India South africa test

An Angry Rant about the First Test vs South Africa

Before I begin,

If you do not follow cricket, this post might not be for you. I am sorry; I had resolved to write lesser about cricket, but who can explain to bawra mann? 

Also, if you’re the kind whose general reaction to everything in life is ‘Tu karke dikha’ – kindly stop reading. The only way to go from there is to bang one’s head against the wall.

I cannot play for India. I do not wish to play for India, and even if I did, the closest I could get to the pitch is the cheap tickets in Barabati Stadium. But that does not mean I cannot have an opinion on matters. We are human beings after all, and prone to anger and rants.

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If you looked at the scorecard decades from now, the picture you will get of the Test match is of India folding up in two and a half days to a ferocious South African line-up. However, unlike T20 cricket, Test cricket thrives in between the lines of the scorecard. The intervals between overs, an inspired bowling change that runs through line-ups.

What the scorecard will not show decades later, is that India actually had a chance to win the match. There were a few sessions where you’d assume India was going to win it. When I closed my eyes, I could see Kohli taking off his shirt and dancing to ‘Tenu suit suit karda’, as Shikhar Dhawan does the bhangra next to him (where, unlike while batting, his footwork is impeccable).

While we are on the topic, let us begin at the top of the order.

1. Shikhar Dhawan 

It’s baffling what he’s doing at the crease. He seems woefully out of touch, and to his credit, stuck to his natural game. However, a lot has been said about this ‘playing your natural game’ bullshit; what they don’t tell you is that greatness is about adapting. If playing one’s natural game was such a great trait, Venkatesh Prasad should be among the greatest batsman. The man played his natural game for 15 years – to hold the bat and swing it like a drunk Amazonian Shamans driving away spirits. He was picked over KL Rahul, a player with a decent overseas record, and the next few weeks seem difficult for Gabbar Singh.

 

2. Murali Vijay 

I actually quite like Vijay, simply for the reason that he has the ability to leave balls consistently. Anybody can hit the ball, but to watch the ball leave the bowler’s hand, follow the trajectory, track the lateral movement, judge the bounce, and then let it go – is an intricate skill that requires the practice of a shaolin master and the temperament of a monk.

In this Test however, Murali turned up as Vijay in Puli, slashing at everything outside Off Stump. Even though he will definitely be picked for the Second Test, Murali needs to stop being Vijay and start being Arjun Rampal – wooden.

 

3. Cheteshwar Pujara

Pujara is the last of a generation.

A breed of batsmen who play to save matches. Who will take everything you throw at him, and softly knock them down. Amidst gladiators and butchers, he’s a calligraphy artist sitting under the shade of a mosque. Pujara doesn’t rake in the moolah in T20 leagues, he isn’t seen in ads and interviews. He simply takes guard and leaves balls.

Pujara couldn’t build on solid starts in the first Test. And even when he does, he takes as much time as Shah Jahan took to build the Taj. Pujara needs to step up, as he’ll be our mainstay Test batsman in the grueling tours to England and Australia.

 

4. Virat Kohli 

Since becoming the Captain, Virat Kohli has been going through a beautiful, psychedelic purple patch. Centuries, double-centuries, interviews with Gaurav Kapur that show his softer side – it was all going smooth for Cheeku.

But being the captain of the Indian team is the most stressful job in the country. Virat Kohli has to juggle his impeccable form, a team that often turns up like it’s hungover from a Bacherlors’ Party the previous night, and alien conditions.

Kohli looked solid in both the innings. Unlike his other brethren, Kohli didn’t mistake batting for fishing. He was middling the ball well and even counter-attacked the ball in patches.

I know it is easy to comment in hindsight, but Kohli’s choices with the bowling department actually gave us whatever chances we had of winning the match. However, his choices in the batting department seemed like a friendly school captain picking his favorites.

 

5. Rohit Sharma

Mr. Talent.

Mr. Super Talent.

Mr. Super Duper Earth-shattering Orgasm-inducing Talent.

Never wins us matches in difficult conditions.

In spite of all his one-day heroics, I not a huge fan of the Hitman, because pressure gets the better off him. He’s great when the pitch is flat as a highway and India is batting first against West Indies in Haridwar.

But you cannot select a player to an away Test series, based on his One-Day form in Vadodara. It defies all sorts of logic, even that of ‘current form’ that Kohli spoke about after the match. A lot has been said about Sharma’s ‘natural game’, but I think it is more about ‘natural conditions’.

Rahane might not hit the double-hundreds and blow kisses to his wife. He might not be the captain of the richest IPL side. He might not be the sort who appears in ads for children in supermarkets.

But he’s a better Test batsman.

 

6. Hardik Pandya

A dream Test debut, except for the fact that India lost the match in two and a half days.

It is difficult to expect Pandya to apply himself and play the waiting game. Some things just don’t work like that. Can you imagine asking Sehwag to sit with you through a game of Brainvita? He would break the plastic board and shove the marbles up your alimentary canal.

It is the same with Pandya. His contribution with the bat at the lower order is extremely important, and could change matches. In fact, the only time South Africa looked vulnerable in the match was when he was on song.

Sure call-in for the next Test.

 

7. Wriddhiman Saha 

Adbhut, adamya. Saahas ki pari-bhaasa hai
Ye mitati maanavta ki aasha hai
Foreign pitches pe, yeh magician hai
Ye insaan nahi nahi hai ye avtar hai
Wriddhiman…Wriddhiman…WRIDDHIMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNN

(Wriddhi Wriddhi Wriddhimaan…Wriddhi Wriddhi Wriddhimaan).

Wriddhiman is a strange creature. The face of a horse, the temperament of an elephant, the batting skills of an orangutan. Wriddhiman Saha displayed all the composure of a newly-married man in his in-laws house for the first time.

He flashed at balls that he thought he could smash. He blocked balls that turned their face away like a miffed girlfriend. He poked at balls that turned and zipped. He did whatever the fuck he wanted.

He is a good keeper, but his batting is the stuff of art. I wish he remains in the team just so I can see him bat. It’s cathartic and self-harming at the same time. Like Main Hoon Indra the Tiger on Zee Cinema at 11:30 in the night.

 

8. R. Ashwin 

Another bowler who is Aamir Khan on home pitches, but quickly transforms to Kamaal Khan on away pitches. R. Ashwin however, brings in a lot more than his bowling – his calm, zen-like batting. His technique seemed stronger than anybody else’s in the team. And it isn’t even his main skill.

In fact, I wonder what could be the main skill of a spinner on fast, bouncy South African pitches? Ashwin will continue to remain in the team, and should look to quickly go through the overs and remember that life is an interval between pain and pleasure. That he needs to grin and bear it and see out 2018, and Srini Mama will organise four tournaments with Zimbabwe and Gwalior.

 

9. Bhuvneshwar Kumar 

The only potential match-winner in the team, it is hard to dislike Bhuvi.

He bats like his life depends on it. He swings the ball both ways. And is probably the first Indian pacer to add a few yards of pace to his bowling without losing his ability to swing the ball.

Unlike the batsmen of the team who are all bravado and Chak De and moustache-twirling, thigh-slapping mushtande, I like how the bowlers in the Indian team carry themselves. They are quiet, unassuming, and go about their job without any hungama. In their company, even Pandya looks like he’s read a few Paulo Coelho books to keep up.

 

10. Mohammed Shami

I doubt there are any Shami fans in the country. The guy looks like a carpenter you’d call on Urban Clap, has no histrionics to offer, and runs in and bowls fast like a disciplined, hardworking IITian.

In fact, the only times Shami is in the news is when moronic Muslims troll him on Twitter. I wonder if it gets to him. A lackluster test for the man, but still a better bet than Ishant Sharma. Shami has never played for long stretches of time due to injuries, and once shudders at the thought of him being dropped for Ishant Sharma.

Ishant Sharma is only in the team because he doesn’t get injured. And Shami is absent from the team only when injured.

 

11. Jasprit Bumrah 

A surprise package that could be dropped for Umesh Yadav in the second Test, this is Bumrah’s first grueling tour. In the next few months, Jasprit will realise what it means to be an Indian fast bowler.

What it means to be clobbered around by opposition batsmen in spite of the conditions offering pace and bounce. What it means to look around the ground and find none of the other pacers want to have a go.

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While the bowling unit over-performed throughout the Test, India’s batsmen look like they came on a family tour to South Africa that was sponsored by the State Bank of India. Half the batsmen through their wickets away. KL Rahul and Rahane were left out for two swashbuckling batsmen who didn’t really swash their buckles.

The second Test will be the real Test. Questions will be raised. Fingers will be pointed. Blood will be bayed for.

And oh, somebody pointed out that Kohli’s average after marriage is 16.5 !!

queen lisa haydon kangana ranaut

Rani Should Have Ended Up with Vijayalakshmi (And other stray thoughts on the movie ‘Queen)


On January 1st, I vowed not to be a slacker, and to go about doing my work in a timely, hardworking manner.

On January 2nd, I was lying like an endangered polar bear on the couch, watching Queen on television.

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Most films that I enjoy in theatres do not stand up to the challenge of a second viewing, but I found Queen to be utterly watchable. In fact, I enjoyed the film even more on second viewing. Since I knew the general direction of the plot, I started noticing smaller things in the film. Like the bit where Rani removes her sweater and appears to throw it into the crowd, only to stuff it back into her bag. And how, a few seconds later, she takes the waitresses’ fire-helmet, and then promptly puts it back on her head!

Queen was easily the movie of the year. The makers of the film had to tread a very fine line, as there were a number of traps that the films could have fallen into.

Firstly, it ran the risk of resemblance with English Vinglish, which was also about a conservative Indian woman moving to the West for a few days and discovering herself. English Vinglish also had the female lead developing feelings for a white man. Also, both the films featured music by Amit Trivedi too.

Queen also ran the risk of becoming a fluffy, female-transformation films. The ones where two girls – – one modern, the other conservative – meet and become friends. The modern one takes the conservative one shopping, to a parlour. And the conservative girl walks out leaving behind her complexion, upbringing, culture, personality, and older clothes.

The film could have also gone the ‘road movie where character does drugs and discovers her inner self’ sort of a movie. But it steers clear of all those plotholes, charting a course of its own.

The dialogues of the film are spot-on too, thanks largely to some fantastic acting by the others – Rajkumar Rao – who’s a goddamn chameleon – and the rest. Also, Queen will forever be Kangana Ranaut’s finest film. It’s like one of those Sachin innings from the late 90s. Right from the first ball, you know the guy’s in fine form today! Right from the first shot, Kangana knocks it out of the park. It’s the kind of role that, if essayed by a male star, would have been called ‘revolutionary’, and ‘genre-bending’.

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Keeping pseudo-academic analyses aside, there was one lingering thought lurked in my head while I was watching the film.

Rani should have ended up with Vijayalakshmi.

I know it sounds like the rabid fantasy of a college-student, but if you dig deeper, you’ll find that there’s solid reasoning behind my argument.

The two share an oozing chemistry from the moment they set eyes on each other. In spite of being utter contrasts. Their clothes, the lives they lead, their moral compasses, even their acting skills – one actress is playing the role of her lifetime, the other is barely managing to walk across an ice-lake.

In fact, there’s even a moment where the filmmakers (probably) doff their hat to Before Sunrise. After the two get drunk, Rani is babbling about hiccups, when Vijayalakshmi stretches her hand out and touches her cheek.

I don’t mean an overt Haye rabba, Rani! Tune ladki se pyar kar liya sort of a moment. But even a subtle nod would have done. Like the glorious bit in Dedh Ishqiya where the two women express their love for each other using Vishal Bharadwaj’s beautiful brain.

But the modern world wouldn’t allow it. The idea would be bashed for fetishizing gender descriptions in popular culture, and a few debates would rage on the Internet for a few days, before we move on to Taimur Khan breaking the Internet in Papua New Guinea.

Rani and Vijayalakshmi should have ended up together, waving a gigantic Indo-French middle finger at the guy. The two of them would have been happy. Chintu would have been happy. The Universe would have been happy.

*****

Youtube ads

How I inadvertently solved YouTube’s Advertisements Problem

There’s an episode in the British futuristic, dystopian TV series Black Mirror, where people have to exercise to generate electricity and then get to enjoy the ‘merits’ they earn by consuming media.

I feel like that when I’m on YouTube, thanks to YouTube’s advertising policies, easily the worst aspect of Google’s earth-encompassing services. You can’t really get rid of YouTube Ads. Yes, I’ve heard the suggestions – AdBlocker, using a proxy/VPN/Aadhar Card – but there’s really no way out of them.

I had tried all the ghar ke nuskey – only to finally chuck them altogether. There was really no point, and I’d accepted that there will always be annoying ads before I watch a video of my choice.

Till last week.

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I got myself a new laptop – HP Omen i7 because people invariably ask me what model it is – and was installing all the prerequisite apps on it.

I have shifted from Google Chrome to Opera Browser and when I was setting up the browser on my new system, it asked me to choose my Language Settings. I chose English – UK as my default language. The only problem? I was too stoned to realise that I’d chosen ‘Uk’ – ‘Ukraine’. The fine ladies and gentlemen working in Opera and Google took my word for it and since then, I’ve been flooded with ads from Ukraine!

At first, the ads were simply bizzarre. I thought it was a bug in the system, and that it was a one-time occurence. But the ads kept coming, and it took me a few days to realise what had happened.

I began to weave fantastical accounts of life in Ukraine. There were ads for children’s toys that showed a couple humping each other. The ad for an apple juice brand consisted of a zoom-in shot of a sweaty cleavage for ten seconds.

After the first few days, I began to enjoy the ads. They were a welcome change from the clingy Indian ads that beg you not to ‘Skip Ad’. Now, I look forward to seeing ads from Ukraine before my video plays on. It’s like a free upgrade on a service I didn’t even order in the first place.

My curiosity led me to look up the country, and I found a number of mildly interesting facts. Like Ukraine has one of the oldest constitutions in the world. I also learnt that the nation is obsessed with booze and IT – a trait I could connect to as a foster Hyderabadi. I also learnt that Ukrainian women are considered the prettiest in the world, and *surprise surprise* there’s a place called Odessa that houses the prettiest people in the whole world.

I was clearly born in the wrong Odessa, for Odisha has no such history. We are a state that loves to cook food and eat food and sleep in the afternoon for a couple of hours. That’s literally every Odiya person, ever.

 

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I might not have really ‘solved’ the YouTube problem – that might be stretching it. What I managed to do, however, was inadvertently shake off YouTube’s powerful analytics and personalisation tools.

Now, before looking for a YouTube video, I look at the ads that are being shown to me. I haven’t skipped an ad in weeks now, and gleefully watch every single ad that I’m shown. As we speak, I’m being shown an ad for a watch where a young couple (dressed in swimsuits, of course!) meet inside a swimming pool and say something to each other, softly.

I think when India becomes intolerable – as I’m sure it will; considering Aamir Khan has said it would. Aamir Khan can predict the future. During the promotions of Lagaan, he’d said ‘Yeh picture chalegi’, and the film did work. So there!).

So once India becomes too intolerable to live, I will move to Odessa in Ukraine.

And take a walk through their supermarkets too see where the steroids are stocked.

 

*****

Humans-of-Hindutva-Facebook-Image-for-InUth-2

Thank you and Goodbye, Humans of Hindutva

While you were browsing through adorable pictures of Taimur breaking the Internet, one bit of news slipped past the bullshit that we call news in our country.

‘Humans of Hindutva’- a spectacularly funny parody page – has been shut down after the owner received death threats from saffron dicks. It was a sad day for Indian Internet, as Humans of Hindutva was among the few genuinely funny pages on the web.

India achieved tremendous Internet penetration in the last two years, but good humour is hard to find. The most popular humour pages in India copy stuff from other pages (some, without even giving credit). In fact, one of the greatest bonuses of quitting Facebook is not having to deal with those fuck-all pages. All those pages that borrow each other’s content at low interest rates.

In India, nobody wishes to attempt political humour. It is either considered not mainstream enough, or runs the risk of inviting vitriol and anger from trolls on Twitter. AIB is probably the only organisation that indulges in political humour and satire, but it’s only a segment of what they do online.

Which is why it was a relief to find Humans of Hindutva.

As you might have guessed, it was a parody of the mind-bogglingly popular Humans of New York. HONY was a good page when I began following it, but I’ve found that all the goodness on the page makes me throw up a little. Just picture after picture of earnest, wise, honest people made me feel a little claustrophobic.

Like the Scary Movie series, I actually enjoyed the parodies of HONY more than the actual page. There’s Goats of Bangladesh – an absolute favourite – and Cows of Benares. And then, there was Humans of Hindutva.

Idiotic MPs, MLAs, and ministers, statements by journos and Twitter trolls, Narendra Modi to Rahul Gandhi – nobody was spared from the incendiary radar of the page.

humans of hindutva

Humans-of-Hindutva-Facebook-Image-for-InUth-2

The page addressed our new-found lunacy as a nation – where the life of a cow is more precious than a human being’s. The page took on right-wing morons with access to Internet, and showed a beautiful mirror to India, our quirks and many convoluted compulsions. And yet, there wasn’t anything visceral about his posts (I only assume it was a guy who ran the page, but I could be completely wrong, of course!).

The posts were smartly worded and humourous; not the work of a troll. The page wasn’t run to spread hatred, but to mirror the frustration of the daily life of an Indian, sane, youngster. It wasn’t hate that the page propagated, but a wry, dry variant of sarcasm.

Humans of Hindutva shut down its operations after receiving death threats from right-wing extremists. This was the message that he left, while announcing that he was shutting down the page:

I’m quitting out of my own accord. I’ve not been banned or mass reported. I have recently received some threats to my life which I can’t take lightly. I am outnumbered, live in a BJP state and come from a middle-class family with no political or police connections. I have no desire to end up like Gauri Lankesh or Afrazul Khan. Actually, more than myself, I worry for the safety of my family. I hope those who threatened me consider this as a victory and leave us alone. I have deleted the HOH page and will delete this website soon. Congratulations to Hindutva on winning this David vs Goliath fight. As for those who were kind enough to lend me their ears for the last eight months, I’d like to wish you all a Happy New Year. Cheers and alvida. Thanks for giving me some of your time.

 

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This is deeply saddening on two levels.

One, my age-old grudge against a government that associates itself with a religion. It has never worked – in the USA, or Mid-west, or in Pakistan. Religion and governance are two ideas that cannot work together, no matter how special you think your nation is.

Secondly, it dispels the myth of Hindus being tolerant. In the last few years, we have become a clone of the very Islamists that the Hindutva brigade hates. To take down a parody page reflects the weak insecurities in the minds of the people.

As a nation, we do not understand the concepts of humour and sarcasm. For us, humour is the same as mazaak udaana – to humiliate, to insult, to show someone their place. This is probably why there’s no word for sarcasm in Indian languages. May be it is a Western import too, like the Beretta M 1934 Semi-automatic that killed Gandhi.

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Dear admin of Humans of Hindutva, I hope you’re reading this.

It’s easy to preach about integrity and standing up for one’s beliefs. But who would want to go through the kind of fate that Gauri Lankesh went through? But there is a silver lining.

The Internet is a vast, open minefield. And I’m sure you’ll find other spaces to shine, and take on the powers that be.

Thank you for what you had chosen to do. It was a lot of fun following your page!

*****

Breakfast-in-Bed

Start Up Ideas that You Can Use (BUT PLEASE LAUNCH IN HYDERABAD)

Cigarette Delivery App – Paanwala

Cigarettes.

You can’t live with them. You can’t live without them.

The government has been doing its best to get smokers to quit. There are the annoying ads before movies, Rahul Dravid speaking Hindi and sounding like the evil rulers of Lagaan, there are warnings telling people that smoking could lead to cancer, impotency and death. And yet, a smoker will smoke.

However, buying cigarettes is a pain.

In India, we don’t have the culture of buying the entire pack of cigarettes, hence they’re sold loose. Most people who look to quit smoking refrain from buying an entire packet too.

From the seller’s point of view, there’s really no profit in cigarettes. It’s staggering how they even run their business, knowing that a single cigarette offers a margin of a rupee. Which means you have to sell a pack of 10 to make a profit of ten rupees.

How the App works:

There are millions of paan dabbas around the country, in every lane, every street, every locality. You connect the nearest paan dabba to the customer. There’s a minimum order of 100 rupees and every cigarette is sold at a margin of 5 rupees.

It doesn’t require a kitchen, or preparation – or even an outlet. It could be a service than runs 24×7, and the seller could make a profit of 50 rupees per pack – 5 times what he’d make from his shop.

Also, if the shop offers other goods (like cool drinks, glasses, paan, etc.), customers can order those too.

Cigarettes are a necessity in every party, and they always run out – I haven’t attended a single party in my life where there were too many cigarettes. This app will connect smokers to cigarettes and ensure a long and happy smoking relationship between the two.

PS: If you’re making an app for this, please give me credit. Also, please start operations in Hyderabad, in the Madhapur – Gachibowli – Kondapur area.

Thank you.

Jai Hind.

                                     HumsurferA Co-Travelling App

Travel.

Hyped by the rich, fantasised by the middle-class. Unheard of by the poor (except when they migrate for work – which is a beautiful common ground between Tourism and Labour Migration).

With rising disposable incomes, and a population that is mostly young – India will see a huge surge in local tourists travelling around the country (and abroad). While apps like Oyo and MakeMyTrip handle different specific aspects of travel such as hotels and travel – there is one unanswered question in travelling.

We in India do not have a culture of traveling. It is not till recently, when hashtags such as #WanderLust and #TravelIsLife became popular.

However, the biggest pain with traveling is making a plan.

Most often, your partner is busy. Or friends have plans. Or some of you did not get a leave from work. Which results in a million plans going to dust every year.

What the App does:

The app is targeted at people looking for other travellers.

When you register on the app, you get to choose your own requirements:

  1.   Number of people in the group (from 2 to 5)
  2.   Gender of the people (either same gender or the other gender – though I doubt Indian women are dying to invite stranger Indian men to travel with them. But you never know – this app could be revolutionary!)
  3.   Age group of the people you want to travel with
  4.   Destination and dates that you are comfortable traveling between.

The app verifies your profile using a number of profiles – Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn – and you get to choose the people you travel with. You can choose solo travellers, or groups – depending on how comfortable you are with strangers.

What’s in it for app users:

  1.   No jhijhak about traveling. Make a plan – find people travelling to the same place – pack your bags and leave.
  2.   Cost savings. Travelling in a group brings down your costs by half (or more!). This is ideal for youngsters/hitchhikers/budget travellers.
  3.   You get to meet new people along a journey and make friends.

I still don’t know how this can be monetised, as every aspect of the travel can be planned and customised according to the needs of the people traveling. But also, does every app need to be monetised? I mean, is earning money the sole purpose of every single endeavour in our lives?

I still haven’t been able to figure out the answer to this question!

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So there you have it, reader. Go ahead, make in India. Bake in India. Rake in India.

I am quit shit at running my own life, leave alone a start up. The only time I had tried one, we wound up in a month because we were both stoners who decided to get stoned with our customers and suppliers. Sometimes, at the same time.

But life is a constant stream of learnings, and through the experience I learnt that one must never get stoned with one’s customers and suppliers. However, the incident has kept me away from the Start Up Revolution, and hence I have decided to pass on the baton to the next generation.

Jai Hind. Jai Yugoslovakia. Jai Shree Allah.

*****

Suggested Reading: Why I Had to Shut Down my Start Up – By Hriday Ranjan. Start-Up Enthusiast. Venture Socialist. Devil Investor.

2017 media

The Most Annoying Media Stories of 2017

As a writer and journalist, I get pissed off when I hear terms like ‘Presstitude’ or ‘Paid Media’.

Not because I’m touchy about my field or such grand principles. But because these are lazy terms that put a cold blanket over the many earnest journalists, vernacular news agencies, and independent organisations.

Crib all you want, but the media in India has had a large role in weaving the fabric of our nation. In fact, in Shashi Tharoor’s brilliantly imagined The Great Indian Novel, where he fuses the Mahabharata with the Indian Freedom Struggle – Indira Gandhi is re-imagined as Duryodhana, the Emergency is the Kurukshetra war, and Indian media is Arjuna.

For every large media house that was created by leftover sperms from Mukesh Ambani, there are hundreds of independent media houses that strive to survive and bring out the truth. That strive to take on the powers that be, that lose lives and jobs in the process.

And yet, I can’t deny that the popular media houses in India drive me to insanity. In fact, it has reached such a level that I have stopped reading the newspapers, and deactivated my Facebook account. I follow the news on reddit (even though it has its biases), or the updates that Google provides on Google Now.

I passed out of my Journalism Masters in 2012. One of the assignments we were given was to track two newspapers for a week, and analyse the coverage of the news. I still have my assignments in my mailbox and even a few years ago, there wasn’t as much fluff in our newspapers.

As the nation jumped onto the smartphone bandwagon and Facebook/Twitter became a legitimate source of news. Ever since, there has been no barrier, no check on the floodgates. We have reached a stage in our consumption of news that a brawl between two actors grabbed more eyeballs than children dying in a hospital.

Here are the most annoying news stories of 2016, covered with aplomb by our media houses.

 

1. The Padmavati Controversy

It’s funny that the present government projected itself as pro-youth, pro-development – and yet it has failed to curb in death threats by parties affiliated to them. Every leader worth his saffron shawl began throwing death threats at the filmmaker.

What is absurd is that the controversy could have been nipped in the bud if it wasn’t awarded the kind of coverage it attained. But we know that anything pertaining to Bollywood in India is news-fodder. And the citizens are cows that will chew upon it, ruminate, and bring it out in a few days even though they haven’t fully digested what was served to them.

The Padmavati controversy is absurd on three basic levels – 1. Nobody has even seen the goddamned movie. So, nobody really knows what the film shows. How can you be offended by something that you haven’t seen?  It’s like me getting offended by Siddharth Malhotra’s acting skills – there aren’t any to begin with!

The second reason is that the filmmaker has clearly stated that the two leads don’t meet in the movie. They have no lines together, not even a single scene. Is it the idea that the evil emperor thought about the queen that offends these morons?

The third and most tragic reason is that Padmavati is not even a real person! There is no substantial proof of there being a queen like this. All the accounts of the queen are from poems and folklore. What next? We have protests for Tenali Raman and Santa-Banta?

What is tragic is that the government sat like a limp duck as the controversy raged on. Not one of our esteemed leaders bothered to assuage the fears of the filmmaker. Death threats, violence, vandalism – not a single arrest was made, nobody was held accountable.

And the media had a field day!

 

2. The Government’s Masturbatory Propaganda

2017 was filled with news and articles on how terrific GST was, on the numerous benefits of Demonetisation. And guess who the source was? The government itself!

Every single report that came from outside the country about demonetisation brought with it some criticism – ranging from mild to intense. And yet the government went on telling us how awesome its policies were.

This reminded me of all those ‘Khaana Khazana’ shows on television. Where Sanjeev Kapoor cooks up a dish, adds namak swaad anusaar, and then tastes the dish himself. Wah! Mazaa aagaya, Sanjeev Kapoor would exclaim, about his own dish.

 

3. Kangana Ranaut – Hrithik Roshan

It started as a kitchen fight, and become a national obsession. This was a topic that made me ashamed to be a journalist.

For more than a month, every single media house in the country went about publishing sordid details of the fight between Hrithik and Kangana. Open letters and closed mails, fan clubs and Twitter trends – you’d imagine for a moment that India had solved all its problems and had nothing else to worry about.

What was even more shocking was that the entire issue was given slants of feminism.

 

4. Taimur breaking the Internet

Among last year’s useless controversies was the naming of Taimur. If Taimur the name should be avoided because the man was violent, so should Ashok and Parshuram.

This year, our media decided to splash us with images of Taimur breaking the Internet. The kid has broken the Internet so many times, you’d need Dr. Fixit to fix the Internet. At an age when he should be breaking toys and cutlery, the kid has been under constant media scrutiny. I fail to wrap my head around the obsession with star-kids in our country.

And don’t even get me started on the ‘hot’ pictures of teenage kids of stars. The abysmal lows that our media would stoop down to for a few extra clicks is truly depressing.

 

5. Varun Pruthi

This was not really covered by the media, but I need to get this off my chest.

Fuck Varun Pruthi.

The guy makes emotionally exploitative videos involving beggars, street vendors and children, and every single video has a single theme – Varun Pruthi the Jesus Christ. I clicked on one video by mistake and my YouTube page has been flooded with his shitty good-samaritan videos.

I find his videos cancerously preachy. And I fail to understand how the fuck somebody’s life is going to change if you give him 2,000 rupees! Varun Pruthi milks poor people’s sorrow to earn money on his YouTube channel. And what he promotes is not charity or service, but a new-age tokenism that is tailor-made for views, clicks and shares.

I want to watch a video where he takes a man suffering from AIDS and cure him of the disease. Or one where he solves the Iraq crisis by wearing a burkha. Fuck Varun Pruthi! Seriously!!

*

As for me, the year has been lackluster at best. If you’re a subscriber of my blog, I’d like to apologise for my erratic posts. I got caught up with matters of the heart, and gave classic step-motherly treatment to my blog.

Also, I’m tired of writing posts on Bollywood films and stars. The Saif Ali Khan blog went viral and I ended up receiving a ton of hate mail from fans of Saif Ali Khan. Ek toh I didn’t know he had so many fans to begin with. And fans so passionate that they’d write hate mails to support their useless fucking star.

Most of my blogs are just rants that I type out after getting drunk and stoned. There is not journalistic depth in my rants, nor is there any valid point (except in odes to Jackie Shroff, of course!).

*

As the last day of the year comes to an end, I am sitting in balcony and smoking a joint, reflecting on the year that whizzes past me with alarming speed. I am too old and unwise to resort to New Year Resolutions, having broken each and every resolution I chose for myself.

After years of pressure, I go back to some realistic new year resolutions this year. They are:

  1. I shall not murder anybody in 2018.
  2. I shall not win the Australian Open in 2018.
  3. I shall not masturbate to Sharad Pawar.

On Wednesdays.

Happy New Year. And thank you for reading my blog. I go on and on about myself without thanking you, dear reader! You are the reason these rants and rambles exist. Have a great year ahead! 🙂

*****

Tiger Zinda Hai

This Tiger Needs to be Endangered.

We Indians have a knack for knock-offs.

The heroes of our start-up revolution are essentially knock-offs of international giants – Flipkart, Ola and Campa Cola. Our films aren’t too different either. We like our own knock-offs of international heroes.

Which is why projects such as Tiger Zinda Hai get bankrolled. In the film, Bhai is Indiana Jones cum James Bond zyada Jason Bourne. Tiger Zinda Hai is yet another film made with a process to target a specific audience – Bhai’s fans.

Whatever their quality, Salman Khan’s films possess a truly unique quality. They are a throwback to unabashed fandom. To a time when you hooted and whooped and whistled when your star came on screen. Salman Khan is able to bring out single-screen reactions from a multiplex audience. It is a strange sight, one that I realised I’d secretly missed.

Bhai’s films are essentially college plays. Where the most popular, most-loved dude of the college plays the lead. What he does, and the story – are secondary to their best friend mouthing his lines and playing the role.

*

If this were an article on The New Yorker, the Editor would have rejected it without a second thought. Ethically, I’m not qualified to write a review, as I was asleep for about an hour of the film’s runtime.

I’m not saying the film was solely responsible. I had spent the entire day chilling, and as Chunkey Pandey will tell you, chilling can get tiring too. I walked from Gachibowli to Indiranagar to eat keema pav. And then a friend graciously agreed to share some herb, and I walked into the hall happy and stuffed.

But the film played a substantial role in me falling asleep. Salman Khan’s movies might be a lot of things, but surprising is not one of them. You know that Salman Khan will charm his way into the heroine’s heart. You know that Bhai will win in the end, no matter how complicated or powerful the enemy is. Bhai will defeat entire armies with Katrina Kaif on his side. He can solve corruption by introducing some sort of 3-member Amway membership. Solve global warming while having sex with a polar bear.

I find that kind of predictability boring. But like all pieces of art, Bhai’s films are subjective and dopey.

*

Having dealt with the problem of Pakistani terrorism in the earlier episode of Strangest Things, Bhai is now happily married in a secluded European country and has a son. Like all Bollywood children, this kid is so sweet that you want to strangle him. Kids in Bollywood are wise beyond Yoda’s ears, dish out life-advice on love and belonging to their parents, and exist in a permanent limbo of cuteness. Their primary reason for living is to invoke giggles from the audience in their attempt to make the hero appear wholesome.

Bhai is going about his daily life fighting wolves and chopping wood outside his house, when he gets a call from RAW – Bhai needs to save the day. The only problem? Bhai doesn’t look like a top military agent anymore. He looks like the marwari businessman who owns the sweet-shop down the lane.

Bhai used to be fit at one point.

Salman Khan’s contribution to Indian cinema might not be of the cinematic nature. But if there’s one thing he has contributed to, it is in drawing attention to the fact that our heroes need to look fit. Before Bhai came on to the scene, it was okay to be frail and limp. Like Dev Anand, who like the answer, was always blowing in the wind.

Bhai in a still from the 1998 superhit - 'Body banaaya toh Acting Karna Kya?'

Bhai in a still from the 1998 superhit – ‘Body banaaya toh Acting Kya?’

At one point, the whole purpose of Bhai’s films was to show off his body. It was one of the primary tasks of filmmaking – Director, Producer, Cinematographer, Salmanbodyshower. But abhi Bhai ka paet nikal gaya hai. Also, he hasn’t wielded a gun for eight years, and has computers at home that track every single development taking place in RAW. Instead of being tried for espionage, his senior dismisses it with a pat on the back. Bhai smiles. RAW ne mujhe bhula diya, par main unhein bhoola nahi. The director comes in his pants.

This is a secret agent who is called ‘Tiger’ by everybody around him. His boss, his wife, his son. Even the friendly neighbourhood tigers call him tiger. He eats Tiger biscuits and applies Tiger Balm.

His team consists of Angad Bedi, who when he delivers a dialogue – is scarier than ISIS terrorists. There’s a hacker who uploads a virus using a program that says ‘Uploading Virus’ in big, green letters. After uploading the virus, he says ‘Yayyyy! Ho gaya!’ and pumps his fists. The secret code used by RAW is – hold your breath – ‘Tu tu tu…tu tu taara. Aa gaya dost humaara’. Right below ‘Dulhan ki bidaai ka waqt ho gaya’.  The villain of the film looks like the illegitimate child of Osama and Gaddafi. He speaks Hindi in a manner that could bring about Javed Akhtar’s early demise.

Be that as it may, the RAW likes its agents raw, and hire him to get back into action. The enemy is bigger this time. How big? Well, think of the biggest terrorist organisation in the world. ISIS, you say? Done!

Bhai enters the most dreaded terror organisation with a few friends and agents. His plan is to blow up the place, kill the leader of the organisation, bring a group of Indian and Pakistani nurses to safety. And show body.

What follows is truly mind-blowing. Bhai smiles and simpers his way to the desert to take on the most dreaded terror organisation. With tactical missiles and weaponry, through intricate search and rescue operations? Nope.

By using neend ki dawayi and paet kharaab hone ka dawa.

Yes, dear brothers and sisters. Film is stranger than truth is stranger than fiction.

Mind you, this is the most dreaded terror organisation in the world. These are the dudes who assembled a team of fearless fighters from across the globe,set up a state-nation of their own, and even produced nuclear missiles. But in their quest for perfection, the insipid fools had overlooked the disastrous effects of paet ka dard.

Many years ago, Gandhi countered the might of the largest army in the world using non-violence. Much like Bapu, the Brother of the Nation goes about his mission armed with Angad Bedi and Dabur Hajmola.

He also rides a horse and fires a rocket. While riding the horse. He shuts down a rabid wolf by saying ‘Sshhh. Bas. Bahut ho gaya’. And the wolf falls asleep.

You know a film well and truly sucks donkey-balls when Katrina Kaif is the best actor in it. In spite of her Neptunian accent, she manages to look like the only professional in this film (apart from the VFX guys who created Bhai’s abs, of course – those guys worked extremely hard in every film!).

*

By the end of the film, the enemy has been vanquished, and Aman ki Asha has also been restored. Having killed two blackbucks with one stone, Bhai returns home, ready to be called for the next mission.

I’m told in the next film, Bhai will solve climate change by masturbating in the Great Barrier Reef. Or he could solve water scarcity in Mars. Mangalyaan se aage Mangal hai.

It’s a good thing that ISIS has been defeated by the Iraqi forces. That they will not be able to watch Tiger Zinda Hai. For even terrorists are human beings, and can only tolerate so much humiliation.

Bhai is bhai, man. Critics and reviews and dopehead bloggers don’t make a difference. Go ahead and watch the film if you have to. Or don’t if you don’t want to. Bhai is sniffling and grimacing and grinning his way to the bank.

Oh, wait. It’s his driver.

*****

chetan-bhagat759

The Hatred for Chetan Bhagat in India

I’ll admit I have hated Chetan Bhagat ever since he chose to become the voice of the generation.

I have lambasted him on my blog a number of times (back in the days when I would wake up in the morning, smoke a joint and shoot off blogs). I hated his annoying, all-knowing attitude, his IIT-IIM White-Lightning face, and his knack of reducing the complex problems of the nation into simplistic solutions reminiscent of Govinda-Kader Khan movies.

And yet, my hatred for him is his annoying public persona, his elevation to some sort of public intellectual on the basis of his novels. Over the years however, I have softened towards the man.

Primarily because in the years since, I have been a struggling author myself. Every year for the last three years, I do acid in the month of January and plan out the book for that year. I spend the next 11 months toiling and wrestling and struggling with that book. I then send it out to publishers in December and get rejected – year after year, every year.

So I get the pain. I don’t condone Chetan Bhagat’s public persona and opinions, but the utter hatred for the man has baffled me.

*

I have noticed two distinct traits in how we Indians consume art.

1. Overdose: If something works, there are a hundred clones of that genre. Take for example all those authors who wrote books called ‘I had a love story’, ‘You had a love story’, ‘We all had a love story’, Modi had a love story’, ‘Can love happen  twice/thrice/746 times’.

We take a winning formula and churn it out till we are up to it in our necks. That is the

reason why Shah Rukh Khan still plays a lovelorn romantic hero. It is the reason why our singers spend their entire lifetime singing a particular kind of songs. It’s the reason that as a nation (with all our diversity and languages), the only kind of music we have is film music.

2. The phenomenon of ‘too massy’: If something becomes too popular (meaning it seeps past the urban minority and reaches out to Tier-II, III and rural areas), it is considered crass and distasteful. This happened to Govinda’s movies, Comedy Nights with Kapil Sharma, and Reliance Jio.

In a nation that suffers from a crippling inequality of wealth, anything that is consumed by the masses is automatically assumed to be cheap and crass. The same happened to Chetan Bhagat and his books too. Till about 2008, he was being hailed as a game-changer, someone who finally spoke the language of the masses, about issues that a newer India could relate to. But as soon as he become a nation-wide phenomenon, he was deemed too ‘low-market’. 

Most people I meet actually don’t hate him for his opinions, but for his writing.

These are mostly urban, elite, youngsters who were brought up on Hemingway and Prost, and grew up to echo the opinions of everybody else around them. 

I don’t even know where to begin with this argument. Writing, like any other art form, is highly subjective. There’s no real saying about what’s good or bad. Some of the greatest literary epics – from Grapes of Wrath to Moby Dick to A Catcher in the Rye were panned by critics and readers.

This is even shocking in a nation like India where knowledge of English Literature is a direct reflection of the social capital that you enjoy. Your taste in books is ‘better’ because of your upbringing – your parents, school, the company you keep. It does not make you wiser, or more tasteful, it just makes you a privileged fucking snob who chooses to piss over other’s tastes

About 10% of India’s population speak English. Out of those, these people are about 5% – the ones with access to books and literature. And yet, the sheer snobbery when it comes to Bhagat and his books is appalling.

To mock the themes of his books, the idiotic stereotyping is one thing. But to say that the English/grammar in his book ‘sucks’ – I’m sorry – makes you an elite prick.

 

*

Chetan Bhagat might not be a literary force de majeur, but he has encouraged millions of Indians to pick up a book and read for pleasure. Before Bhagat, a book by an Indian author cost above 350 rupees, and a small jar of Amrutanjan Pain Relief Balm.

As someone who mails publishing houses every year with a manuscript idea, I have a fair idea about the industry – a gigantic incestuous family that churns out shit year after year. This is hardly a new phenomenon and legendary Indian writers have had a problem with this hackneyed Indian publishing industry that is reeling from a 70 year colonial hangover. Manto had his own share of problems, as did RK Narayan – who self-published his books after years of frustration.

Indian publishing houses put the ‘prof’ in ‘unprofessional’. There are no prompt responses, no acknowledgment of acceptance. You are supposed to shoot in a mail and wait in the darkness for months at end. Try getting a phone number and pinging/calling (something that would be considered alright in any other industry) is looked down upon.

And in spite of all this attitude, the kind of books that are published are not worth wiping your shit with. And Chetan Bhagat cracked this market.

Hate him as much as you want, but young India is reading his books. They don’t give two shits about Vikram Seth and his unsuitable balls, or Arundhati Roy cribbing about the state, its mechanisations and the colour of aliens’ underwears.

First generation Indian English speakers are free of the colonial burden of Indian literature and are picking up Chetan Bhagat’s books. His works are accessible, relatable and palatable.

 

*

Which is why I smiled when my Tinder date complained about Chetan Bhagat books. She went on about how she thought he was ‘disgusting’, and wished that Indians would read Neil Gaiman and Murakami instead. Sure thing, Little Princess. I quickly asked for the cheque and looked for the exit.

I assume she thought she was being remarkably different – a cut above the rest. While all she was, was an intellectual five point someone!

*****

 

Suggested Reading:

Forbes’ Article on Chetan Bhagat and his impact on Indian Literature 

 

My own blog where I discuss how Chetan Bhagat’s solutions are reminiscent of David Dhawan-Govinda movies.

New York Times article titled ‘How English Ruined Indian Literature’ – a different perspective on the same issue. (which I thought was rubbish, but I’m trying to be unbiased here! 😀 )

 

project_quotes____troy_ending_by_panca21

Dealing with the Death of a Hero

Over the last month, a number of my heroes have been buried in public consciousness.

It’s a phenomenon that has been in place over the last few decades, but the nature of the Internet has accelerated that process in the last few years. It’s something I like to call ‘Death by Internet’.

Where accusations surface, and articles are put up, hash-tags are created, till the personality eventually apologises for the mistake, and his career comes to a grinding halt in a few hours. It happened to Kevin Spacey, and Woody Allen, and Louis CK.

They were all my heroes. They were all artists who enriched my life in numerous ways, people who I watched and heard and read over and over again. These were people who inspired me to be better at what I was doing. People I looked up to, in a mix of admiration and envy.

*

Kevin Spacey

I had watched a few of his films earlier, but it was during my Masters that I truly discovered the genius of the man. We were assigned a task to watch a film, write about it and give the professor our opinions on a few subjects.

I happened to watch American Beauty and was blown away by the man. As is my habit, I looked him up and started reading about the man. I learnt of the cult status that he enjoyed, and how he kept his private life intensely private. I learnt about how he never gives interviews or appears on social media.

Over the next few years, my admiration for the man only increased. There is something about the way Kevin Spacey essays his characters. Unlike lesser actors *cough cough Aamir Khan cough cough*, he doesn’t need to resort to gimmicks like physical transformation or makeup. His face was a canvas. His eyes were tools.

Kevin Spacey was not an actor. He was a ghost who inhabited the souls of the characters he played. Watch him curb a smile as he is being driven to the field in the climax of Se7en, or the chameleon-like calmness with which he switches in The Usual Suspects. There was something Kevin Spacey did with his self that no other actor managed to do.

And yet, when he was accused of sleeping with young boys, his response was a sheepish, cheap ploy. It was disheartening and unbelievable at the same time; the kind of apology you’d expect from an Arjun Rampal, from a Suneil Shetty.

And yet, he did it. He decided to come out in the open about being gay, hoping to put in a final performance for the world.

I was never an actor, but Kevin Spacey’s films encouraged me to write. They encouraged me to scratch beyond the obvious surface, to explore the darker, sinister side of me.

 

Woody Allen

Even if Woody Allen didn’t make a single movie, his place in popular culture would be cemented simply through his stand-up work. The pioneer of the shy, under-confident, awkward comic – Woody Allen is consistently ranked in the Top 5 lists of the greatest stand up comics of all time.

His movies have made me marvel at the man. Beguilingly simple, and yet disarmingly complex – Woody Allen’s movies were always about two people talking to each other. The settings could be present day Rome, or 19th century Paris – his films were driven not by set-pieces or graphics – they were stories narrated by tormented characters. I spent a good part of the previous month going through his movies, and they never fail to impress me with their brilliance.

And yet, the accusations against him are horrifying. That he would molest a young girl, that he would take pictures of the adopted daughter of the woman he was dating, and then go on to marry her – was this the tormented artist, or a twisted human being?

 

Louis CK

It won’t be far-fetched to say that Louis CK was partly responsible for me becoming a stand up comic. I had participated in a stand up competition and went with a fucking PPT!

A friend of mine pinged me saying he loved the fact that I was doing a Ricky Gervais (I’d no clue who that was!), and that I should start watching Louis CK. The next few weeks were spent in watching his videos on loop.

The manner in which he turned his misery into humour, his demented desires into punchlines – there was a morbid beauty to Louis CK’s work. While most comics adopt the ‘I’m a stud’ persona, he took self-loathing to the level of an art form.

The allegations against Louis CK have been floating around the comedy scene for a long time now. So I wasn’t particularly saddened when he was outed, but it’s heartening to see that his apology was the most honest, the most earnest.

 

Mohammad Azharuddin

I have written about the impact of Azharuddin’s match-fixing scandal on my life earlier.

As a child, you are blind to statistics and logic. You worship people because you heard someone praise them. Mohammad Azharuddin was my first real heartbreak. My family, never one to back off from an opportunity to drill sorrow into my life, taunted me for months about the match-fixing scandal.

I remember weeping in my room. The scandal had shattered my beliefs, broken my heart, and twisted me in ways that are difficult to describe in a blog on a cold winter morning.

*

How does one deal with the death of their hero?

How does one grapple with the fact that the person they worshiped all their lives is a monster? I have spent many a sleepless night pondering about this. I wish I could say that it is easy to separate the art from the artist – but I know that is hardly true!

Has it changed the way I look at these people?

Nope! I still enjoy Woody Allen’s movies, I still marvel at Louis CK’s sets.

Perhaps we are wired to only take the best from the people we love. Woody Allen taught me to stay true to my voice, Louis CK to embrace my demons. Kevin Spacey’s astonishing talent still makes me stare in awe, and Mohammad Azharuddin…fuck that guy! Fucking piece of shit!

*****

 

 

 

Recommended Reading:

Mohammad Azharuddin and the match-fixing scandal

‘The Last Jedi’ is Chandrakanta in Outer Space

When it comes to books and movies, I’m a bit of a cultural parasite. If something is popular, I’ll watch it even if I haven’t been seeped in its cult. On most occasions, this has paid off. I happily dived into the GoT cult, and now spend every single day cursing and blessing George RR Martin. I had read the Harry Potter books because of the hype around them, slowly passing on the virus to my friends like a sexually transmitted disease.

And yet, in spite of all my urges and tendencies, I have never been able to warm up to the Star Wars franchise. I know, I know!

I know that when the films came out, they were revolutionary and cutting-edge. I understand that the films changed the way we look at space films, and created a genre called ‘space opera’. I understand that the film gave us legendary characters like Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia.

And yet, I’m sorry. I have never been able to invest in the series. I have watched all the films in the series, and I have found them tacky. The graphics don’t hold up after all these years (kindly have a look at 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)), and for someone who grew up in India amidst dramatic family sagas, the entire ‘soap opera in space’ doesn’t do it for me.

In spite of this, I have watched the movies. Right from fighting off sleep through the tepid Episodes I, II, III in the 2000s, I have tried my best to invest in the films, and yet, I couldn’t. I understand it isn’t fair to assume that my choice is the definite word on the films. And yet, how can not one of the films impress me? Not one in the list of nine films? Really??

But as humans, we survive on hope. And I decided to go ahead and watch the latest episode of the space opera.

 

*

It was the worst film of the year, and I say this after watching the suicide-inducing Munna Michael and Raabta.

It’s difficult to point out a single flaw in a film that has flaws the size of black holes (I’m trying to use space terms to fit into the gigantic cult that the film commands!). The actors have the screen presence of boiled potatoes. Their lines are delivered like stoned high-schoolers rehearsing for the annual play. The young actors who have been entrusted with carrying the legacy of the movies are (and there’s no nice way to say this) severely incompetent.

In fact, they’re so bad that the film has to fall back on a 66 year old Mark Hamill and a 60 Carrie Fisher to deliver the acting chops. You know an action film is doomed when sexagenarians have more sex-appeal that 20 year olds!

Since the film knows it commands a loyal legion of movies, it gives two shits about logic or common sense. When Leia gets blasted away, she flies for a while in outer space and hops back to life. Clearly, usne script ko mooh mein leia.

The villain of the film is killed abruptly with more than an hour to spare. Two of the characters connect to each other through some sort of tantric-space healing technique.

What annoys me the most is 20 year old Indians claiming to be a die-hard fan of the series. Really? How bad is your Fear Of Missing out?? And can we spend a minute to talk about Chewbacca? How the fuck is that red pubic hair costumed creature supposed to be cute? As if looking at that abomination is not good enough, Disney went ahead and added some cute animals for cheap giggles.

Chewbacca: Putting the 'Chew' in 'Chewtiyapa'.

Chewbacca: Putting the ‘Chew’ in ‘Chewtiyapa’.

*

Out of curiosity, I checked out the reviews of the film and was shocked to found that it has been rated 93% fresh. That shook me a little. Perhaps there was something about the films I didn’t understand. May be my tastes, my cinematic aesthetics weren’t the same as most people in the world.

And yet, this is what I will say. The film is Chandrakanta in outer space. Naugarh-Vijaygarh mein thi takraar…and nobody gives a shit, yaar. If the same film was made in Hindi, it would be lambasted to outer space. But it’s a Hollywood film, so our heads will automatically twist and stuff itself into our asses.

The latest Star Wars movie is a nostalgia whore of a movie that counts on people trying to fit into a cult that was created long before they were born. In many ways, the Star Wars cult like religion.

You try your best to fit in. Logic and reason do not matter. And if you tell people you hated the movie, people will look at you like like there’s something wrong with you.

*****