Plodding on for what seems like eternity, this is an earnest but exhausting film.

Extreme love for the progeny produces corruption in several societies. It produces some terribly inspired entertainment in India. Few grudge the latter as much, I suppose. They don’t have to sit through it, if they don’t wish to. I didn’t have a choice.

This one is strictly for old-timers who could get a high seeing Dharmendra, Vinod Khanna and Rishi Kapoor in the same frame even if it is for just a few minutes. The rest would be happier watching Shah Rukh’s antics in 3-D.

Hema Malini chooses to direct similar emotionally-charged scenes on loop, this time in Turkey. The cinematography here is breathtaking but unfortunately not enough to keep you hooked.

On the whole, Tell Me O Kkhuda does not have the merits to make any mark at the box-office.

On the whole, TELL ME O KKHUDA has an erratic script, which works in bits and spurts. That, honestly, isn’t enough!

The immature way in which Hema Malini deals with this complex subject is what is absolutely shocking. It’s a joke. And a terrible one at that. Also, there is no flow to the story and every attempt to find her real father turns into something of a farce

By the end of it, you neither remember the music [Pritam], the camerawork, the editing or for that matter, the reason why you wanted to watch the film in the first place.