The art of picking your woman in your arms

You know, I was dying to do some armchair activism today. I was looking forward to write a post titled – Dear India, what the fuck? – and scream my lungs out about the way our priorities are royally misplaced. How we don’t care about rapes and farmer suicides and discuss AIB as if it is the latest discovered deadly virus. How we don’t bother about the bovine Sakshi Maharaj distributing his pearls of unbelievable wisdom but are ok with attack on an activist’s car because she circulated pictures of rapists. But then I thought, what is the point? We should all acknowledge the fact that we have been self-centred chu***as since hundreds of years and move on to other important topics.

Like the art of picking your woman in your arms.

Bollywood has always been an inspiration to the society. You can actually trace back all the crimes to Bollywood. If you go to a jail and do a heart-to-heart with all the inmates, 99% chances are that 99% of them will cry over how they saw a Bollywood movie and lost control of their senses. So, it is only understandable that we can find the roots of how we romance in Bollywood because that too is a crime in this country.

I was exposed to Bollywood as a kid. I think it was accidental that the first scene I saw of a movie was a man strangulating a woman with a wire. I could not sleep the whole night. The second scene that I accidentally saw was of robbers looting a village. It took mom a while to pacify me. For the longest of times, I imagined Bollywood movies to be a dreadful and nasty planet where people hurt each other for fun. Much like Earth.

How wrong I was.

Because then I discovered its romantic side – couples smiling at each other and singing songs while heavens play the orchestra, couples changing their clothes five times in a song as if they had a whole day dedicated to this activity of changing and singing, couples kissing behind gigantic flowers and making the flowers shudder. It was a new world. Blissful and sensuous. But then something was always disturbing me, slowly pushing me into the depths of anxiety. It wasn’t until years later that I was able to put a finger on it.

It was the ease with which heroes picked up the heroines in their arms. Even as a child, I knew that was something superhuman. When Shammi Kapoor lifter Sharmila like a dry twig in An evening in Paris, I gasped. Was it that easy? The question nagged me for years. The first thing I would notice in a song is the picking business and then wonder about it for hours. Of course, there was a category of actresses who were never lifted (like Meena Kumari) because lets face it, our heroes were not trying to be in the Olympics.

image from here

And then SRK happened in the 90s. I think he set some sort of a world record by picking each and every woman who crossed his way. It drove me crazy. It was as if he was not able to control himself. Whenever he saw a woman in his movie, he had to open his arms, tilt a bit, give her a dimple. And then while she was swooning at the gestures, he would pounce at her and pick her up.

Of course, I never tried it at home at that point of time. With woman that is. I tried with buckets. And boy, were they heavy! When I got married, I told my wife (very early in our relationship), that I was going to pick her up and walk across the room in a slow gait singing a song, just like Veer picked up the heavy Zaara as if she was tied to strings from the ceiling. My wife was game.

Image from here

I remember, the first thing that appeared in front of my eyes after I picked up my wife were stars. Not the romantic, twinkling variety but those that appear with shooting pain. But then I remembered to my horror that I was supposed to walk across the room and my wife was looking expectantly at me, as she gripped my neck in what I think was a deadly Taekwondo lock. There wasn’t much time and I was not supposed to drop her on the floor. It was an arranged marriage.

I galloped across the room cursing all the Bollywood actors. I even forgot to sing the song. We never tried it again.

Now that I look back, I don’t blame the heroes. They must have been on drugs. You really don’t know what you are doing when you are under their spell. It must have been tough for them. SRK had a back problem years ago.

It was a childhood fantasy for me. But I did what I always wanted to do. At least I tried. My wife was euphoric later although I could see beads of perspiration on her forehead when I was sprinting across the room with her in my arms. Isn’t that is what is important in life? Trying.

Valentine’s day is upon us. So I thought I would share the story of what I thought at that point of time to be one of the most intimate and romantic gestures I had shown to my lady. Of course, now I think it was anti-feminist. And no, it isn’t a case of sour grapes. How can you even think like that? Look at the way our society treats women. It is all because of these Bollywood heroes picking actresses in their arms and showing them as weak. Why would anyone pick a woman in his arms? She can’t walk? Did you take her permission? I think we should carry out a campaign, burn effigies and beat our chests if a hero tries to do that again. We should debate this on news channels. How dare they show women in poor light?

The armchair activist inside me is waking up again. Maybe I should write the “Dear India, what the fuck?” post. It is amazing how my perspective changed over the years. It took only a handful of stars.

CroreHit Shetty goes to Hollywood

New York Depress starring Brave Willis and Emma Wandson

Crore-Hit Shetty was pacing worriedly in his office. His last 7 movies have been blockbusters, generating revenues of over 100 crores each. Producers were falling over each other to make a movie with him. Top actors were rubbing their nose on his toenails to give them a chance. Recently, Kamsina Kaif had a massive heart attack when she was approached to do a dance number for his movie. She was overwhelmed to death.

Suddenly the phone rang. It was his dear friend, Safe-Run Khan.

“Are you taking me in your next or not?” Safe-Run shouted the moment Crore-Hit picked up the phone.

“Oh! You won’t believe what I am directing next. I have a Hollywood offer!” Crore-Hit blurted out. He could not hold it any longer.

“What!?!? Please take me! Please! I will dance in all the weddings of your family. Tell me you are not joking!”

“No, I am not! I have been approached by Hippo Searchlight to make an international movie for them.”

“So what is the problem? Why do you sound worried?”

“I don’t have a story!” Crore-Hit said exasperatedly.

“Bah! But you never did! Come on! Pick up any older movie of yours. Pick Chennai Depress. Turn it into New York Depress,” Safe-Run suggested.

“Oh my Crores! You are a genius! I will give you a role in it,” Crore-Hit said and kept the receiver back. Safe-Run wanted to tell him that he would be happy to play even a telephone booth in his movie, but he kept that for later. 

Crore-Hit started working on the modifying the script. He took help of his lungi friends like Sajid Crap, Sajid’s sister Farha Crap, and Arbaaz Crap. The first thing they did was to take away all the South Indian characters out of Chennai Depress and fill them with stereotyped Caucasians. Then the locations of all the romantic songs were changed. There was one song atop the New York subway now and another one where the actors hang upside down from the Golden Gate. Just-Teen Burger was roped in to lend his voice to the lead actress while Yo Yo Donkey Singh was finalized to playback for the male lead.

“What about the crappy one liners and stale jokes?” Crore-Hit asked the Crap clan.

As an answer, Farha Crap took out the ‘Stereotype encyclopaedia for Blondes’ from her bag. The elite directors spent the rest of the day digging out jokes from the book and fitting them in various parts in the screenplay. 

“Have they finalized the starcast yet?” Karamchand, the editor-in-chief of Film-unfair asked Crore-Hit Shetty in a page 3 party.

“Yes, they are taking Brave Willis and Emma Wandson.”

“Isn’t Brave a bit old for the role? And Emma is 1/10^th his age,” Karamchand said.

“But the audience loves old men and young girls. It’s aphrodisiacal,” Crore-Hit said flashing his teeth. 

Finalizing the actress for the item number was a monumental task. Crore-hit finally decided to hold a dance competition and invited Brave Willis to judge it with Farha Crap. It was a disaster. Three actresses shot each other with machine guns while one of them had her eyeballs clawed out. One actress was found naked tied to a commode while another one’s hair caught fire mysteriously. Another one died in a landmine blast just outside the venue. It was finally decided that an international celebrity should be taken. Sunny Lube-onee was finally signed because of her varied ‘exposures’ in the field. 

The movie went on floor and the Hollywood production house was pleasantly taken aback by the amazingly grotesque treatment of the subject. Crore-Hit convinced them that this is what the audience want nowadays. He told them that they leave their brains at home (India’s latest contribution to the list of Idioms) and laugh at all jokes from the Stereotype Encyclopaedia. The highlight of the movie was Brave Willis pelvic thrusting a song in the voice of Yo Yo Donkey Singh on top of a subway train as Emma Wandson quivered semi-naked in front of him. She lip synced Just-teen Burger’s rendition of the duet as a group of hundred dancers gyrated with her atop the train. The whole of New York was out on the streets to see this unbelievable spectacle. 

The movie earned billions of dollars. Crore-Hit Shetty was rechristened BullShit Shetty in international circles.

Safe-Run Khan loved his promised cameo in New York Depress. He was the one who helped Emma Wandson get on the train by giving her his hand, followed by Emma doing an ‘Obliviate’ on him. He looked forward to promote the movie in India by appearing with the lead star cast on the best television shows like See.Eye.Duh and ‘Niyati entangled in the whirlpool of relationships’.

Meanwhile BullShit Shetty was offered to direct the next part of Aven-jerks – The rise of Loki, Tinda and Tori. 

A chat with the Seducers

They have been entertaining us for years. You cannot imagine Bollywood without their gyrations. In this nation where an average Indian struggles for a meal, they are like a shining beacon in cold nights giving equal respite to the underprivileged and the privileged. Why would I like to chat with them, you may ask? It is to know their secret formula, to know what makes them thrust, to know what inspires them to do jiggle their assets.

It was an honor to be connected to the Seven Sexy Seducers on WeChat and talk to them. Now won’t it be best if I share with you our chat history? That will give you enough fodder as to why I was jumping with joy when I got this opportunity.

Oh! But before that, let me introduce them to you.

Me : Hello Ladies. This is history in the making.

Mehbooba : History? Are you trying to insult me by telling me that I am old now?

Chikni Chameli : LOL

Me : No! I meant this is history in the making because all of you are here chatting together.

Mehbooba : Ah! And Chikni Chameli, show some respect. I have done more dance numbers than the number of clothes you are wearing.

Badmaash Babli : ROLF! Mehbooba, like seriously! Do you live in a cave? Chances are that Chikni Chameli is hardly wearing anything.

Ku Ku Ku : Mehboobaji, girls nowadays do not wear skin colored clothes like in your times. They aren’t hypocrites and of course they do not have any respect.

Me : Ladies! Really, this is a most interesting cat fight but can we just chat? Can all of you share your thoughts about what drove you to do all those dance numbers?

Mehbooba, Laila, Badnaam Munni, Halkat Jawani, Chikni Chameli, Badmaash Babli, Ku Ku Ku : The love of Art.

Me : Wow! 5 minutes into the chat and I have tears in my eyes. What else? You all know that the men in our country love you to bits. Movies make crores because of you. Your item numbers are the first ones to be aired to generate enough testosterone to make families come and watch the movie. So what else makes you gyrate in addition to love of art?

Laila : *blush blush*

Halkat Jawani : Why are you blushing? The last item number you did was in 1980.

Ku Ku Ku : RESPECT ladies!

Chikni Chameli : Is it because you are soon going to join their ranks? LOL!

*This was not going the way I wanted it to*

Me : Ladies, can we get back to the question?

Laila : I did it for fame too. There. I said it. We all do it for fame. We love it when men fall over each other to touch us and our bodyguards fling them in random directions. It is addictive.

Badmaash Babli : See, the basic fact is that a majority of the people are sexually starved and we capitalize on it. There is no harm in it. The whole world capitalizes on things that can be capitalized upon.

Mehbooba : I never thought about it that way. I loved dancing.

Badnaam Munni : I think the whole concept has evolved over the years. The dynamics and the stakes have changed. Heroines never did item numbers earlier. Now we do not need someone like Mehbooba. I think it started changing during the time of Laila.

Me : But the item number is not about dancing anymore, isn’t it?

Ku Ku Ku : No it is not. It is more about profits now. It is about gathering as much people as you can to recover your production costs. It is more about moving parts of your body in unimaginable ways to arouse men.

Me : And all of you know that?

Halkat Jawani : Of course we know that! Who do you think we are? Paris Hilton?

Me : Ok. Forget about all the statistics but is it exciting to know that lakhs of men lust after you? That given a chance, they will pounce on you?

Laila : Sweetheart, a man who has to pounce on you will pounce on you, irrespective of the item number. The world is abundant with pouncers. 

Me : But given the fact that an average Indian male is sexually oppressed and consider all women not related to him as objects, don’t you think that you are fanning the fires here?

Badmash Babli : Look, it is a simple demand and supply phenomenon. Stop watching movies with item numbers and Bollywood will stop making them. We are just riding on the tide.

Me : What about morality?

Halkat Jawani, Chikni Chameli : Fu*k morality.

Mehbooba : Jesus!

Badnaam Munni : LOL! Let who is without sin cast the first stone.

Chikni Chameli : Cigarettes cause cancer but we still manufacture them. Alcohol is injurious to health. Why do we manufacture guns and bombs? Why do prostitutes exist? Darling, you are talking about morality in a world that has buried it long ago.

Laila : Do you really think our society will turn Mother Teresa if item numbers are banned?

Me : I believe that they are a part of the problem. And I don’t believe morality is dead. There are people who still swear by it and are fighting for its existence. It is a matter of talking sides. It is a matter of convincing yourself that there are things more important than money. 

Chikli Chameli, Ku Ku Ku : Ha!

Me : All right ladies, lets not be so serious. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Mehbooba, tell us what you think about the new girls?

Mehbooba : Too bold for my taste. And I do not understand the concept of wiggling bosoms. I think it was Ku Ku Ku who started it and now everyone is giving the twins a roller-coaster ride.

Laila : Exactly. If we line all the ladies up against the Great Wall of China and let loose the tremors, the wall will have a gaping hole in minutes. Why is everyone doing that?

Chikni Chameli : Laila, now really! You have subjected people to enough horizontal wiggling in your songs.

Badnaam Munni : I guess people like it. And lets not talk about morality again.

Me : It is a two way road. I think a society where actresses fall over each other to do an item number says a lot about the society as well but there has to be a sense of responsibility in the industry too. Actresses are not machines on a production line that have to manufacture a product that they are designed for. It is not a simple demand and supply. We are humans with brains.

Forgotten Heroes – Tuffy and Pigeon

There were times when Tuffy could not believe that he was sleeping on the road, fighting with stray dogs over tiny morsels of food. He lived in a mansion once, where everyone sang and danced, where he was once made an umpire in a game about which he had no idea (all he knew was that one of the wooden boards had a bit of chicken tikka masala rubbed on it and whenever he picked it up, everyone screamed and pointed at the sky). Those were the good old days.

Pigeon sat on a wire, curiously studying the familiar dog that gnawed at a bone near one of the huge dustbins. Even though he was dirty and his shiny white mane was hardly visible, the pigeon could not whisk away the inkling that the face was too familiar. Pigeon did not have any friends. The fact that he was white gave him delusions of grandeur. This really pissed off the usual grey pigeons and they kept him at bay. As he saw the dog, the pigeon remembered the time when he was a pet and sighed. He missed how Suman rubbed his nipples while singing. Those were the good old days.

He flew towards the dog.

“I hope I am not disturbing you Sir but are you Tuffy?” the pigeon asked.

The dog looked up. It was days since anyone has talked to him.

“Yes, I am,” he said.

“It is a privilege to meet you sir! I am aware of your heroic deeds and how you helped Prem and Nisha in Hum Aapke Hain Kaun.”

“Wait! Are you Prem and Suman’s pigeon from Maine Pyar Kiya?”

“Yes, Sir. I am,” the pigeon said puffing his chest.

“You were quite heroic yourself. The way you helped Prem and Suman was commendable.”

“Thank you Sir. So what happened? Why are you here?” the pigeon asked. Tuffy sighed.

“Well! I got bored. It wasn’t as if I didn’t like the family but they were getting irritating,” Tuffy said.

“Tell me about it!” the pigeon said rolling his eyes.

“Their house was so bloody big and then everyone was calling my name all the time. I have had enough of running. And then they would sing like 20 songs in a day and made me dance on my hind legs. It wasn’t funny,” Tuffy said.

“I know what you mean. I loved the way Suman held me in her hands and rubbed my crotch but she would throw me in the air like 50 times in a day to send a message to Prem. They lived in the same bloody house!” Pigeon said.

“There was always a crowd in that house. It was as if a whole country was living there. And people will pull my hair, pick me up, toss me around, make me run. By the time I went to sleep at night, my muscles would be burning,” Tuffy said as a tear slip down his cheek.

“I must confess something. I hated my owner. She had this permanent begging expression on her face. And the way she said Prem almost killed me. I wanted to peck out her eyes. And she was a tube light. The poor guy took her to the balcony to have sex with her and she won’t let him. She made him sing and dance till he collapsed of exhaustion,” Pigeon said.

“Nisha and Prem were idiots too. She prepared food for him, wore here fancy pink dress and when they had all the time in the world, they danced! Can you fuc*ing believe that! And her sister who fell off the stairs was another idiot. Why did she have to dance all over the house to get into a room? No one in that stupid family knew how to walk. They even danced before going to the loo. I wonder how they reproduced,” Tuffy said in disgust.

The dam was broken. Old wounds were opening.

“Are you happy now?” Pigeon asked.

“Hell yeah!” Tuffy answered licking the bone he was holding in his paws, “Of course, I miss Nisha at times.”

“Why is that?” Pigeon asked in surprise.

“Nisha had a habit of touching me at inappropriate places.”

“Really? Suman also had that habit. She would run her hands all over me as if I was a Kashmiri shawl. Since I never had a girlfriend, this was the closest I came to having sex.”

“I don’t know. I was always aroused by Nisha. Once she wore a backless purple blouse and swayed her hips like melons tumbling off a cart. Heaven!”

“Oh! That was classic. Vagaries of the civilized world.”

“Tell me pigeon. Did you actually push that villain off the cliff?”

“I have never talked about this. Well no, I was not trying to kill him. I was trying to kill Prem. When Suman was thrown out of Prem’s house by his father, I had no idea that he would come after her. Oh! How I wanted to put my beak in his nose and pull out his brains when I saw him in the village. Even though I hated Suman’s shrivelled face, the physical pleasures she gave me were too much to sacrifice. I thought that if Prem died, she will be mine. But Alas, that idiot villain could not understand my intention. I was just trying to help him pull Prem down and he thought I was attacking him,” pigeon said with a sad expression.

“I would like to confess something too. When Nisha gave me that letter to give to Prem, I thought that giving it to his elder brother will create a ruckus and he will still marry her and make her life hell. And then she will be mine. She will always turn to me for comfort. But the fool made her marry Prem. I cried buckets that day,” Tuffy said.

As Tuffy and Pigeon were busy being nostalgic, no one noticed a tigress coming from behind. Before Pigeon could spread his wings, she landed her paw on his tail and closed her mouth over his head.

“NOoooo,” Tuffy shouted and jumped at the tigress. He did not see a blurred movement of her paw that slashed against his jaw, flinging him at a wall on his right. Tuffy slid down the wall like a dead fly.

Within seconds, the tigress was licking her claws as a few feathers slid off her mouth.

“Pathetic animals! I can’t believe someone took them as pets. Look at me! Now I am a majestic animal worthy of being a hero. I am elated that Himmatwala took me in. He is kinda sexy too. I love licking his shaved cheek,” the Tigress said fluttering her eyelashes. She then moaned and walked away to find Himmatwala.

The thought of another lick of the shaved cheek was too much to bear.

[Images from – 1,2,3,4, 5]

The Director’s Cut

I am a director. My vision has given wings to stories, flesh to characters and panache to words. I do not have a cinematographer, a costume designer, an art director, a make-up artist, a special effects supervisor. I do that myself. Alone.

I have the power to dissolved away my surroundings. I have the power to be deaf to tyres scraping on roads, to honks hammering my ear drums, to mouths producing conversations, to songs blaring out of machines. There are times when the car dismantle around me – strips of metal fly away, the seat dissolve beneath me, the humans vanish in fumes – and then I am sitting alone, ready to direct my movie. Ready to be devoured by what I love the most. My private universe.

I open the book and my fingers melt into the pages and then I am somewhere else. I am a time traveler.

The idea was breathing with me. It was not planted but surfaced at the right time. It took time to evolve but soon I was directing books instead of reading them. It started in the 90s. Like the rest of India, I was awestruck by DDLJ and my directorial debut was a Shahrukh-Kajol starrer named The Heir of Redclyffe by  Charlotte M. Yonge. Tears trickled down my cheeks when Guy Morville (played by SRK) dies of a fever leaving a widowed Kajol behind. Yes, such was the magic of my directorial debut. SRK and Kajol played numerous important roles in the classics like The Wuthering Heights (although I replaced them with Hrithik and Kareena in a remake later), Rebecca, Gone with the wind, Anna Karenina, The Scarlet Letter etc. The list is endless. While SRK and Kajol reached the heights of stardom by featuring in my movies, Aamir was as usual sulking. So, I threw an occasional Barnaby Rudge and Jude the Obscure towards him. You might throw a spear of a question towards me asking why were Bollywood actors playing Caucasian roles? It was, dear readers, an alternate reality. It was supposed to be insane.

It wasn’t just the classics where the Bollywood actors were shining. SRK (!), Kajol (!) and Saif came together for The Fountainhead. Who played Ellsworth M. Toohey, you may ask. Nasseruddin Shah. Movies like The English Patient, Sphere, Birdsong, The Bind Assassin, 1984, Life of Pi etc kept coming out with Bollywood actors till the director in me outgrew the SRK-Kajol pair and wanted something more. I wanted to work with Foreign actors. And thus started an era of movies where I worked with Jack Nicholson, Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt in A Finkler Question, Japanese actors in Memoirs of a Geisha, Black actors in The Colour Purple and countless other movies.

Soon afterwards, my nation started calling me back and I did The Immortals of Meluha with Hrithik as Shiva. A new idea was germinating. I wanted to go for collaborations. Sometimes blind ones. I picked up The Wheel of Time. It was an epic 14 books fantasy series and a huge star cast was required. I had no idea what the story was and hence I randomly assigned actors. It was a gamble but it created results seen never before on the screen. Katrina was paired opposite Brad Pitt. She almost fainted at the proposition. Kareena became the Amyrlin Seat (after uprooting the wicked Angelina Jolie) with a lost puppy of a Matt Damon trailing her. Yes, who would have thought? Priyanka Chopra ended up as Bradley Cooper’s sister. There were minor hiccups like Aishwarya Rai falling in love with Amitabh’s character, but then we were playing blind, weren’t we?

I had tasted blood.

I read A Song of Ice and Fire Series next and had an equally enchanting star cast lined up. And then The Malazan Book of the Fallen happened. It was strange to see Amitabh and Hrithik playing Gods. It was strange to see Rani Mukherjee and Tobey Maguire together in a scene with A.K. Hangal in the background. It was strange to see Aishwarya playing Empress Laseen talking to Sergeant Whiskeyjack played by Arnold. It was strange to see Ashmit Patel (a slave and a mistake) trying to calm down a weeping emperor played by Johnny Depp. It was strange to see Kareena commanding an army with George Clooney standing next to her as a sergeant and then she goes ahead and kills Kristen Stewart of Twilight fame (they played sisters).

In the end it is not just about the actors but about the visualization – the costumes, the makeup, the backdrop, the special effects, the music and the acting. It is about watching a book and enjoying the experience. I assume it is an art we all possess but the limits vary.

This is another reason the movies in the real world never live up to the books. I have already created them in vivid details in my mind. I have already seen them. I have already directed them.

Nothing comes close to the joy of carrying a world at my disposal in my brain. There are moments while turning pages when I forget that I am turning them, when I forget that I am physically outside the book, when nothing exists except the screen.

[images from 1,2,3,4]

Indian Idle

“Hello everyone! I am Nitin Haddkari and you are watching a very special episode of Celebrity Indian Idle! Please welcome our judges for tonight’s show. Our first judge is our very own number 2, Mr. Raul Gandhi…..” 

“What does Raul know about dance?” Mrs. Shukla who was sitting in the crowd whispered to her neighbour.

“Does it matter? What do Sajid Khan, Karan Johar and Mithun Chakraborty know about dance?” Mrs. Taneja replied.

“And why is Haddkari even hosting this show?” Mrs. Shukla asked.

“What else is there to do now? Besides, his hairy legs are turning me on,” Mrs. Taneja replied.

“Ummm. Me too.” 

“….Our second judge for tonight is Asaram Beg-u, who has taken out time from his busy schedule to be on this show. We had to beg for his presence because that is what he likes to see people do……”

“Christ!” Mrs. Shukla gasped.

“……….Our third judge is my driver Mansukhiya. Mansukhiya has been a loyal servant of our family from the last 20 years and is the CEO of one of my companies. So let’s have a round of applause for our judges and let’s begin the show!!”

The judges take their seats. Raul and Asaram Beg-u have quite a tussle for the centre seat but then Raul points at Rob-us Wadra sitting in the audience. Beg-u mumbles somethings like ‘bloody national calamity’ and sits on one of the side seats. Mansukhiya sits on the floor before Haddkari comes and yanks his arm and say something like ‘Are you Chu*iya?’ and pushes him on one of the seat. 

“Our first contestant is the very gorgeous Sonak-chi Sinha! She has done some amazing award-winning work last year in movies like Rowdy Rathore, Joker, Dabangg 2 and Son of Sardar! Please welcome!” Haddkari announces.

All 130 kg of Sonak-chi Sinha enters the stage in a bright red sari. The song Po-Po-Po-Po-Po fills the auditorium and Sonak-chi gargles to the tune. The audience cheer her loudly. Shatru-gun Sinha is in tears to see his baby girl do him proud.

“That was a perfect performance! Judges what do you have to say to this?” Haddkari asks the judges as Sonak-chi stands next to him chewing her finger.

“I loved it! Sonak-chi, your performance reminded me of our scams. The gargle step is so much like the way we have gargled the citizens of the nation and spit them out. Outstanding!” Raul beamed.

“It was a beautiful performance. Sonak-chi, will you come to my camp and dance with me?” Asaram ji asked shyly.

“Rubbish performance! Ye koi dance hai (Is this dance)?” Mansukhiya mumbled. There is a collective gasp and everyone stares at him. Haddkari throws his mike at him.

“Saale harami! Nikal bahar! Bahar nikal! (Bloody illegitimate! Get out! Out get!)” Haddkari screams as he drags Mansukhiya out. Sonak-chi is bawling by now.

“Khamosh!” Shatru-gun Sinha screams from the audience podium which makes Sonak-chi instantly stop and shudder.

“Sorry ladies and gentlemen! Mansukhiya will be replaced by Kanta Ben who is my maid and the Chairman of one of my companies,” Haddkari announces. Kanta Ben comes and sits next to Raul. She smells of phenyl which makes Raul dizzy. He looks at Asaram Beg-u and is alarmed by a cockroach stumbling out of his beard.

“Our next contestant is our very own silencer MaunMohan Singh!” Haddkari announces.

MaunMohan Singh enters the stage and waves at the audience. He then proceeds to stand in the exact middle of the stage and stares at the audience for two minutes. He then looks at Haddkari and says – done. Raul is in tears by now.

“What a wonderfully poignant performance! Judges what do you have to say?”

“This was by far your best performance MaunMohan Ji. I am short of words,” Raul says wiping off his tears using Kanta Ben’s pallu. He almost faints in the process.

“You remind me so much of all those silent movies I have watched as a child. You have revived my old memories,” Asaram says wiping a sole tear with his beard.

“Aigo! Mast performance! After all, you have been practicing from the last 9 years.” Kanta Ben says.

“It seems MaunMohan ji have won the heart of our judges! Our next performance is a belly dance by the one and only Baba Rum-de! Please welcome!”

Baba Rum-de enters the stage and performs a unique belly dance called Kapalbhati where he flips alternate coins on his belly. He then makes the coins jump in air as the dance becomes fierce and his belly quivers alarmingly. One of the coin lands in Asaram’s beard and kills the cockroach residing there.

“That was one sexy performance Babaji. Lets ask the…..,” Haddkari said.

“You killed him! You bloody killer! You killed Abhimanyu!” Asaram was up on his seat before Haddkari could complete his sentence.

“Who in seven hells is Abhimanyu?” Raul asked.

“The cockroack,” Asaram said sobbing.

“Why did he name his pet cockroach Abhimanyu?” Mrs. Shukla whispered.

“Maybe it was his beard. The poor thing might have been lost in that chakravyuh for years,” Mrs. Taneja whispered back.

“What do you have to say Raul ji?” HaddKari asked.

“I loved it. It was very arousing,” Raul replied.

“Oh! You haven’t seen arousing yet *wink wink*. Kanta Ben?” HaddKari said.

“Mast! Mast! What a stomach! Jusht like the utensils after I clean them”

“Thank you Rum-de ji. It was an honour watching you dance. Our next participant is the sexy, the seductive, the pole-bearer Sunny le-nahi. Please welcome!”

A pole is fitted in the center of the stage and Sunny enters wrapped in a plastic sheet. The pole dance starts amidst wide eyes and rising trousers. Haddkari crosses his legs like Sharon Stone. Mrs. Shukla sighs and faints. Beg-u hides his face with his beard. Kanta Ben whispers deva-re-deva and covers Raul’s eyes with her pallu. He thrashes desperately for fresh air but chokes and faints. During the dance, the plastic sheet covering Sunny gets entangled in a nail on the pole and comes free. Kanta Ben faints too. Sunny keeps dancing. Haddkari is on all five begging for mercy. Rob-us Wadra whistles and fires shots in air from his expensive gun. The audience thrust their children under the seats. Bachelors are busy making video of the once-in-a-lifetime event. Married men stare at the ground as their wives study them intensely. Suddenly the programme goes off air.

There is an uproar on Twitter and internet about the way the programme turned vulgar in the end. A committee is organised. It is found that PoleMeBaby, the company that provided the pole used in Sunny’s performance is at fault as all this happened because of the nail. The licence of the company is cancelled.

And, of course, Sunny le-nahi wins the first prize of Celebrity Indian Idle. 

[images from 1,2,3,4]

The Middle Finger Awards 2012

Welcome to the Middle Finger Awards 2012 presented by Mashed Musings. The awards honors the best news makers of 2012 in various categories. We are committed to an unbiased and honest approach toward selecting the nominees and the winners. If you have any concerns about any of the winners not deserving his/her award, please keep it to yourself.
So, lets begin the ceremony.

*Drum rolls. Trumpets Blaring*

Here is the first category :

The Middle Finger Award for the Most Courageous act of 2012

And the nominees are :

Dr. Manmohan Singh – for gathering enough courage to address the nation 7 days after the protests and letting everyone know that he too is a father and there aren’t enough commandoes protecting his daughters. Theek hai?

Sheila Dixit – for having the courage to come to Jantar Mantar and lightening something that looked like a half burnt candle while the crowd booed her.

Anushka Sharma – for wearing a blue XXL vest in Kashmir for a Yash Chopra movie.

Delhi Police Chief, Neeraj Kumar – for his courageous act to save Delhi Police from further shame and twisting facts. Apparently, he hasn’t heard the story of the shepherd and the wolf.

Madhura Honey – for her courageous act of walking with the Indian team in Olympics opening ceremony in a red top and blue jeans looking completely out of place. Just like all those students in Student of the Year.

And the Middle Finger goes to *drum rolls* Manmohan Singh!!!! For his courageous bland as boiled pasta speech to pacify the nation.

Our next category is :

The Middle Finger Award for the Most limelight hungry Indian of 2012

The nominees are –

Abhijit Mukherjee – for the dented painted comment and letting Indians know that the President has a big mouthed son.

Kailash Vijayvargiya, Madhya Pradesh Minister – for talking about Laxman Rekha when he should have actually zipped it up.

Banwari Lal Singhal, BJP MLA, Rajasthan – for being disturbed by girls wearing skirts as he found it difficult to take his eyes off their legs.

Haryana Khaps – for leaving no stone unturned to be on national media and make us realize that humans haven’t completely evolved from apes.

Dharamvir Goyat, Haryana Congress member – for sharing his pearls of wisdom with us about 90% of rape cases being consensual.

And the Middle Finger goes to *drum rolls* the Haryana Khaps for their consistency in churning out drivel!!!

Our next category is :

The Middle Finger Award for The Best Blind Eye of 2012.

The nominees are –

Delhi Police – for using teargas, water cannons and Lathis on college students and women and then wondering why people threw stones at them.

BJP ministers in Karnataka – for turning a blind eye towards all the cameras pointed at them as they enjoyed porn in the assembly.

Indian Citizens – for craving for popcorn while they circled the rape victim lying naked, shivering and bleeding on the road.

Indian Politicians – for ignoring thousands of rape victims till waves of people came out on roads and threw stones.

Vijay Mallya – for donating 3 Kg gold to Tirupati temple while his employees went without salary for months.

And the Middle Finger goes to *drum rolls* the Indian Citizens for achieving the impossible of turning back the clock of human evolution.

Lets move to the next category which is :

The Middle Finger Award for the Most Confused Indian

The nominees are –

Pratibha Patil – for pardoning rapists and murderers and getting confused about her right to not to be a puppet who has to sign a pardon when asked.

Sushil Kumar Shinde – for confusing students with Maoists.

Arvind Kejriwal – for confusing the nation by jumping from one issue to another and giving everyone a terrible headache.

Saif Ali Khan – for his role in the movie Cocktail where he confused the audience in the first half into believing that he wasn’t playing an assho*e.

Delhi Police – for discussing confusing matters of jurisdiction as the rape victim and her friend lay on the road naked and bleeding.

And the Middle Finger goes to *drums roll* Pratibha Patil for letting loose deranged criminals on the society.

The next category is :

The Middle Finger Award for the most Dramatic Indian of 2012

And the nominees are –

Salman Khurshid – for his saas Bahu dialogues about replacing ink with blood if Arvind Kejriwal tried to enter his domain. No shit.

Robert Vadra – for collecting unmatched black wealth, mocking the nation and then getting away with it by saying something with a mango and banana in it.

Mamata Banerjee – for her histrionics by equating rapes to political conspiracies and asking profound questions like why men and women are allowed to mingle in our society.

Ponty brothers – for their swift and fortunate exit from the world.

Suresh Kalmadi – for having the nerve to express his desire to attend Olympics after being released on bail for the CWG scam.

And the Middle Finger goes to *drum rolls* Robert Vadra for his unmatched feat of taking the whole nation for a ride.

The next category is :

The Middle Finger Award of the most Senselessly Swift Indian of 2012

The nominees are –

Mumbai Police – for their swift response in arresting two girls for stating the truth on Facebook.

Delhi Police – for swiftly arresting 8 random men after a constable died in the protests and filing an FIR without any proof.

Akbaruddin Owaisi – for swiftly going underground in London after his arrest warrant was out in India.

Indian Government – for swiftly moving the rape victim to Singapore when it became apparent that she was not going to live.

The Dengue Mosquito – for swiftly taking away the king of romance, Yash Chopra in the blink of an eye.

And the Middle Finger goes to *drums roll* The Indian Government for acting in the nick of time to save themselves from the blame of the rape victim’s death.

The Middle Finger Lifetime Achievement Award

The  award goes to the man who held a whole city to ransom for years, who divided the country on the basis of the state in which you live and who wore sunglasses even in dark rooms – Shri Balasaheb Thackeray.

That’s it for this year folks! We sincerely hope that the viewers enjoyed the awards ceremony and congratulations to the most deserving winners. We will be back next year with more fun filled categories!!!

[image from 1, 2, 3]

Best of Bollywood in 2012

2012 was a different year for Bollywood. A handful of movies that come under the category of meaningful cinema were released and Bollywood realised that you can make money out of a sensible movie without being preachy (I am adding  information about collections to make that point). There were strong female leads this year both in front and behind the screen. While English Vinglish and Talaash were directed by Gauri Shinde and Reema Kagti, Sneha Khanwalkar blew me away by her music score in Gangs of Wasseypur. Barring Pan Singh Tomar and Oh My God, every movie listed below had strong female leads. Yes, we can do without item numbers. With élan.

Here is an alphabetical list of my favourites. If you are searching for Ek Tha Tiger, you will find it at the end of the post.

Barfi – The most heart tugging movie which came out last year. The eternal love story of Barfi and Jhilmil had all of us in tears. The movie sent a strong message that love does not know disabilities and gathered more than 106 crores in the process. If you forget the scenes copied from ‘City Lights’, this movie is nothing less than a masterpiece. I have reviewed it in detail here.

Ek Main Aur ekk Tu – A unique concept for Indian audience where the girl was calling the shots, where all the signals which men equate to commitment were rightly put to place. Commitments and relationships do not happen over assumptions. And yes, the girl can be older.  I loved the movie for its theme and the Indian audience were fine with it too. Made on a budget of 36 Crores, the movie made 40 crores and was a moderate success.

English Vinglish – Sridevi’s comeback vehicle and what a comeback! One of the most grounded movies of recent times, it is a story of a woman trying to prove herself and coming out with flying colours. No, she wasn’t just there to make Ladoos and to be abused by her daughter. There was more to her. Made on a budget of 15 crores, the movie earned 85 crores at the box office.

Gangs of Wasseypur 1 & 2 – The rawness of the movie will leave you breathless. The movie was a cinematic brilliance because of the depth of characters and triumph of storytelling. The gore was not everyone’s cup of tea but see beyond that and you will see the stellar performances of Manoj Bajpai, Nawazuddin Siddiqui and Huma Qureshi. Both the parts were made at a budget of 20 crores and raked in around 60 crores at the box office.

Kahani– An engaging thriller after such a long time. The movie broke all the clichés of a Bollywood movie – No songs, No male lead and a pregnant woman as the lead protagonist. There wasn’t a single dull moment in this fast paced suspense thriller. Made on a shoestring budget of 8 crores, the movie earned 104 crores at the box office.

Luv Shuv Tey Chicken Khurana – A simple feel good story of a boy who returns to his village to get his granddad’s famous chicken recipe to pay his debts. There are problems. His granddad does not remember a thing and the boy is falling in love with his brother’s fiancé. Add to it a crazy family and a servant named ‘Dalidri’. Made on a budget of 3 crores, the movie found its audience and earned 10 crores.

Oh my God – The movie showed us a mirror. It rightly portrayed the commercialisation of God and how common people allow themselves to be fooled by the business. The movie was the surprise hit of the year for me. Made on a budget of 20 crores, the movie earned 83 crores at the box office.

Paan Singh Tomar – The movie depicts the real life story of Paan Sigh Tomar who won numerous medals in national level racing events in India. He was an army man who turns into a dacoit because of the inability of the corrupt Indian law and order system to provide him justice. Watch this for Irrfan Khan. Made on a budget of 8 crores, the movie earned 38 crores at the box office.

Talaash – The most anticipated suspense movie of the year. A lot of people were disappointed by it but it does not take away the fact that the movie was beautifully crafted with some good performances. I loved the way the director left hints all over the movie. The movie earned 90 crores at the box office. It was made on a budget of 40 crores.

Vicky Donor – My favourite movie of the year and the only movie that I saw twice in the theatre. This was a unique concept and I believe had a very good chance at the Oscars. Aayushmann is a very lucky guy to get a dream debut like this movie. Made on a budget of 5 crores, the movie earned 46 crores at the box office.

Of course, these movies were not the top grossers of the year. Except for Barfi and Kahani, none of the movies made it to the 100 crores slot. Here is a list of the Hit Shit Nautanki movies of the year that I wish were never made –

Ek Tha Tiger – Story of a RAW agent and an ISI agent falling in love and jumping from one building to another.

Son of Sardar – Ajay Devgan plays a Sikh who cannot dance. And Sonakshi in that Red sari dancing like Mithun was the last straw.

Dabangg 2 – Kareena looks like an idiot wearing a blouse and petticoat in the Fevicol song. Stupid movie = Big money.

Bol Bachchan – DAFAQ did I just see? My eyes! My eyes!

Rowdy Rathore – Don’t angry me. Exactly.

Agneepath – Mutilation of a classic.

Housefull 2 – Sajid Khan tries to do a Manmohan Desai who then becomes the first soul to bawl in heaven.

Jab Tak Hai Jaan – One movie you wish Yash Chopra never made.

Cocktail – A modern Indian girl with a mind of her own is good for fuc*ing. A traditional Indian cow is good for marrying. Period.

Raaz 3 – The next time you see a decapitated body, try copulation to calm yourself.

Student of the Year – Keep a brick wali wall handy.

Next year is exciting with a lot of good movies lined up. Hopefully, we will have less of those heaving bosoms.

Some Random lines on a paper

There was a time when I had a lot of time at my hands, time enough to paint and sketch. And then life happened.
I shifted home a year back. The most heart-strumming experince of moving a house is that all your memories which you have stacked away in boxes come tumbling out. You past dances a full-monty and your brain pulls out images which you thought were lost somewhere. So, as I picked up these sketches from a cardboard box ten years after they were made, there was a smile on my face remembering a life that seems like a forgotten dream now.
When I made these sketches, I thought they were perfect but now I can see the mistakes I have made. Urmila’s eyes need more work and Sridevi looks like a cross between herself and Divya Bharti. Raveena’s lips look as if she is straining them against a glass window and Aamir does not have teeth.
But let me not bore you with the nitty-gritty. Go ahead and enjoy these wisps of my memories.

If you liked the sketches, you might also like a few of my paintings.
Before you leave, I have a few more things to say. A few days back, I was given two blog awards. I haven’t thanked the bloggers who gave me those awards, so here goes –

Ricky gave me the Liebester award a few weeks back.
Sapna gave me the Best Blog of 2012 award.

Thank you Sapna and Rickie for all the praise and considering my blog. Both of you made my day.

And in the end, please do not forget to promote my story idea for the Get Published contest on Indiblogger sponsered by Harper Collins by pressing the Like button on this link –

http://www.indiblogger.in/getpublished/idea/237/

Talaash – Movie Review

*The post does not contain any spoilers*

Aamir Khan always manage to ruffle an unparalleled euphoria with the release of his movies. When an actor works in one movie a year, sometimes the hype acts as a deterrent even though the movie is exceptionally well made. Talaash is one such case.

The movie begins with the death of superstar Armaan Kapoor. His car rushing on an empty road suddenly veers towards the sea and he drowns to his death. Enters inspector Surjan Singh Shekhawat (Aamir Khan) who is handling this high profile case with too many loose ends. Trails start going cold one after another and the leads are pointing nowhere. Armaan was not drunk that night, neither was he high on drugs. Surjan who has his own ghosts to fight in addition to this case is completely stressed out. He and his wife Roshni (Rani Mukerji) are drifting apart due to a personal tragedy. Surjan cannot sleep at nights and amble through the streets of Mumbai. It is during such a stressful night that he meets Rosy (Kareena Kapoor), a prostitute who works in an area near the site of Armaan’s death.

There are other tracks in the story like those of Tehmur (Nawazuddin Siddiqui), a handicapped man living in the red light area  who hold clues to the jigsaw. The stories start converging as the movie proceeds and leads to a satisfying climax. Although I was able to guess it a few minutes before it actually happened, it came as a shock to some people.

A murder mystery need not be fast paced. Talaash is not an edge of the seat thriller but it grasps your attention from the first frame. The movie moves at a leisurely pace, establishing the characters and their dilemmas. Surjan’s character is going through a major turbulence in his personal life while handling this case. I heard a few people saying that the movie is a bit dull and slow but I do not agree. I found it well balanced and having a script which focused on character development – a term which most of today’s Bollywood script writers do not understand.

I believe that a major achievement of any movie can be when the audience forget that they are watching stars in action, when the audience is drawn into the movie, forgetting that they are sitting in a cinema hall. The movie worked for me in that sense as well. Even though the movie is almost 2.30 hours long, I was hooked and did not feel the passage of time.

Aamir has done exceptionally well because simple things are more difficult to enact. The pain Surjan is going through is stark and comes out as a raw wound. You feel pity for him. Rani plays Roshni in a restrained manner showing no histrionics. There is this scene in one of the songs where the couple is clicking a family photograph with their son. The family looks completely conventional with no traces of stardom on the lead actors. Despite Aamir and Rani’s superior performances, it is Kareena who stands out as Rosy. Her scenes with Aamir are beautifully done, especially the ones near the beach at night. I loved her dialogues in those scenes, the aura she creates while she shares Surjan’s anguish and her own.

It is a movie that I will count amongst the best which came out this year. The background score was great and set the mood and built up the suspense. Although I would have preferred no songs but surprisingly the songs were good enough and did not deter the pace.

I sincerely hope that the hype does not kill the movie because it is well made and enjoyable. People might have slightly different expectations from an Aamir Khan movie but this kind of well crafted and well enacted movie deserve its run and should be encouraged. I would give it a 4.5 out of 5.

Parting shot – If you loved Ek Tha Tiger and Son of Sardar, it would be better if you stay away from this movie.