December 04, 2008

Life As A Soap Opera

A friend and I were having dinner the other day after watching Dasvidaniya. After a lot of real life experiences I have come to the conclusion that most of my life’s problems have their roots in the minds of intelligent women I have had the privilege of knowing. Take for example this movie. Had I watched it with an intelligent man, we would have watched it, he would have listened to my dard bhari dastaan of something under the sun (I never run out of them), we would have dinner and coffee, shaken hands and plan the next movie. If he were an ubersexual man, we would perhaps have discussed how brilliant the acting was. How non-melodramatic and therefore lovable the movie turned out to be. We might also have analyzed the characters and told each other how badly it hurts when friends change, how on-top-of-the-world you feel when you finally are able to say what’s in your heart to your childhood sweetheart, how painful it is for the family to accept that a member will soon be no more amongst them.

In effect, we would have decided that it was one of the really good movies we have seen in some time, in these dark days of enjoying Hello and Golmaal Returns. In an aside, when I went to watch Fashion with an intelligent man, we had watched it, felt really depressed and in complete unanimity decided that the only way to lift our spirits up was to watch Golmaal Returns.

But intelligent women, hell bent on causing trouble choose to do things differently. As I looked intently about the menu wondering why the Thai had to give me such choices like the Green and the Red Curry she suddenly asks me, “So what would the movie on your life be like?” This is essentially a no-brainer if a guy puts the question to you. You would agree that both your lives are soap operas, make fun at the K serials and then go back to decide between the Thai Red and the Thai Green Curries.

But intelligent women ask it in such a manner that they make you think. And they seldom take an answer which is not well thought out. Either the Thai Green Curry that she had ordered or my safe answer of “My life is like a new age multiplex movie” might have saved the day for me but it got me thinking. This is the other problem of having dinner with intelligent health conscious women. Not only do they make you conscious of your food intake, but they also make you think. Men, on the other hand, order more than they can eat and keep thinking topics out of the dinner table. We discuss cricket.

So after a lot of thought, like a true blue diploma holder in management, I decided to go by the elimination route. The last time I actually fought was with a fellow bong in my wing in third year when he, draped in his shawl, came running towards me with a broom, for lack of a better weapon of course. My response to such dastardly attack was to pick up my own unused broom and defend myself. Since this won’t be an exciting fight sequence Action is out.

Being a Bong I believe I have a birthright on romanticism, but when I bounced this idea off a few close friends, they started laughing like there was no tomorrow. Apparently for a romantic movie, you first need the romance between two individuals. Uncouth people, what will they know of ‘thought-romanticism’ where you are in love with a thought, an image!!!

So Romance was out. And as comical I might be to look at, I definitely do not have incidents in my life that will make an audience begging for more. People in my college could not grasp the worth of my jokes, what will the world understand?

Mythologies and period epics are out for obvious reasons. Last time I defied my father was over choosing something for the house which later was vetoed out by mom who obviously chose the best and something completely different from both our choices. It’s not like I found some Anarkali, took her to dad who threatened to cut me off from takht-e-hindustan. I think the way things are going, mom and dad would be very happy if I announce one day, “here is my Anarkali.” And it actually turns out to be a woman and not a pomegranate.

Superheroes were a possibility. I avidly watched Shaktimaan when I was a kid. But then, travelling in a crowded Mumbai local everyday is not exactly a super power. And I haven’t yet been able to get up on a Virar Fast and get down at Dadar at 7:30 in the evening.

College was a strong possibility. Friends form a big part of my existence. But Indian audiences need the romance in college. There has to be a triangle somewhere. So that went out. My musical prowess is tending towards minus infinity so anything like a Rock On is also out of the question.

So finally I came across this one movie which can be the story of my life. But it’s late in the night and I’m feeling like I’m the re-incarnation of Fermat. So long then, Adios.

3 comments:

Shreya said...

Banjo! U look like a super-hero, whose name also sounds like one :)
Btw, thought-romanticism is oxygen for the soulful. Raison-de-etre. And thanks :)

KimyaShafinaaz said...

You have an awesome writing style... but mostly your comment about intelligent women leaves one thinking that the world would be dastardly if not for the few good conversationalists who will make souls rise from their solemn, silent graves of choice.

Life is tangible fiction, really..

Madhurjya (Banjo) said...

@ Shreya - No comments :)

Thanks Shafinaaz. Btw how do you manage all your blogs? have loads to read though as I see. Thanks for stopping by.

PS: have you heard Dangling Conversations by Simon and Garfunkel?