God was Murdered

March 25 th  2016 is a marked date for me. On this mammoth day there will be two freak clashes — Me vs. Ex-supergirlfriend and Batman vs. Superman — but till that life-altering event stabs me in the deepest corners of my heart, you and I will have to settle for Star Wars vs. Bajirao Mastani. Comparing these two films seems like a mistake of even greater proportion than me inappropriately cuddling a freshwater crocodile on that unusually cold evening on a park bench in Gold Coast. But, then where's the fun in life if its very existence isn't in danger. There are similarities between the two worlds of the films. Both are larger than life, one set in the mythical future and the other in the mystical past, are indulgent, mega budget in their respective milieu, and with niche directors & sleek performances. To my limited intelligence, the similarities end there, and a gulf emerges – a gulf bigger than the sexual freedom of an ISIS Jihadi's wife and a girl

We’re a nation of sentimental polythene romancers and fancy sticker hoarders. And we love it – we flaunt it. We never remove the polythene from our televisions, laptops, car seats, cushions, sofas, phones - Ironically, we never slip on the polythene when it’s crucial and the result is 1.3 billion marriage junkies. We’ve this incurable inbuilt inferiority complex that we must prove at the drop of a hat that we’ve  arrived  - Monetarily, of course. We’re always going to Mussourie in a Volvo (never in just a bus), to Jaipur in Shatabdi (never in just a train), flying to Bombay (never simply  going  to Bombay) and deliberately forget to take those airport tags off even if they read – Kingfisher – a company now defunct for over three years. My iPhone is dead (never just my  phone  is dead), I forgot to wear my Rado (never simply forgot to wear my  watch ) dude, my Audi got scratched (never just my  car  got scratched), my house in GK 1 (when the house is clearly your parents’