Tied to the Tricolor

There are days when my patriotism threatens to overwhelm me. I am just so proud of being an Indian that I want to scream from the rooftops in America, “Hello everyone! Do you know the glorious country I come from?” Case in point, today. When I woke up in the morning, made some coffee, sat down with the laptop, started going through news websites one after the other, and came across the detailed reporting in both Indian as well as international media about how the rich culture of the land has been offended by the fact that Richard Gere kissed Shilpa Shetty in an AIDS awareness function in NEW DELHI, the CAPITAL CITY of India. So much so that there have been protests from all over the country, including equally or more emancipated cities such as Mumbai. Americans are, thankfully enough and unlike most Indians, extremely demonstrative with their affection, as I am learning everyday. But that is not the point. The point is that something as trivial as this made people sacrifice their time and energy over things such as burning effigies of both the people in question, of asking them to apologize, and telling the non Indian to leave India and go back to his home. Of course kissing is not part of Indian culture! It’s such a sexual activity! Any kiss any where means getting undressed and jumping into bed! And we of course don’t know anything about those things because in our country, the second most populated country in the world by the way, children are born just by men and women looking into each other’s eyes. There is really no other activity involved! And all this when the same day’s news also includes the nexus between Dadua, the dreaded gangster from Uttar Pradesh, and Mulayam Singh Yadav, one of the most prominent politicians of the country. And the conversion of a thousand Hindus in Orissa to Buddhism because in spite of being Hindus they were denied access to temples in their own region owing to the fact that they were from lower castes.
Uff! My pride in my country knows no bounds today. I might as well tie the tricolor on my head and walk about the campus.
But then again, given today's events in the US, there are several things to be grateful for in India.

The Alive & The Dead

Five hours of non-stop work has given KirrinIsland a new look that has replaced her ghastly pink and white robe. She has been trimmed down, her face cleansed, and then re-made up. She is out to face the world with a more confident stride, or so her creator believes.

Moving on.

Can you please tell me the worst movie you have ever seen? No, seriously. I am doing some research on this topic right now. I have been motivated to do so since I saw Red last week. The one starring Aftab Shivdasani, Celina Jaitley, and Amrita Arora. Why did I watch it? Because sometimes the need to hear Hindi is so great that I succumb to any and every temptation. Anyway, I didn’t start watching the movie with any preconceived notion, I was determined to give its every scene a fair shot at survival.

So Red is a thriller. It was so edge of the seat and unpredictable that while it played, I went and washed my clothes, made some toast, took a ten minute nap, and yet managed to correctly guess who the killer was going to be.
Two things in particular sealed Red’s fate for me:
Firstly, the fact that Celina’s performance is so power packed that she makes Amrita Arora look as magnificent as Shabana Azmi.
Secondly, the imagination and dialogue that has gone into this movie is spectacular. Initially, we see Celine Jaitley as a grieving widow. Her best friend, Amrita Arora, wants to bring her back to normal life, so she does what any well meaning friend would do if you lose a loved one. Amrita calls Celina, who is named Anahita in this masterpiece, and says, “Hi Anahita. Chalo, chalo, aaj raat ko disco mein aa rahi ho na?”
Just the remedy to get over a trauma.