Hrithik to play Bajirao

Ok, now, I know Hrithik is a hardworking bloke and he deserves good things to happen to him and all, but he just doesn't come off as your average Kokanastha Brahmin. I cannot imagine Hrithik Roshan in Shanivarwada. I cannot imagine him eating Gargat Bhaat with metkut. I cannot imagine him eating Tup-Gul-Pungla. And it's not because I am used to seeing him otherwise. I have seen only his first film, where he gets stranded with Amisha on that beach. [What trash!]

Basically, it's quite simple. Hrtihik doesn't look Marathi, especially not like the average Kokanastha Brahmin, who themselves look quite different from the average Marathi dude. Basically, this is where Bollywood falls short, very very short, on research. Just bloody do something and break even, there is little attention to detail, little finesse, if any.

Now look at this in comparison. Look at that pic, put a white sadra on that guy, give him a well maintained moustache, give him a red tope and a red tilak on his forehead. Now a white lenga, and kolhapuri mozadis and a talvar at the cumerbund. Now put him on a black Indian horse and let the tutari sound. This, people, is the Mard Mavla that liberated the Deccan. The Mavla that took the saffron flag to the Kabul river. And I must say, Roland Joffe has picked his man well.

I wrote my first rap song yesterday. I would have posted it, but my computer crashed while I was still writing and it was lost. And since my short term memory is very bad, I could remember only a few lines. I'll give it another shot tomorrow.

Jai Mumbai! Jai Maharashtra!

Dutapipaan'i

One thing. America does have a conscience. China does not have one. America did refuse to take over the Empire as war repayment by Britain. See. America might be filled with arseholes, but as long as there are liberal democrats, they will be making life hell for the opportunist bastards in power. That is what makes a democracy work.

A logical question is, Why should China contribute to clean a mess USA made? The answer is, there is an elephant hunt in the shrub, and if you help, you get the meat. It's that simple. now, the hyenas and the other lamers play second fiddle to the leonine pride, but they do get their share, don't they?

See, USA is not saying, we are saving the world that we jeopardised in the first place, they are saying, lets make money folks, at the expense of the bloody third world, and the opportunists are rushing in. Whats wrong with that? I am sure we would do the same and more if we had a chance. I mean, the Gujus didn't think of the negroes when they provided finance for the Arabs to engage in slave trade in Africa, did they?

Quite interesting how one applies double standards when it comes to India doing something. I mean, nationalism as an ideology is acceptable, even noble. Don't make it an argument, please.

The Singh marriage

Marriages are made in heaven and ever happy may the couple dwell,
but to endure the marriage day ordeal is to take a trip to hell.
Liberal sprinklings of rose water and maidens decked in gold,
stately proud chested gentlemen and grey ladies of old
chattering away to glory, I watch these scenes unfold.

The groom arrived to a bhangra tune, the joyful dancers pranced
We dug into the samosas, green chutney artificially enhanced.
Cricket is a game of talking rather than playing, said Pu La,
especially when you are in Singaporean company, uncouth
football aficionados trying to show us gentlemen they are cooler.
We thrashed them all right, after all, aroused gentlemen are hard
to resist, and they couldn't use their hands, the poor retards.

The bride stepped on to the podium, with a petite bridesmaid in tow,
she looked lovely in a pink ghagra choli, the bridesmaid, you know...
but the day belonged to the bride, literally decked to the neck
with baubles that cost a fortune on a special day for tradition's sake.
What tradition too, the DJ rapping as the pundit chanted in a language
alien to everyone there but I, yet revered, the kind that comes with age
yet causes rage when you fail at it in school, isn't that something?

As tamil rap and punjabi bhangra vied for attention, silk clad maidens
and women with shendur in their hair, in heavy sadis claden
talked about things totally unrelated, we walked down the aisle and
congratulated our friend on his initiation into the second phase.

The food was good, the payasam bad, with velchi in the tea
smelling so fine, as the pundit went on and on, with a svaha just to see
if people were still paying attention, they weren't. He could have read the
Satyanarayan there and walked off and none would be wiser, maybe
that's what he did. The shubhamangala savadhan was absent, instead was the
outcry of glory to lakshmi narayana. How ironic, I thought, with the bride being shaivite.

But no one noticed, and no one cared, for tradition is just an instrument of identity, I'm afraid.
The important thing, however, was that two people who agreed with each other took
vows to be faithful and loving to each other, and I could see it in their eyes as I shook
their hands. I hastened out, smiling at the bridesmaid, there was much to be done,
I was in the company of a few hundred people, yet still there was no one.