The best thing about Teri Meri Kahaani is that it tries to be different. Unlike the Bolly romances of today that start on a New York college campus, travel through the mustard fields of Punjab and end up in a big, fat Indian wedding, the star-crossed lovers here hop, skip and jump from the 1960s to the present and go further back to 1910. Before you roll your eyes and go “Oh, reincarnation!”, director Kunal Kohli makes it a point to tell you that this is a tale of unrequited passion that straddles three different eras, with the lovers surviving the cycle of life and death to meet in a different time and space.

Which brings us to the worst thing about Teri Meri Kahaani — the fact that it tries to be different. For Kohli is so taken up by this time-travel technique that he sacrifices soul, substance and storytelling. None of the three love stories is strong enough to tug at the tear ducts and the central conflict is too weak to make you root for the lovers.

In fact, the Hum Tum maker, who had been gloating about his narrative technique in pre-release interviews, can’t even take credit for it. If the Bhatts raid the Korean rack in the DVD library for their films (and sequels), Kohli’s clear inspiration for TMK lies in the Taiwanese shelf: the 2005 film Three Times that explored love and heartbreak across 1911, 1966 and 2005.

Much like Three Times, TMK starts off with the segment set in the ’60s. Rukhsar (Priyanka 1), a Lucknow girl who ran away from home with stars in her eyes and is now a Raj Khosla heroine, meets Govind (Shahid 1), a struggling musician in Raj Kapoor pants and Charlie Chaplin walk, trying to make it big in Bombay. They come from two different worlds, but that doesn’t stop them from striking up a friendship . Studio floor to glitzy parties, they meet and re-meet, gradually falling in love. However, the romance hits a roadblock in the form of her best friend and his neighbour Maahi (Prachi Desai).

Though a little abrupt, TMK is its most fun and fresh in this segment. The romance is cute, the drama delightfully over-the-top. It’s the age of tightly draped saris, gravity-defying buoffants, Elvis-inspired ducktails and drainpipe pants. Kohli and his team have a blast recreating the Bombay of the 1960s. Quaint trams to steam engines, vintage cars to pebbled sidewalks, Marine Drive to Victoria Terminus and Metro Cinema to Maratha Mandir.

Just as one gets comfy in the past, Kohli rudely yanks you back to the present. To Stratford-upon-Avon (yes, Shakespeare!) in 2012 where Krish (Shahid 2) bumps into Radha (Priyanka 2). The two are varsity students with ‘dude’, ‘yo!’ and ‘cool’ peppering their vocab. Their lives are summed up by Facebook status messages and BBM updates. In this age of I, I and I, they flit between (I)pod and (I)pad. The two spend a fun evening together, exchange SMSes for the next 10 days and just as they start getting serious, an ex-girlfriend pops up to spoil the party.

Easily the weakest link in the film, this segment looks straight out of a Karan Johar yuppie NRI romance, with zero chemistry between the leads. By the time story 2 gets over, you realise that the film isn’t going anywhere. But then there is a third romance to trudge through.

And that happens in the pre-Independence India of 1910. Shaayari-spouting Casanova Javed (Shahid 3) sets his eyes on freedom fighter Aradhana (Priyanka 3) and his life takes on a whole new meaning. He sings paeans to her beauty, she blushes. The two fall in love. He takes on a British general and courts jail, only to be released three months later to the news that she has been married off to another. Though brimming with potential, this is the segment that makes you go zzzzzz.

In fact, with the same conflict playing out in three different time periods, Teri Meri Kahaani seems frightfully long and painfully slow, even though it ends at two hours on the dot. Editor Amitabh Shukla needed to be a lot stricter with his scissors, especially for the third love story. Much like the stories, even the common denouement is flat and flimsy. Sajid-Wajid’s songs are one too many, though the Shankar Jaikishen-inspired Uff stands out for its melody and magic.

Shahid and Priyanka hog screen time, three times over. While she shines as the screen icon of the ’60s, he stands out as the poetry-loving playboy of 1910. Though there is none of the searing chemistry of Kaminey, the two do manage to conjure up the playful camaraderie of the Bru ads.

But by the time the film comes to the third love story, you want to see no more of them. And definitely no more of Teri Meri Kahaani.