God was Murdered

1st April, 2014 I’m sitting at the California airport. I hate airports. All of them. Where the hell am I going. To Australia. Why am I going to Oz. Because it is crazy to go to Oz & I’m crazy. Why are you crazy. Because I’ve lied to everyone in my family. They all think I’m in Washington D.C., in court. I’m a goddamn lawyer you see. And a bloody good one. But that’s not the point. And that’s not why it is crazy to fly to Australia. Here’s why. I’m getting buried (married) in 3 days. And I’m freaking out. My dictator father asked me to marry her a month ago. I said “ok”. Just like that. I said ok and I asked nothing. Not even a damn photograph. I warned ya I’m crazy. But I still haven’t told ya why it is crazy to go to Australia. Nine-goddamn-years-ago I was there. At Monash University. Lived at Farrer Hall, on campus. I was there for 143 days. In those 143 days I lived my life. I didn’t know it then. I know now. In those 143 days I came alive. And some

Girls are beautiful, infuse glamour to the world filled with scruffy men. They give birth, cook amazing food, ooze warmth & naturally brighter than stupid men. I like the idea of a girl. What I don’t like is the outcome. With all the potential they’ve hardly anything to show for. Women blame men for all their under-achievements but that’s chicken shit. “There’s one thing I got against the black chappies is that nobody gives it to you. You gotta take it ” Jack Nicholson declares in the first scene of Martin Scorcesse’s Oscar winning film Departed. Barring the glorious exceptions I’ve found girls boring, fake, scared, shallow, and waiting for their prince charming to complete them. What makes them look so bad is their competition: The Men. It is inexcusable to lose over & over to men. Barring exceptions men are ugly, barbaric, war mongers, brains in their balls, can’t cook to save their life, can’t give birth, struggle with emotions, and their life’s sole purpose

Vishal Bhardwaj screwed up by casting Imran Khan, in return Khan screwed up his absurdist social drama Matru Ki Bijli Ka Mandola. On Mahatma’s birthday Bhardwaj returned from the oblivion with his third adaptation of Shakespeare. Haider is Hamlet in troubled Kashmir. If Gandhi’s life was a message of non-violence then Vishal Bhardwaj’s message is artistic violence. Idea of the film is simple. Son going all out to avenge his father’s murder. What is complex is the backdrop. Kashmir of 1995 is at the height of militancy. Haider (Shahid Kapoor) returns home after years & begins his search of his missing father, assisted nobly by his ostensible love, Arshi (Shraddha Kapoor). His unrelenting quest takes him to dark alleys, hidden cache of dirty secrets. Haider finds his father was murdered at the behest of his chacha Khurram (Kay Kay Menon) who eventually marries his mother Ghazala (Tabu). Haider, the film, shows Kashmir that is heavenly made grotesque by the blood of its ow

Hrithik Roshan is the man every girl wants to Bang! Bang! I’ve not met one girl in this country who wouldn’t wanna do all kinda dirty stuff with him. So isn’t it ironical that this greek god’s wife of 14 years & the love of his life divorced him? ‘ Burn !’ Kelso (Ashton Kutcher: That 70’s Show) would have shouted in Hrithik’s face. Insensitive! Compared to his charm, I’m bit of a joke with the ladies. We do have similarities. I’ve been dumped, divorced, destroyed & damaged. But like Caroline Wozniaki*, Hrithik too has risen in adversity. *Wozniaki (tennis ace & stunning looking) got dumped days before her wedding by the husband-to-be Rory Mcllroy (golf champ) via ‘text message’. P.S. Apologies to smart people but I’m compelled to explain references as most of my readers have the brain of a dead dengue machchar. They’re too lazy to flip a dictionary or google. Bang Bang is an official scene-by-scene rip off of a shit film Knight and Day , which was an unin

FBI Warning: No vodka, marijuana, dairy products or chicken was consumed during the production of this gourmet article. This article does not promise any communal violence, if any occurs, will be purely coincidental. It does contain overdoses of insensitivity & India-bashing, which may result in my bashing & my house being pelted with assorted cheap vegetables & worn flip-flops. And I’m really hoping for such a result. A broken bone & vandalized walls are the price I’m glad to pay to become famous. The Beatles song: A Day in the Life (No. 26 on all-time greatest songs). The opening lyrics go like this: “I read the news today, oh boy, about a lucky man who made the grade And though the news was rather sad, well I just had to laugh I saw the photograph; he blew his mind out in a car (shot himself dead)” I had a similar reaction to the BREAKING NEWS of a man being killed by a white tiger in a Delhi zoo. I chuckled. I have no sympathy for the deceased. On t