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]

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.

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.

Kamina Mahina

For those of you whose Hindi is as deplorable as Sonia Gandhi’s, Kamina is Rascal and Mahina is Month, so the post title is – Rascal Month.

Now to understand what I am about to narrate, you absolutely have to see this song.

*Warning – Make sure there are no children around because they will start asking unnecessary questions like why Uncle and Aunty are not kissing each other instead of dancing like a bear and a baby elephant. Yes, that is exactly what they ask. Behold the Hashmi Generation!

Now, if you were able to endure the video till the end, let me congratulate you because you have the GQ (Gyration quotient) of 250. There is a high possibility that you are a product of the 90s when such bouncing breasts and swaying posterior exercises were the bread and butter of an army of choreographers.

The year was 1994. I was 15, high on Shilpa Shirodkar’s assets (yes, the actress in the video). She used to turn me on every time she jumped on that window and shillyshally-ed her tush. Akshay Kumar used to be hairy during those days. He was trying to take over Anil Kapoor but his growth was not even 10% of the minimum required KL (Kapoor Limit) because you could still see his body parts other than his head. To reach KL, it was mandatory to look like a head floating in air in a dark room. Back to Shilpa Shirodkar. There was something very seductive in her moves. Although now when I see the song, I wonder how the house was able to stand the earthquake she unleashed or how Akshay did not end up with multiple fractures.

The incident happened in the summer of 94. One of our neighbours left her three year old daughter, Kittu, in our house for a few hours. I played with Kittu. I really tried. I banged her balloon on her head, beheaded her doll, squeezed the doll to produce a sound from the whistle in her foot, asked Kittu to go on and eat her doll’s hair and stuff like that. Seeing me so lovingly take care of the little girl, mom went to take a bath after a while. I was dead bored playing with a girl 5 times younger to me and thus switched on the television. After flipping through a few channels, I came across Shilpa trampling Akshay and decided to enjoy the song. I had no idea that Kittu will be absorbing the spectacle like a sponge.

To my utter respite, Kittu’s mother arrived in the evening. As she plonked on the sofa, Kittu ran towards her. She suddenly stopped a foot away from her mother, took the corner of her skirt between her tiny fingers and to my horror, started singing the song she had so silently watched.

“Mast mahina bada kamina, rimzzzzim hai barrrrrrrrrsaat

Kamina kamina bada zzzza mahina”

My eyes popped out and bounced on the floor. I turned into water and splashed on the ground. The Earth cracked open and I was going in. Mom looked at me and narrowed her eyes to invisible slits. Kittu’s mother was speechless. I could hear her scream in her mind – Hai! Hai! What have the Sharmas done to my daughter? This is what they teach their children?

“Ye tu kya ga rahi hai?!?! (What the hell are you singing?),” she asked Kittu when she was able to get back her voice.

But Kittu was somewhere else. She was rotating holding her skirt and kept singing – “Kamina Kamina, bada zzzza mahina!” She was in a trance, stuck in the song and refused to come out of it. Aunty finally picked up a rotating Kittu and left.

Now when I think about it, it was such a different world back then. Now parents allow their children to dance to all sort of raunchy numbers and ‘Kamina Mahina’ sounds like a nursery rhyme. I also realized that children have an immense observation power. They might be sitting harmlessly in a corner but that brain of theirs is always working like an intrinsic clock. Parents who take their children to Adults only movies have no idea what they are subjecting their children to and you can find plenty of such brainless parents in India.

Unfortunately, my mother had a similar realisation that her son was being subjected to too much of Shilpas and Mamta Kulkarnis and she started keeping an eye on me. My dates with Shilpa were over.

Kittu, wherever you are right now, I forgive you with all my heart.

p.s. Akshay Kumar plays a very unique mutant in the movie. His body produces vests. Watch closely as Shilpa dances around him. He takes off his shirt, then the vest. Shilpa hangs on a semi-naked Akshay like a monkey on a branch of a tree. Then he wears his shirt again (no vest this time). After some time, he takes off his shirt again (!!!), and viola! He is wearing a vest beneath it. So there. Mutant theory hence proved.

Excerpts from Sambha’s diary – I

Sambha perched on his rock

12 June, 1975

Dear Diary,

I have never liked Gabbar. He is filthy, does not brush his teeth and scares the bejesus out of me with his ridiculous laughter. There are times when I almost fall off the rock I sit on because he scares the shit out of me by laughing at such inappropriate times. I do not know why he has perched me on the highest rock overlooking the road to the village. Even if the police comes, they will blow the siren so loudly that it will wake up the dead. So what is the point? I feel like an idiot sitting on my ass and cleaning my rifle all day.

15 June, 1975

Dear Diary,

I do not remember the last time Gabbar cleaned his shirt. I can tell from a mile that he is approaching because of the stench that precedes him. I sometimes wonder why he needs a gang at all. He can just walk into Ramgarh and half the cattle will die instantly by the poisonous gases coming out of him and the villagers will give him anything to save the rest of the cattle. His horse goes crazy when he approaches to sit on him. The poor animal might jump off a cliff with Gabbar to finish this torture once and for all.

I wish we had perfumes and deodorants here. Even the trees are dying of suffocation.

18 June, 1975

Dear Diary,

We collected food from Ramgarh yesterday. Thakur did all his usual hanky-panky but no one cared. He is such a sorry figure ever since Gabbar chopped off his hands like carrots. Gabbar did that so neatly that I am sure there is a chef lurking in that lice infected head of his. And Thakur really needs to get loose Kurtas. *I know we are in a movie and his hands are actually not cut but he wears such skin tight kurtas that I can see his hands bulging out.*

22 June, 1975

Dear Diary,

We were so bored today. I climbed up on my rock, cleaned it with water and sat there like a hen on an enormous egg. It was very hot. Then Gabbar called me down and asked me to kill the lice in his head. So we sat like two monkeys while I plucked out and killed 46 lice from his head. Can you bloody believe that? The guy is a walking lice planet. I really wish he shaves off his beard before the lice migrate there and I kill him with my own hands. And thankfully, he took a bath yesterday after three months. That is how I am alive and writing my diary.

Gabbar was amused when I showed him all the 46 dead bodies

29 June, 1975

Dear Diary,

I can never understand why we do not have women in our camp. Dacoits in all other movies abduct and rape women but Gabbar makes us behave as if we have taken an oath to die virgins. Sometimes I feel really lonely when I see so many ugly men around me. I will wait for a good opportunity and request Gabbar to hire Helen to do a dance number for us.

1 July, 1975

Dear Diary,

One of the perks of sitting on the highest rock is that you can pee where you are sitting and no one will notice. The liquid will silently slide down the rock like a tributary into a bush. Gabbar called a meeting today. He had his belt in his hand which basically means – I will holler and you will listen. There are rumors of Thakur hiring two men to kill Gabbar. He laughed out so loud that one of the rocks cracked and fell off. One of my eardrums went numb. He has asked us to keep an eye on Ramgarh and to make a point of his notoriety, he asked me for the nth time in front of the whole gang – Arrreeee O Sambha, Kitna inaam rekhe hain sarkaar hum pe? (How much is the cash prize on my head?)

‘Pure pachhhas hajar (50,000 Rs completely),’ I replied, as if the asho*e is going to remember it. He is such a drama queen.

10 July, 1975

Dear Diary,

Today Kalia and two more comrades from the gang went to Ramgarh to collect more grains. They came back empty handed and told Gabbar that Thakur has sent a message that – Ramgarh waalon ne paagal kutton ke saamne roti daalna band kar diya hai (The people of Ramgarh have stopped providing chapaties to mad dogs). Gabbar was so angry that he was frothing at his mouth. He called Kalia – Suuar ke Bacche (Son of Pig), which really confused Kalia because he was now not sure whether he was supposed to be a dog or a pig. Then the drama queen went through all that stage act of – Kitne aadmi the (How many men were there) and all that crap and then a game with bullets and guns. I have seen this happen before so I was yawning by the time he killed all three of them.

Kalia’s soul must be really happy because he told me two day ago that he was really frustrated with the way things stood in our gang. He was assigned to dig potty pits and all such dirty work and Gabbar was not rotating him with someone else. Gabbar completely lacks managerial skills.

15 July, 1975

Dear Diary,

Gabbar says we are going to attack Ramgarh on Holi. I am happy not because we will finally get some exercise but because the villagers might throw some water at him. He is stinking again. I am happy with the exercise bit too because my arse is so hard sitting on that rock all day that I cracked open walnuts by hitting them on my butt today.

To be continued….

[images from 1,2]

We like our virgins

Bhool of a Virgin

While flipping channels, I came across a hair dyed (probably Black Rose Kaali Mehndi), 61 years old Rajnikant romancing Aishwarya Rai. Now imagine Aishwarya at the age of 61, wearing a gorgeous black wig and kilos of makeup, romancing Hrithik Roshan’s son in a movie. Imagine the jolt it will send through the Indian citizens who will then talk about umar ka lihaz (respect for one’s age) and about the effect this sinful on-screen romance will have on Ash’s family and our Nirma white society.

Of course, it isn’t going to happen because this is not America and we have high moral and cultural standards before 6 pm when there is still sunlight.

Of course, Rajnikant has a daughter too but isn’t it simulating to watch old balding, dyed heroes with younger, virgin (or virgin looking) actresses? It gives a lot of men what they truly desire. Dreams, hope and erections. Not in that particular order.

The point being that the only asset that an Indian actress should possess to arouse the Indian male and the box-office is that she should be a Kacchi Kali (Raw Bloom).

Let me share a secret with you. We men love to put up posters of actresses (recently replaced by wallpapers on desktops for middle class onwards) in our bedroom and kiss them goodbye every night, sometimes very passionately. We do a lot of Hiiiii-uffffff-taubaaaa staring at those wallpapers. We also have seductive and gyratory pictures of actresses tucked away under our bed to pass our lonely times. Their parted red lips, hint of bosoms and legs, the hourglass figure at display are our true companions in nights of despair. The rule of thumb (unless we have a fetish for married women) is that we do this only with actresses who are still untouched by any other man. Any actress who gets married is like a Paraya Maal (someone else’s goods) to us. We are very cultured and we do not look at someone else’s women with galat nigaah (wrong eyes), unless we are in a group, completely drunk, have a car at our disposal and know of a desolate place nearby.

We like our actresses to be virgins and unmarried because without that, feel nahi aati (feel doesn’t come). What is the point of imagining yourself hugging an actress like a snake hugging Chandan ka tree if she is committed to someone else? In Om Shanti Om, the villain kills his wife (who is a popular actress) after she threatens to reveal the dirty secret of their marriage and her pregnancy to the world. This should have shattered the villain’s plan of featuring the (supposedly) virgin actress in a big budget movie. He then burns her up with the sets. He commits this sacrifice to earn money by providing what the Indian male wants – an unchui kaatil jawani (untouched killer youth).

No wonder that the moment an actress gets married, she is not hot anymore. Getting married is the last thing on the minds of our virgin raatoon ki raanis (queens of nights) too because that would be the end of their career. We will throw them out. We will shed a few tears and label them someone’s ghar ki laaj (house’s honour). Imagine Katreena Kaif, married and having a year old kid in real life and dancing to Chikni Chameli. Ufff, what horror, no? Imagine Kareena dancing to ‘Halkat jawani’ after she gets married. Just like thanda (cold) tea! It’s not as if actresses have not tried it. Post marriage and two sons, Madhuri moved her torso in Aaja Nachle like a building in an 8.3 magnitude earthquake. Somehow the audience could not get the point. They were too confused to react.    

And remember Rekha rolling in mud with Akshay Kumar and hanging from the hair on his chest and singing ‘In the night, no control’? The audience lapped it up with a faint hope of her unblemished everlasting virginity.

Kajol was an exception but somehow we believe she a) did not do enough item numbers to titillate the Indian male b) had a square jaw c) had the gait of Marlon Brando.

Our legendary directors have banked so heavily on this obsession of us men that ever since we attained independence, they have churned out hit movies and songs glorifying the kamsin (God knows what this bloody word means), nadaan (naive), nazuk (soft) leading ladies who shudder at every touch of our hero, who dare not commit a bhool (sex sin) amidst heavy rain and lightning and even if they did, they would repent it for the rest of their kati patang-ish (cut kite-ish) life. This has been petrol on the fires that burn in the hearts of us men. We have also picked up details from our movies like eve-teasers always get the girls in the end but let’s not go there.

We, the Indian the men, know that we are never going to meet the virginal females who appear on a two-dimensional screen but they ignite enough desires in us to manifest our fantasies in real life. Stop any guy on the road and ask him whether he wants a wife who is a virgin and pat comes the reply – Of course! What a ridiculous question! My heart has always burnt in virginal oils.

What about your sir? Are you a virgin?

No, I had sex with a poster once.

Errr, that doesn’t count.

Ok. I went to a hill-station with friends once. We paid a call girl to go with us.

So, you are not a virgin yourself?

How does that matter?

Well, that is how it has been in our culture-vulture.

That is why all our heroes are married and have kids but an actress waits till her last egg to get married.

That is why female fans are very adjusting. They are fine drooling over balding, middle-aged, father-of-two heroes. They are not seasoned to attach virginity to men. It will be like attaching a sari to Poonam Pandey or an underwear to dirty Harry.

That is why we make sure that the bride is a virgin no matter that the groom has slept with every woman and animal in town.

Yes, we like our virgins. Sunny side up.

[image from 1]

Open letter to the Indian film industry

Dear Indian Film Industry (IFI),

I am writing this letter with a heavy heart. There was a time when I loved you like crazy. Now all I feel is apathy. There are times when you still overwhelm me, but such times are like those solar eclipses. Rare.

IFI,

Consider this scenario – The city is taken over by zombies. They are killing humans and terrifying them. The humans are on the run, stuffing themselves in whatever holes they could find. Over time, the humans create barricades making it more and more difficult for the zombies to find a prey. Then one fine day as the zombies are sitting and twiddling their fingers, a human zombie supporter (who thinks zombies are the messengers of God and sent to make humans pay for their sins) opens up a cinema hall for them. The tickets are sold in minutes. The zombies fill the theatre and guess which movie is playing there?

A Zombie movie!

The zombies watch the movie with enthusiasm and go back out with greater vigour to hunt as many humans as possible. The zombie supporter is happy.

Now replace the zombie with an average perverted Indian male who has a brain development of a two year old Neanderthal and who goes into a theatre to watch an Indian movie where women are either objectified to glory or where Indian culture begins at one end of a sari and ends at the other. The already deranged pervert is deranged further. His misplaced cultural values are further misplaced; his firm belief that women need to be tamed like an animal is further strengthened.

IFI,

What do you think about these scenarios and the impact they leave?

• Rahul and Anjali are college chums. Anjali is tomboyish and so Rahul never loves her but finds another seductive girl. Years later when God plunks the seductive girl off the planet, Rahul and Anjali meet again. Anjali has transformed into a Bhartiya Nari (true blue pastel colours sari woman who loves children). In the end, it takes the flurry of a sari by the pagli pawan (crazy winds) and the accidental display of Anjali’s blouse concealing that part of her anatomy of which Rahul was always unaware of, which makes Rahul discover the Indian woman in her, the woman whom he could love and dance with in rain.
• There have always been Item numbers ever since Helen was discovered with extra long feathers on her head and back but nowadays if you leave all the leading ladies of Bollywood in a room and tell them that one of them will get to perform an item number in Salman Khan’s next movie, you will find loads of organs to be donated in 30 minutes and a majority of them will be eyes. Item numbers are the best way to parade women as objects. The filmmaker makes money and perverts get the kick to go out and fondle a woman after seeing an ‘item’ hanging from a rope amongst a horde of men trying to catch her skirt on the screen.
• Veronica is a bitch. She goes to pubs, have sex with random men but she is lonely and has no good friends. Our Hero flirts with her, beds her and they are cool with their fun relationship. Enters Meera, the perfect Indian woman, and our hero falls in love with her. Girls like Veronica are just there to have fun. When Hero’s Mom arrives, he had to display Meera like a trophy because that is what every Indian mother wants – a daughter-in-law dipped in our creamy culture, ready to be devoured. The Hero wants this too because our rich culture is rooted somewhere deep in his ankle.
• Adding more to Veronica – she goes to pubs and leads her life on her terms. And she is shown in a negative light. The director throws her at the audience like we throw a bone towards a dog and we lap her up. She gives us the psychological nutrition to believe that our culture still shuns girls who ape the west. Remember, we live in a country where we justify molestation of a girl who goes to a pub. In 2012. Veronica had to wear a salwaar-kameez finally in the hope that Maa would accept her. And Oh! it’s all right for our hero to ape the west. He can womanize and drink as much as he wants.
• The actress have to flutter her eyes, bite her lower lip, sway her body, bite her index finger between her teeth and pinch the index finger on her left hand with the thumb and index finger on her right hand when our Hero is around. I understand blushing but this induces nothing but the strongest urge to *face palm*.

I am not entirely blaming our film industry for the way women are treated in our society and for our medieval mindset. That will be like blaming Pranab Mukherjee for replacing Pratibha Patil as the brand ambassador of SOTC. But he did play a part, no matter how minuscule. Our society is heavily influenced by movies and the biggest movie industry in the world should try to find ways to change the mindset of the society, not to make profits out of it. Showing women as ‘items’ and portraying any deviation from an ideal Indian woman as black are subtle dangerous projections which helps in strengthening the way women are treated in India.

It will not be correct to say that the Indian film industry hasn’t changed over the years. There has been a radical change in how we portray women in our movies by giving them positively bold roles instead of asking them to scream as the hero beats the villain to a pulp, all thanks to the new breed of responsible directors. But there is a darker end of the spectrum as well. In a bid to make money, the mainstream cinema has severely started objectifying women with an equal ferocity. The number of item numbers served every year is now more than the number of train accidents that happen in India.

IFI,

In a nation which is as tasteless without its sexually oppressing Patriarchal society as Maggi noodles is without its special masala, is it so hard to understand the repercussions of an actress picking up her sari, doing pelvic thrusts and heaving her breasts simultaneously in front of perverts who then go out and look at every woman in the same light? Who then take every girl who goes to a pub as ‘available’ and someone who will enjoy the touch of any Changu Mangu? Who then go out and search for an ideal virgin Indian woman acceptable to his family, no matter that he lost his own virginity years ago? Is it so difficult to understand that an alarmingly huge population of India is not mentally capable of enjoying such a form of cinematic entertainment without obvious consequences?

No, it is not difficult. You just have to look beyond money.

Crestfallenly yours,

Once a fan.

Vicky Donor – Movie Review

A few days back I posted this on my Facebook wall – “How is one supposed to leave his brain behind while watching a movie? This is one art I have tried to master numerous times and failed miserably.”

Everyone thought I might have seen Housefull 2.

Well, I am glad that I went to see Vicky Donor despite all my apprehensions because I laughed, not because I had paid 200 bucks for the ticket and had no other option. And the feeling was running throughout the crowd sitting with me. Everyone was enjoying the movie as if they were thankful that they were not forcing themselves to laugh. I heard a lot of claps and whistles too which are quite rare nowadays.

The movie tells the story of an unemployed youth Vicky (played by Ayushmann Khurrana) who is chased by doctor Baldev Chaddha (played by Annu Kapoor) who has a fertility clinic and is desperately in need of a super good sperm donor. He accidentally meets Vicky and convinces him to donate his sperms. What happens next and how ironical Vicky’s own life turns out to be is the story.

I have always underlined the fact that the most important actor in a movie is its story. The issues raised in this movie was a serious one. It was about how our society looks down upon sperm donors. How people have misconception about the whole process and what it entails. Even though the topic was a serious one, at no point the movie turns into a documentary. It never misses its funny undertone. Of course there are a few glitches but you won’t get much time to think over them.

There are so many small nuances in a movie which elevates the whole product and this movie is filled with them. The scenes between Vicky’s mother and grandmother are the soul of this movie and extremely hilarious. Annu Kapoor is perfect as Baldev Chaddha and I especially liked the sperm hanging in his car (I am still laughing when I am writing this). Vicky’s love angle played by Yami Gautam brings with her the side-splitting clashes between her Bong family and Vicky’s loud Punjabi family. It’s not only the actors who bring life to the movie but the dialogues too, which set the impeccable mood of the movie.

The movie turns a bit serious in the second half but it doesn’t drag and the climax will touch your heart. Ayushmann and Yami Gautam are consummate performers and are really good, well supported by the rest of the cast.

This was an extremely enjoyable movie for me. And I say this about Bollywood movies as much as you have seen Manmohan Singh open his mouth. Which is not very often. Go and enjoy yourself.

Rating – 4/5

A Mess called Agent Vinod

The first thing that will come to your mind after this movie ends is  – Thank God it’s over!

It’s completely bland. There is a stupid storyline which I vaguely remember as it is completely forgettable. The chemistry between the lead pair is conspicuous by it’s absence. The songs are stupid. There is even a romantic song in which Agent Vinod is killing the goons with the lady by his side. It was truly a WTF moment. The background score is ridiculous. Editing is shoddy.

The story(!) is about a RAW agent who is after this device called 242 and he has no idea what it is. So he hops from country to country, following trails. The trails include Ram Kumar who is an Indian who speaks to Russians in Russian accented English. Why can’t he bloody speak to them in Russian or in normal English? Then there is Prem Chopra, who kills his pet camel inside his own house in his introduction scene. As agent Vinod follows various leads, the country hopping starts to get on your nerves after a while. The agent hopped at least ten countries which left a lot of people confused after a while. Soon, no one (villains and audience alike) had any idea which country he was in.

The only interesting part of the movie were those two aunties who get into the wrong autorikshaw and were tossed through half of Delhi. Many good actors were wasted in small, inconsequential roles. The villain is completely made of wood.

The female lead is so implausible that it’s not funny. She goes ahead and spends one whole night with a bald, fat stranger believing that he would not even touch her and he doesn’t! He spends the whole night dancing with a bottle of something! She visits her home after 15 years and is all tears and sobs and the next moment she is dancing in a marriage with another dancer, who was incidentally rescued by Vinod from a huge jute bag some days back. She was so casual about being kidnapped and kept in a jute bag as if she was born in one. Well its a Bollywood movie!

The action sequences are mediocre. The camera seems to be out of control and is shaking violently as if all the action happened during a 9.6 magnitude earthquake. Some stunts were downright preposterous, like the one in the beginning where Vinod skids while holding the door of a moving Jeep and kills some terrorists.

I wish the last three hours hadn’t happened. I would give anything to someone who could erase the memory of watching this abomination.

Rating – 1.5/5