Love is the loadstar of all romantic hearts, the noblest, the most sublime of all human sentiments. That is probably why the entire world loves a lover. But when the setting is a charming, old-world haven of a princely Lucknow with its abundance of pleasures and 'Nawabs', all taking their pleasure in the pursuit of arts, literature on pleasure, love becomes hallowed in an added form of grandeur. It becomes love divine. Such is the love we present in our gorgeously framed 'Mere Mehboob', a love so unique that Anwar and Husna meet but once, just once brush their fingers in a delicate, caressing touch and the sparks of cupid courses into them, setting their young hearts on fire. Anwar does not even see the face of his enchantress at the first meeting, but Husna has the advantage of having seen Anwar. The song he calls 'Mere Mehboob' pleads of his beloved that she should once disclose herself to him. Fate plays with them together and brings them together in Lucknow, where their identities are thrown open in a blinding revelation. But Anwar is hardly on the same social ladder as Husna and must therefore surrender her lover. Hence, love begins to play its own game.
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