unsettling: Kabir can’t seem to say what he actually feels. He proposes to Natasha “just like that,” avoids tough conversations, and keeps everyone happy while slowly drowning inside.
Also, he is quite mean to his Fiancé! Think about it: when Natasha sees Laila in his room and suspects an affair, Kabir gets defensive & judges her on the contrary, instead of offering reassurance. When she surprises him on his bachelor trip, simply wanting to spend time with her fiancé, he assumes she’s there to spy on him and makes her feel guilty for caring. He can’t even recognize love when it’s standing right in front of him.
Before we label him a walking red flag, let’s pause. What if Kabir isn’t the problem? What if he’s simply another casualty of a system that teaches boys to smile, stay quiet, and never, ever show their feelings?
The Boy Who Learned to Hide
From childhood, most men are taught a simple equation: emotions = weakness. Cry, and you’re told to “man up.” Express fear, and you’re called soft. Want to talk about feelings? That’s “girly talk.” Psychologists call this normative alexithymia- a fancy term for society systematically teaching men to disconnect from their emotions (Levant et al., 2009). Kabir’s inability to tell Natasha he’s not ready for marriage isn’t selfishness, it’s emotional paralysis. He literally doesn’t have the language or permission to express vulnerability. His conflict avoidance? It’s a survival mechanism learned early: keep the peace, avoid confrontation, and maybe everyone will still love you. This creates what researchers call an anxious-avoidant attachment style- desperately wanting connection while simultaneously fearing the vulnerability it requires (Mikulincer & Shaver, 2016). Sound familiar?
The Script’s Real Problem
Here’s where things get interesting. The film frames Natasha’s desire to spend time with her fiancé as “controlling behavior.” But hold on, wanting to be close to someone you’re about to marry is called being in love, not being a “chudail.” The script does what mainstream cinema often does: it pathologizes women’s emotional needs while celebrating men’s emotional unavailability. Natasha expresses her feelings clearly and directly- healthy relationship behavior- but she’s painted as the problem. Meanwhile, Kabir’s stonewalling and avoidance are seen as admirable restraint. And don’t get us started on Laila. She exists purely as a catalyst for male transformation; no backstory, no complexity, just an object of desire to help our hero “find himself.” The film gives us yet another male perspective where women are either demanding shrews or mysterious muses. Never just… people.
The Psychology Behind the Silence
Kabir’s people-pleasing isn’t kindness, it’s fear. Fear of disappointing others, fear of conflict, fear of being abandoned if he shows his true self. This pattern often develops in childhood when emotional expression is met with rejection or discomfort (Bowlby, 1988). The result? A man who says yes to a wedding he doesn’t want, hides his adventures from his partner, and swallows his truth until it becomes toxic. He’s not being considerate, he’s being self-protective. And honestly? Given how society treats men who express emotions, can we blame him? Research shows that men who suppress emotions don’t just hurt their partners, they hurt themselves. They experience higher rates of depression, anxiety, and relationship dissatisfaction (O’Neil, 2008). Kabir’s calm exterior masks internal chaos, and that’s not sustainable for anyone.
Breaking the Cycle
The good news? These patterns can change. Understanding Kabir’s behavior through a psychological lens moves us from judgment to compassion, and compassion is where healing begins.
- Emotional literacy is the first step. Many men need to literally learn the vocabulary of feelings, moving beyond “fine,” “good,” and “stressed” to actually identifying what’s happening inside (Levant et al., 2009).
- Challenging societal norms comes next. When we stop praising emotional suppression as “strength” and start valuing authentic expression, men like Kabir can begin to heal.
- Safe spaces for vulnerability are crucial. Men need environments where they can practice emotional expression without fear of judgment or rejection (Brown, 2012).
The Real Red Flag The real red flag isn’t Kabir, it’s a society that creates Kabirs. It’s a culture that teaches boys to disconnect from their inner world and then wonders why they struggle with intimacy as adults. Both men and women deserve better. Women deserve partners who can show up emotionally, and men deserve the freedom to be fully human, feelings and all. When we understand that emotional avoidance often stems from fear rather than indifference, we can respond with empathy instead of frustration.
Kabir’s story reminds us that behind every emotionally unavailable person is usually a scared child who learned that feelings weren’t safe. This doesn’t excuse harmful behavior, but it does explain it, and explanation is the first step toward change. The next time you encounter a “Kabir”- whether in films, relationships, or the mirror - remember: they’re not the villain. They’re just another person trying to navigate a world that taught them to hide their hearts. And maybe, with enough understanding and support, they can learn to let those hearts show. After all, the bravest thing anyone can do is feel their feelings and share them anyway. That’s not weakness, that’s revolutionary.
Want to Learn More?
Normative Alexithymia: Levant, R. F., et al. (2009). Gender differences in alexithymia. Psychology of Men & Masculinity, 10(3), 190-203. Attachment Patterns: Mikulincer, M., & Shaver, P. R. (2016). Attachment in Adulthood: Structure, Dynamics, and Change. Guilford Press. Men’s Emotional Restrictiveness: O’Neil, J. M. (2008). Summarizing 25 years of research on men’s gender role conflict. The Counseling Psychologist, 36(3), 358-445. Vulnerability and Connection: Brown, B. (2012). Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead. Gotham Books.