“I Have Mother!”

Or, as it’s rightly said in Hindi, “Mere paas maa hai!” was, still is and will remain the most famous dialog in Bollywood for the next few decades. The 1975 classic Deewar set new standards in Indian cinema and elevated mortal beings into superstardom. Sadly, the ’70s were all that Bollywood could offer in terms of originality, innovation and pleasure. Apart from the occasional gem, a majority of  the movies made in Bollywood today are worthless pieces of stool.

There is one – just one – formula that all Bollywood movies follow nowadays:

A meets B.

Falls in love with B. 

A thinks life is all roses and unicorns. Sings a song or two. 

But, oh no! What’s this? B is in love with C! How unexpected!

A is shattered. Depressed. Sings a song or two.

C, meanwhile, is a jerk and does something inhuman, untrustworthy. 

B loses faith in C. B is depressed. Blames self for misfortune. Sings a song or two.

A swoops in like a knight in shining armor. Consoles B.

B falls in love with A. All is fine, sing a song or two.

Optional (for violence): C and A have a fight. 

If A and C are men, you have a strong romantic movie filled with songs, drama and action. If A and C are women, you have a spicy, romantic chick flick.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but every one of these so-called ‘new and improved’ movies work on these lines. This is the core formula. The unchanging storyline for any movie worth it’s salt to pass inspection. Package the formula with a college theme, a superhero theme, a gangster theme, and just about any goddamn theme – you get one crappy movie after another.

The Bollywood Crap Factory has been churning out disaster after such disaster for the past twenty-odd years. And it’s amazing how people just fall for it each and every time. Either that, or re-hashing successful old movies with more masala and lesser clothes and disgusting lyrics to excite more hapless people.

Unabashed over-the-top acting with too much drama and too many emotions and too many movements of the eyebrows, relying too much on non-Indian folk to add some elements of ‘variance’ or as the producers like to call it, ‘a global touch’ – these are few of the trends that are bound to backfire and implode sooner or later. Actors who engage in silly publicity stunts, those who sell their souls to be on a reality show and those who sell their bodies to get featured in a newspaper – we have all kinds of lunatics in this business.

I crave for the day this ridiculous trend is overturned for something better. Bollywood needs a face-lift. And soon!

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Bollywood Does it Again

Karan Johar & Tweety Bird: Separated At Birth?Or, more precisely, Karan Johar does it again. He has taken a cliched plot, soon-to-be washed up actors, ridiculously lame jokes and unoriginal catch-phrases from How I Met Your Mother and dished out two-and-a-half hours of pure and unadulterated crap.

He calls this soporific, brain-damaging spiel ‘I Hate Luv Storys’ – a phenomenon that I had the misfortune of watching last night.

Here’s what happens in the 135-minute joy-ride from Hell:

(Relax – ignore the spoilers, you’re not missing anything worthwhile)

There’s this guy, see, who’s disgustingly like Barney Stinson from HIMYM – he’s against the concept of love and he wants to sleep with a new woman each night. He considers the age-old concept of love as lame and does not want any part of it. Ironically, he works as an assistant to a Bollywood movie-director who specializes in just this of crappy movies. So, here ends the interesting part of the movie. Before it begins.

He meets a girl, who falls in love with him. He says he doesn’t want to fall in love. I think he hides the fact that he’s ridiculously and unbelievably gay, but that hasn’t been shown in the movie. He rejects her advances – which is strange, because when he first meets her, all he’s thinking of is how beautiful she is and how he can get into those pants of hers. Anyway, contradicting plot lines are the backbone of this crapoweseome* movie.

And then, as with all the other slipshod Bollywood movies, the hero (or rather, the actor-playing-the-lead-role) realizes that he’s lost his mojo and can’t get it up with any other woman, and all he thinks about is this chick. So, he decides to fall in love lest he spend the rest of his ‘manhood’ making love only to himself and the ever-present girls-gone-wild video that seems to be playing on constant loop in his room. (How bizarre)

He tell her that he loves her and now, its her turn to bitch-slap him and walk away. Aww, the poor sod is all heart-broken and decides to follow the chick all the way to New Zealand, in the hopes of scoring with her. But he realizes that the chick has agreed to marry some other loser named Raj, who wears atrocious shirts that look like something a cat dragged in, pooped on it and dry-humped your neighbor’s barbie doll on. So, our hero (or rather, the loser-who-plays-the-actor-who-plays-the-lead-role) decides to be generous and let her be taken by his nemesis.

And, just when he seems to settle down in his head, resigned to his fate of returning home to live with his insanely liberal mother (who, it seemed, would appreciate the beauty and charisma in anything from a sordid threesome to a full-blown monkey orgy) and marry some girl that she’s chosen for him, fate delivers the knock-out punch – his flight gets delayed and he realizes that he’s not in a Bollywood movie but rather in Paulo Coelho’s Alchemist, interpreting each and every coincident as a ‘sign’ from the ‘ooparwala’.

He runs back to the chick, tells her he loves her, and this time, amazingly, she says yes. Apparently, by this time, she has realized her mistake – she did not want to spend the rest of her life smelling of cat poop.

They hug, they kiss, the movie ends and the audience pukes.

There you have it – fresh from Karan Johar’s box of unbecoming movie ideas that he cooked up while getting drunk with four hot guys from Canberra who took turns in showing him exactly how handsome he is. Well, serves him right. Inox and PVR theaters all over the country are smelling of vomit and they have decided to shut down for a day to clean up the mess, under the pretext of the Bharat Bundh today.

My rating: Minus 34.5 / 10

*Crapowesome: A word that I invented while writing this post. This means an awesome amount of crap filled into a very small space, to the point of overflowing. It’s an adjective.

Hairy Potter And The Chamber Of Cigarettes

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and all names, incidents or places are fictitious. Any resemblance to any persons or characters living, dead or fictional is purely coincidental and no harm is intended to anyone through this story.

Statutory Warning: Cigarette Smoking is injurious to health and will cause smokers to think, look and act like me.

The story so far: Hairy Potter realizes he has been blessed with amazing bladder control! He has an Over-Ambitious Gall Stone in his kidney, that wants to break free! It finally manages to escape! Angry at the surgeon for losing his precious Gall Stone, Hairy Potter goes to the police and asks them to arrest the surgeon. The inspector is secretly working for someone named Lord Wall De Fart, and they both realize that they’ve been searching for the Gall Stone Who Lived, and now they are nearing their quest.

Will Hairy find justice?

Will the Gall Stone see the world?

Who is Wall De Fart and why does he want a Gall Stone?

Read on to find out…

Hairy was dejected. He was extremely depressed because of the way the inspector had treated him. He was sitting at the bar, drowning his sorrows in alcohol, oblivious to the strange stares he got from the other drunkards. Three cases of beer later, he realized that he had to relieve himself. He was startled because it was the first time in almost two weeks that he had had to pee. It was a momentous occasion.

He stumbled his way to the restrooms and in his drunken stupor, entered the ladies’ restroom. He entered a cubicle and parted his hair and started pee’ing. “Oh wow! That feels so good!” he screamed.

*

Photobucket
Image Courtesy: Photobucket

Meanwhile, in the nearby town of Dips-Hit, a cloud of fart mysteriously floated in the corridors of an ancient house and made it’s way to a well-lit room. A strange thing was sitting on the only chair in the room – it was a creature with no body and yet, it had dark brown evil eyes. A bigger cloud of fart was enveloping the creature, and the cloud that had just entered, stood in front of it’s master and said, “I have come, master.”

“What newsssssss?” hissed the fart-cloud-covered creature.

“The Gall Stone is in Sydney…” said the smaller fart cloud.

“Sssssydney?? How did it get there??” screamed the creature.

“I.. I don’t know. I just saw the airline manifests this morning,” said the small fart cloud, covering in fear.

“Hmmm…” said the creature thoughtfully. “Under what name is it traveling?”

“O.A. Gall, your fartness,” said the smaller fart, now a little relaxed as its master’s anger seemed to have ebbed.

“I ssseee. And what about Hairy Potter?” the creature hissed.

“My sources tell me that Hairy Potter is dangerously close to discovering the Chamber of Cigarettes,” said the smaller fart cloud slowly, fearing it’s life now. Its master’s anger was very dangerous.

“Whaaaat!?” screamed the creature as it sprang up the chair. “What nonsense is this?” it said, as a thin, white hand emerged from the cloud, holding a gun. “I’ll shoot you right here if you don’t tell me how this happened. How did Hairy Potter manage to get so close?”

The smaller fart cloud was shivering and crying by now, and in between sniffs, it said, “Please. please don’t kill me, master. One of my sources told me, I swear. It’s true. I don’t know how this happened. Please don’t kill me.”

“Get out,” said the creature quietly. “I have to think.”

*

Half an hour had passed and Hairy was still going strong. He was creating patterns on the wall with his never-ending stream of urine, when finally, the flow reduced intensity and trickled down to a stop.

“Oh wow! Wow! Oh yeah!” he cried in satisfaction. As he reached for the flush handle, his feet hit something strange on the ground. Bending down, he saw a small metal ring with something carved on it. Curious, he picked it up and turned it around. It was a cheap metal ring, which anyone could pick up off the flea markets, but the inscription on the ring was quite stunning – it showed a toilet cubicle much like the one in which he was standing, and the flush handle in the carving had been pushed up, instead of down.

Hairy looked at the ring and then at the flush handle in his own cubicle. “Why not?” he said and pushed the flush handle up, instead of down. He could hear a strange rumbling noise somewhere beneath him and in a few seconds, something strange rose up from inside the commode, from the depths of the ground.

It was a small iron box, about two feet wide and two feet high, standing on a metal pole, with the words, “The Chamber of Cigarettes,” written on them in a nice flowing font. On the side facing Hairy, there was a hole in the center, and by instinct, he put the ring in the hole. It clicked and the box swung open. He looked in and his eyes widened in surprise by what he saw inside.

There were two cigarettes, identical to each other, guarded by a small lizard-like creature. It was a common house lizard and Hairy picked it up by the tail and threw it down the drain. He then picked up the two cigarettes and pocketed one of them and lit the other. It was the best cigarette ever.

*

At this precise moment, the fart-cloud-covered creature let out a horrible scream – a scream of agony, pain and defeat.

“Hairy Potter! I will get you for this! Do not cross Lord Wall De Fart! Hisss!”

*

Totally oblivious to all these happenings, the Over-Ambitious Gall Stone was sitting in a bar in Sydney, munching on peanuts, totally enjoying it’s vacation. Two tables away, watching O.A Gall, sat a small cloud of fart…

[to be continued…]
[Rambodoc and Shefaly win the Secret Hell Smell Award for being the only ones to point out that Gall Stones are not present in kidneys. There is a specific reason why this particular Gall Stone was in the kidney and that will be revealed in later chapters. The Secret Hell Smell Award comprises of a free lunch/dinner in a restaurant of your choice. Congrats!]

Hairy Potter And The Over-Ambitious Gall Stone

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and all names, incidents or places are fictitious. Any resemblance to any persons or characters living, dead or fictional is purely coincidental and no harm is intended to anyone through this story.

toonclub.blogspot.com
Image Courtesy: toonclub.blogspot.com

“I stirred from my sleep at around 8 in the morning. The sun streamed through the window and made my hairy chest glow a brilliant red. I looked around my room and saw bits and pieces of pottery lying as they had been the night before – haphazard and lacking order. My flowing beard got caught in under my feet as I stepped off the bed and I couldn’t prevent my head-long fall. The ground rushed up and I hit my head on the hard red-oxide floor and I passed out.

“When I woke up a little later, I was surprised to find that the fall had driven my brain against the walls of my skull and opened up a new dimension. I was blessed with excellent bladder control. I haven’t pee’d for two week now…”

“Whoa, wait. Hold on a minute!” said the police inspector as he switched off the tape recorder. He looked skeptically at the strange man sitting in front of him – he was covered in hair from top to bottom; hair was flowing from every part of his body, and the inspector wondered if he was wearing any clothes.

“Are you telling me that your beard got caught under your feet?” asked the inspector.

“Yes, it’s true,” said the hairy man. “Please believe me!”

“It’s hard to, but I’ll let you go on, Mr – “

“Potter. Hairy Potter. So, as I was saying, I have excellent bladder control.”

“Ok,” said the inspector. “Where does the Gall Stone come into the picture?” He didn’t sound convinced.

“Ah, the Gall Stone,” said Hairy Potter, and smiled…

In the dark recesses of Hairy’s kidneys, there lived an Over-Ambitious Gall Stone. It wanted to break free from it’s confines and see the world. Unfortunately, Hairy’s bladder movements were punctual and he had an excellent bladder control. For a whole week now, the Gall Stone hadn’t been able to move. Then, it made a drastic decision – it decided to break out of prison.

Bladder control or not, the Over-Ambitious Gall Stone started digging a tunnel in the kidney in order to break free. Hairy realized that he had to go check himself in a hospital to relieve himself of the pain. The doctors decided to operate and remove the Gall Stone.

As soon as the surgeon clutched the Gall Stone in his forceps and brought it out into the open, it screamed out, “I’m Freeeee!” and jumped out and started rolling towards the door. No one could find it anywhere…

“So, I want you to arrest the surgeon for losing my Gall Stone,” said Hairy Potter.

The inspector switched off the tape recorder a second time and placed his hands on the table and leaned forward. He looked at the hairy creature in front of him.

“Sir,” he said. “Do you think I’m fucking insane?”

Hairy was flustered. “Why?”

“Get out before I arrest you for attempted manslaughter!” he said. Hairy jumped up and moved towards the door, feeling scared.

“The toilet’s on your left. Go enjoy yourself,” the inspector called out after Hairy.

After making sure that Hairy had left, the inspector dialed a number.

“Lord Wall ‘de Fart?” he asked.

“Yesss,” the voice hissed.

“I think we may have found it. The Gall Stone Who Lived…”

[to be continued…]

It’s Love, Actually…

After a long, long time, a tag has come my way. Kris Bass, my queerest friend, has tagged me in this very interesting Q&A tag about love, and I will try to answer them here and pass on the tag. Two rules, though:

  • RULE #1 People who have been tagged must write their answers on their blogs and replace any question that they dislike with a new question formulated by themselves.

  • RULE #2 Tag 6 people to do this quiz and they cannot refuse. These people must state who they were tagged by and cannot tag the person whom they were tagged by continue this game by sending it to other people.
  1. If your lover betrayed you, what will your reaction be?
    If I can call someone my ‘lover’, then there has to be enough trust between us to know that we can never betray each other. Else, she’d be just a very close friend. So, unless the question is worded properly, I guess I can’t answer it.
  2. If you can have a dream to come true, what would it be?
    There’s only one woman who dwells in my dreams, and the day she says, “Stop wooing me, Nikhil. Let’s get married!” my dream would’ve come true.
  3. Whose butt would you like to kick?
    Well, I’d make all the politicians of the world bend over and kick them on their butts one-by-one. (What has this got to do with Love, anyway??)
  4. What would you do with a billion dollars?
    Pay off my loans, buy a house by the seaside in Kerala, hire a bunch of actors to act like thugs and ask them to surround my Jodha while she’s walking home, when I appear from nowhere and kick their butts and save her life, hoping that she’ll swoon and fall into my arms.  Then, use the remaining money to live happily with her ever after.
  5. Will you fall in love with your best friend?
    Yes. I already have.
  6. Which is more blessed, loving someone or being loved by someone?
    I think it’s the latter, because knowing that someone loves you and cares for you as much as you love them and care for them, is bliss.
  7. How long do you intend to wait for someone you really love?
    Until I’m either dead or married to someone else, which is pretty much the same thing.
  8. If the person you secretly like is already attached, what would you do?
    I tell her I love her. Everyday. I will prove it to her that no one else in the world can love her the way I will. And I do not love her ‘secretly’.
  9. If you like to act with someone, who will it be? Your gf/bf or an actress/actor?
    I’d like to act in an action scene with SRK and kick him in the balls real hard when no one’s looking.
  10. What takes you down the fastest?
    It’s a tie between a fall down the stairs and an empty wallet.
  11. How would you see yourself in ten years time?
    I don’t know. Honest.
  12. What’s your fear?
    I fear she’ll regret her choice.
  13. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?
    Awesome rockstar, good friend and, according to him,  the craziest guy ever.
  14. Would you rather be single and rich or married but poor?
    If these are my only two choices, I’d say Married and Poor, if and only if I can marry the woman I love. Otherwise, I’d want to single and filthy rich.
  15. What’s the first thing you do when you wake up?
    Say a small prayer. They haven’t been answered yet.
  16. Would you give all in a relationship?
    I’d give more.
  17. If you fall in love with two people simultaneously, who would you pick?
    Hmmm.
  18. Would you forgive and forget no matter how horrible a thing that special someone has done?
    Of course. It is always my fault.
  19. Will you marry me? (Original Question: Do you prefer being single or having a relationship?)
    I’ll let her answer this. 🙂
  20. List 6 people to tag:
    Apar, Deeps, Po, Suda, Vaudevillian, Vimal

Anyone else who want’s to pick up the tag is free to do so. Cheers! 🙂

Image Courtesy: tbch.org

Bollywood: A Cynical Deconstruction :)

Western philosophy has often used architectonic terms—metaphors of base and superstructure, foundations and edifices, and founding moments and founding fathers…

– Of Grammatology, Derrida

Bollywood: Successfully Selling Shit For Almost 100 Years!

The last Bollywood movie I saw was called Sarkar Raj. I saw this in the month of July, and it was a forgettable experience. I broke a self-imposed rule of Bollywood abstinence and watched the movie, shelling out an unbelievable amount of money for the night show. Over time, Bollywood has churned out crap after stinking crap, and I find it amusing (and slightly disturbing) that the industry still exists and is dubbed as the richest film industry in the world.

A few years ago, there was a sudden increase in “item numbers” in Bollywood, a low-budget version of underground soft porn, and this revolution kicked off probably the biggest number of flops ever recorded in any film history. Of course, I wonder where the directors and producers find the time to make these movies while battling plagiarism suits from Hollywood.

“Bollywood’ – the very name is somewhat of a joke. What the fuck does it mean anyway? Dictionary.com told me that “boll” meant the pod of a cotton plant. Apt, don’t you think so? Add to this the miserable Lollywood of South India, and we have a lousy bunch of losers who want to make movies under the garb of originality, creativity and hope! 😀

Coming back to the interesting point of plagiarism, I’m sure one in every three movies have been lifted from their Hollywood counterparts. Isn’t there such a thing like a copyright anymore? I think not. The films themselves are comparable in quality to the dirt in our belly buttons, and very rarely is a movie made that can be watched without cringing. And what’s the deal with the bad spelling, anyway? Kkkkkcompany? Singh is Kinnnng?? Gimme a break! 😀

Put together a bunch of washed-out actors and directors, throw in a round or two of tequila shots, make them believe that they’re Mankind’s last hope and what they come up with is a screenplay like Padmashree Laloo Prasad Yadav! This 3-hour load of fragrant shit was a sensation among the less-sophisticated audience.  😀

Whatever’s been said and done, I know for a fact that it’s going to take something really sensational to make me watch a Bollywood movie again. I’ve had enough of second-rate droll to last me a lifetime. Hollywood has it’s misgivings too. I’ll save my rantings about the world’s second lousiest film industry for a later post. Yeah, I’m not a big movie fan. I like books and plays better! 😀

Image Courtesy: Cartoonsunder30seconds.com

===============================================

Errata: Lollywood is the Pakistani film industry, and not a South Indian one. I sincerely apologize for the mistake.
Kollywood, however, refers to the Kannada film industry in Karnataka! Holy Shit! 😀

===============================================

At Last!

The Dark Knight
Why so frikkin' serious!

At long last, I did it! I finally watched The Dark Knight! 😀

It happened yesterday, when Aparna sent me a message saying, “Hey, I’m going to watch Dark Knight tonight!” and I officially became the only living being alive not having watched the movie. I put a plan in motion at around six o’ clock in the evening and made up my mind that I was going to watch the damn movie no matter what! 😀

I sent my terrorist brother to his friend’s place – a friend who had managed to download the movie through μtorrent – and asked him to burn the movie on a DVD. He was not supposed to return home without the movie. And the kid did not disappoint! He returned around ten in the night and held up the DVD and said, “This is gonna cost you a hundred bucks!”

Are you frikkin nuts? I would’ve gone to the theater if I had to pay so much!” I screamed. I was now eying the DVD like it was ‘my precious’ much like Gollum did in The Lord Of The Rings! 😀

“Ok, I’ll head back to his house and return the DVD, then,” said the terrorist and turned around.

Wait!” I shouted. “Just wait. Can we.. can we negotiate?”

“How’s this for a deal: I’ll give you the DVD and you give me the hundred,” he said and leaned against the wall, as though he had all the time in the world. I fidgeted. I half-considered snatching the DVD from his hand and running to my room, but quickly dismissed the idea because he’s a bit bigger and a lot more stronger than I am, though I hate to admit it, and he’d break down my door and kick my ass if I did that. Oh, he’s broken through a few doors in his time. 😀

So, I said, “Ok, so give me the DVD.”

He looked at me like I was an idiot and said, “Do I look as stupid as you do?”

We needs our precious!
We needs our precious!

“My precious,” I murmured and eyed the DVD through greedy eyes.

“My money,” he said and yawned.

“Ok, ok,” I said and opened my wallet and saw that there was exactly one hundred bucks, including the coins, which themselves added up to thirty bucks! So, I literally cleaned out my wallet and dumped all the money in his huge hands and said, “My precious! We needs our precious!” 😀

He stood there and counted the money carefully and only when he was satisfied the I hadn’t short-changed him, he reluctantly handed over the DVD to me. I snatched at it and held it close to my chest and slunk back to my room, murmuring, “Precious! My precious!”

I plugged in the DVD and sat back, put my feet up on the table and smiled to myself. I was finally going to watch The Dark Knight! After so long, after reading countless reviews in the papers and on blogs, after being ridiculed at work and outside for not having seen the movie, having sat through four weeks of lunch breaks at office, listening to people commenting on the movie and how brilliant it was and how awesome it was and how breath-taking it was and of course, those long accolades hurled at Heath Ledger, Christian Bale and Aaron Eckhart – after all that, I was finally going to watch the movie.

The movie started at 10.33 pm (I made a note of the time) and ended at precisely 12.56 pm and for those 2 hours and 23 minutes, my hand was frozen halfway between the bowl of potato chips and my wide-open mouth.

Ah, heaven! 😀