Cocktail ...bitter tale!

Being disappointed with Hindi cinema I had stopped going to the theatre. Then came Cocktail, looking fresh with pretty girls, stunning locations, and well, hummable songs. If you watch the movie from entertainment point of you, you would probably not be disappointed. But it hurts at many other levels.

Veronica (Deepika Padukone) is a 'bad' girl. She drinks, goes to pubs, wears skimpy clothes and sleeps with random men. Her parents have probably abandoned her with oodles of money. She has no purpose in life. Enter Meera (Diana Penty) - a timid girl abandoned by her husband on the streets of London with no where to go. This Salwar Kurta clad damsel meets Veronica in a drug store and accepts her invitation to stay with her.
As fate would have it, they become best friends and Meera shows off her petite figure with much ease. No, she doesn't start drinking and sleeping with random men. Why she didn't take the other 'bad' girl traits from Veronica is a mystery.

Saif plays the charmless casanova. His and Veronica's is the perfect jodi. For kahaani mein twist, Saif tells Meera how she's adorable and how she will meet a man who will never leave her side. And that was it. He becomes a good guy who falls in love with Meera and she reciprocates. This good girl becomes hungry-for-love-backstabbing bitch!
Veronica also realises how her life is vain and how she needs a house and a husband to pamper her. Ok, hungry-for-love-sati-savitri. Meera leaves Saif for her best friend Veronica. Veronica does everything to gain Saif's love. But obviously Saif wants what he cannot have - Meera.

Anyway, the story is not important. I wanted to see a liberated woman, who she is, till the climax of the film. I didn't want her to change for a typical Indian man with double standards. Why is a girl who is 'bold' termed 'bad' and a girl who isn't loyal to her friend termed 'good'? Why are 'shorts' bad and 'salwar kurta' good? If I don't pray, can't cook or can't impress the mother-in-law, I'm not suitable for a boy? Saif's mom Dimple tells Veronica, 'tum ladki achi ho, par kapde bahut chote pehenti ho'. Disgusting!

Bollywood is an important medium of showing the world what India is. Heck, it is an important medium of showing who we are to our own countrymen and mother-in-laws. Indian girls are not who they were 50 years ago. We have changed, for our own good. Clothes and alcohol certainly don't define us. According to the media, we take home the good girls and we play with the bad ones.Why? I don't even think that this is entirely true. We can't blame the Guwahati men if we accept this movie with open arms. Afterall, the girl was drinking and probably not dressed in Salwar Kurta - she was indeed a 'bad' girl. Ofcourse they had no right to judge her and ill-treat her, but it's our moral responsibility to show her the 'right' path.

We need writers, movie makers, journalists, to tell these men how wrong they are. Movies like Cocktail will do no good to our scarred society. For heaven's sake, don't watch it.

The World has ended.

2012 was rightly predicted as the end of the world. Let us not wait for earthquakes or droughts; the end of mankind has already happened. It happened right in front of our eyes, in Guwahati, in full public view, when a mob of 20 molested a girl.

People watched, made videos and looked at the horrendous act in glee. Did you watch the whole thing on TV or researched for it on You Tube? Congratulations, you are one of the reasons mankind has ended. Did you forward the picture of the absconding bastards? No? Well done. You are one of those who would mock the world for its atrocious deeds and do nothing about it.  

I’m not a Hero either. By blogging about it I’m not doing anyone a favour. Being a woman I have been touched by disgusting men. I cried myself to sleep and didn’t do anything about it. I’m sure you or your mother,sister, wife or daughter has been ill-treated in one way or the other. We should have known that  by keeping mum we are preparing for our own doom. We should have judged the end of mankind then. 

If you and me who are not doing enough, the thousands who live in Guwahati sharing a neighbourhood with these men are turning a blind eye, the Police who is not able to catch the culprits with possibly all the clues and the Indian Government who is not taking this matter more seriously than the falling rupee and their candidate for the next, useless, Vice President, then isn’t this the end of Mankind?

I feel so small, so ashamed that I share the air with people who objectify women. I feel ashamed to know that half the population will blame the woman, you know, usne bhi kuch kiya hoga tabhi to uske saath aisa hua. I feel disgraced that people will thrash up a man for accidentally hitting a car but stay put when he touches a woman. I feel sad; deeply disheartened  that the Mankind has ended.

Kick that Butt.

Can you see that smoke oozing out of your mouth?

I can. And I can smell it too. I can even smell the inside of your mouth and can safely say it smells like a pit. Like a pit that has been used by roadside dogs that eat rotten bones because we only give fresh chapati to cows. More on that later.

I can also read the junk that has filled your mind. You’ve tried to quit, I know. You’ve promised many that you will quit. You’ve tried the patch/chewing gum/distraction therapy. But what to do, your life is so stressful that only a bud can light up your life. You’ve not tried hard enough, really, you haven’t.

Your mother/sister/wife/girl friend has been after your life since the day you took a drag the first time. You think you looked cool back then. You know how you look now? Like 10 years older than you ought to. You know how you will look in 10 years? Like a 50 year old.

Now, I’m all for older men. But not who have aged before they should have. You run 10 miles a day and that justifies your intention to kill yourself slowly. Stop kidding yourself. You know about the diseases that are waiting for you with open arms, don’t you? You know about the girl who wouldn’t bother to seal ‘it’ with a kiss because of the awfulness that fills your mouth? And don’t even get me started about the environmental damage that this puff is causing, leave alone the passive threat you are to me and my healthy cells.

I tell you today, it’s now or never. Kick that butt, will you?

Life in the times of IPL

Come IPL and the women start howling. No matter how much we adore the Sachins and Dhonis of the world, it is impossible to tolerate 2 months of continuous cricket. The men tend to be confused as to which team they support. As a result, they watch each and every match. Even if they don't watch, they pretend to be interested! The women have to live with it. You can’t sit in a different room while the television blares out taetaetaetaetae te tain!

Anyway,to survive the trauma here is the list of things that deviated my mind when I didn’t care who went to the play-off’s (not necessarily in the order of their occurrence). Surprisingly enough, most of this 'meaningful' stuff involved women - 

-          Mamata didi dancing on the streets of Kolkota and spending a bomb on celebrations.

-          Zohal Hameed setting a wrong example(!) as a ‘Future Wife’

-          The ugly Poonam Pandey baring it all for KKR

-          Suhana Khan and friends being pulled out by over-enthusiastic daddy a.k.a. KKR owner

-          Some sexy cheer leaders (read: white mischief), some ugly costumes (read: Pune Warriors), The Ambani Glow, The Preity dimples and The Juhi grins...

      I noticed all this more than Gambhir’s cuteness, Virat’s future-captain’able decisions and well, the points table. I read about rave parties, Shahrukh’s ban from Wankhede and the betting scandals. I loathed an over-enthusiastic commentator who would jump at every ball but I loved the look on Gambhir’s face when this commentator moved his palm across his neck in one of the interviews! I noticed how every match ‘accidently’ had a thrilling finish and felt proud to guess who ‘fixed’ whom. It’s not their fault. Afterall, who will watch for two straight months if the game is not invigorating!

IPL has made cricket a fun ride and has certainly drifted it away from the Gentleman’s game status. When the men tally the scores, the women can look for glamour and gossip. And that’s why, I didn’t mind this long season of bat and ball. Sounds utterly distasteful, I know, but at least I’ve found a way to sit in the same room as the Boy when he’s glued to the television screen. You see, this is the kind of stuff that saves marriages! And you see, this is the kind of stuff that goes into "A Wife's Ultimate Guide to Survive IPL".  Needless to say, with all the tamaasha surrounding it, I can't wait for IPL Season 6. 

I've learnt that...

singing and dancing in the shower is the best stress buster.

random acts of kindness makes you feel like a million bucks.

uncontrollable laughter, when a hint of pee comes out, makes for a wonderful memory.

letting go isn't easy. Sometimes you just can't. Live with it, ignore it and try to move on.

blessings need to be counted. Every moment of every day you must count your blessings. That will ensure your smile never fades.

hug babies. Try to be around them. They fill your life with innocent laughter that is hard to find.




As I grow 'older' and eventually wiser, I'll keep updating the cyber world with my learnings. I'm good at this, take my word for it!! 

Thought for the Day

If a man listens to his wife, he is Joru ka Gulam (Literally, servant of wife. Theoretically, Henpecked)
If a woman listens to her husband, she is Pativrata (Literally, virtuous wife. Theoretically, servant of husband)


The Joru ka Gulam in Him outshines the Pativrata in Me. Hence, I'm the evil one. If it was the opposite, it would have been completely normal and no one would have been termed evil. What is the story of your house, as perceived by intelligent outsiders?

I'm tipsy and I know it

What's the first thing you say when you are drunk - "I'm not drunk."

Half an hour back, I just had one Red wine, one red wine, and I'm tipsy. See, I'm different because I confess I am drunk. I came home and started reading blogs. Then I thought it's a good time to write a post.

Usually when I'm drunk I laugh a lot. A lot. If I'm out, I start dancing like a moron. My steps can give Madhuri Dixit a run for her money. Then I sing songs in the car. I also sing the tune. You know, dum dum da dum, la la la la. My 'melodious' voice makes it entertaining for the fellow passengers. Especially the Boy who has this constant grin on his face. How he loves to see me drunk!
After reaching home I walk to my bed like Johny Walker and go to sleep. I have the most amazing sleep when I get a little sloshed. It's so deep and peaceful. In my drinking career of about 4 years I've just had a hangover once. Like everyone I decided to quit. And then, like everyone I thought I hardly drink, I shouldn't quit.

I love how I'm typing with my eyes closed and a faint smile on my lips. I learned that from years of chatting over the Internet with random boys ... Oh, I miss that. Wonder what's going on in the chatting world. Do they still fall in love there? Wish to be 18 again.

Before I start blurting out more random thoughts in my tipsy mind, I should sign off. Thousand apologies for a curvy post. Hope to be concrete next time.

Going to a cards party, will I win? Song on my mind - When I walk in a spot, this is what I see.... Everyone stops and they staring at me... I'm sexy and I know it...
Ah, I'll surely win.