Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
I went to the library today. No, let me rephrase that. I went to the library today to get my membership renewed. I hear you ask me why that tiny added detail makes a difference, so here it is.
Friday, November 11, 2011
So I know this is a bit late, but I didn't want to put up any spoilers before all of you'd seen the blessed movie. Yes, I'm that nice. Also, I'm lazy, but we'll not touch upon that for now. Stick with nice.
- Bring your child to sexually indulgent parties:
During the launch party for Ra.One, Shah Rukh and his wife decide to bring their ten (eight?) year old son to party filled with scantily clad women shaking their Badonkadonks to the tune of "The way that booty goin' pop pop pop". (Note: Actual lyrics from the song, no shit). Also, during this party we get to see a nice up-skirt view of the child's mother as she cavorts with about twenty men and practically makes sweet, dance-floor-love to her husband. Later in the movie, at the kid's birthday party, the robot-that-looks-like-the-kid's-dead-father engages in what can only be described as a passionate, indulgent, lip-locked, musical bumping-of-the-nasties with the kid's mother. I could point out that the mother in this scene is, in fact, another male robot, so basically what we witness at the kid's party is a simultaneous expression of violent infidelity and post-marriage robo-homosexuality, but the whole thing is messed up enough to begin with.
- Let your child roam alone on the streets of London after you just got robbed:
At one point in the movie, Shah Rukh Khan and his son (daughter? I don't know, can YOU tell?) get robbed at knife-point by a midget in a leather jacket. Once again, I could comment about how the English midget spoke flawless Hindi with perfect ease, but I'll reserve my comments.
The point is, immediately after this occurs, Shah Rukh's gender-less lovechild verbally emasculates his father and storms off down the street. A regular father would make at least the smallest effort to try and stop his only child from walking down a mugging-midget infested London alley by their lonely selves, but not King-khan. No, he just stands his ground, proud as all glory, defending his actions with his head held high from the words of his ten-year-old child who is no longer there, and is probably getting touched in all the wrong places by pedo-midgets in some dark corner.
- Let your son play self-aware, homicidal video-games:
When you encounter a video-game that tries to make you hurt yourself and nearly destroys its immediate environment during the initial testing phase, is there a better next move than to let your only child try it out? If Shah Rukh Khan is to be believed, no, there isn't.
So after Ra.One makes Shah Rukh's stereo-typically Asian (and slightly race-offensive) best friend cut his own hand during a video-game test run, he just willy-nilly let's his son try the game out wearing the exact same gear. This, after the all-powerful antagonist in the game start displaying functions not programmed into it and (very obviously) appears to have a nasty, destructive, self-awareness. Win-win for everyone. Except, y'know, the potentially murdered gender-less child.
- Do the nasty-nasty with a robot-look-alike of your recently-passed husband:
You know what they say, life moves on. Kareena Kapoor, however, gives new meaning to the words "Faster than the speed of light". In the few short weeks immediately following her husband's death and discovering G.One, the robotic, photoshopped, blue-eyed version of her south indian husband, she went from awkward touching to reluctant boob-grabbing to conscious eye-f***ing to moonlight hugging to hot, sweet love-making on the dance floor at their kid's birthday.
Now, call me old-fashioned, but I think you need to give the dead man some respect. I mean, yeah, he was a racially offensive South-Indian nerd who ate spaghetti and curd (yes, you read that right) with his hands while insulting several races, regions and religions at the same time, but he did provide for your family, buy you two very luxurious houses and provide you sweet loving for at least ten years. Somehow, going to town on his robot-twin that can't tell the difference between the sensations involved in intercourse and para-gliding without the relevant programming seems a bit too..err....liberal.
Add to this the fact that this entire process happened right in front of the little kid, and you have a recipe for success that is bound to turn any kid into the next Charles Manson.
- Encourage foul-language:
I'm not one to be preachy about cursing, I grew up in Delhi. If what you're saying does not insult some body's mother or sister in some way, it isn't a legitimate sentence. All I'm saying is, we don't need parents rewarding us every time we curse.
During the movie, the ten year old gender-less love child uses the words S***, f*** and ass-wipe to his heart's contentment without any kind of objection from either of his parents. Toward the end of the movie, he happily makes humorous use of the word "Condom". The concept of sexual contraception is perfectly healthy to instill into your children, but there is a certain manner in which it is to be done. Of course, this is what finally catches Kareena Kapoor's attention (not the s***s and f***s, no) and, just when you think she's about to lay the back of her hand on her son/daughter's face, she grabs her child and engages in a fierce tickling session.
I know, awesome parenting win, again.
- Encouraging Satan Worship:
Every time the boy-girl plays any video-game, he/she plays under the player name of Lucifer. A saner parent would probably discourage their child from enveloping their identity in that of Satan before he was cast to hell, but Shah Rukh Khan conveniently lets it all slide. In fact, he encourages his son to continuously use the same user-name every time he plays.
Of course, this eventually pisses God off and the kid is hunted down by an immortal game-bot because of that name, but that's another story.
- Inappropriate touching:
You already read about the slightly uncomfortable boob-grabbing sequence between Shah Rukh and Kareena. This would be scarring enough for the child, but a little too easy for the makers of this fine cinematic venture.
In the final battle between Arjun Rampal and Shah Rukh Khan, G.One is guided by the child (yes, the child) to get down on one knee and ferociously grab on to Arjun Rampal's crotch. To add the crescendo to this masterpiece, you can notice a hint of a smile on Shah Rukh's face as his hand violently cups Arjun Rampal's robotic nads. Of course, given everything the kid's been through, being a little bi-curious at the tender age of ten is probably the best thing that could've happened to him. In my honest opinion, things could only have gotten worse for the rest of his life. Necrophilia, sado-masochism, erotic-asphyxiation and prostitution are some of the avenues I predict that kid will explore through the rest of his life. The world is his oyster.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
I look out my window at a world full of cars, buildings and suits; the Armani’s and the Cavalli’s; the Aston’s and the Volkswagens; the Rolexes and the Tissot’s; each and every one a fancier imitation of the other.
A mere 19 years of existence seems like a lifetime with the monotony I see around me. The faces on the bus all seem to have the same tired, sullen expressions, staring at me with their identical, bored eyes. The halls in every building containing life in identical seven foot high corridors seem to be an extension of one another, never-ending, suffocating.
Everyone wants to finish first; everyone wants that tiny edge over everyone else. The problem is, thanks to our overachieving lifestyle choices and continual desires for excellence, in our attempts to be proud with humility, affluent with empathy and authoritative with magnanimity, we all pretty much touch the finish line at the same time.
When I was younger, I’d often read about the legendary Pied Piper. The man who was paid to rid the city of Hamelin of its problems eventually led the entire city to its end, pulling away the children of the city with his mesmerizing music.
Now that I’m much older, much wiser and much sadder, I see that we’re all really following our own Pied Pipers. Chasing our dreams, mesmerized by the promise of a tomorrow brighter than our brothers and sister, we race blindly through our lives, existing for tomorrow, not living for today.
Just like the story, we’re all hoping to rid our lives of our problems thanks to a future that we’ve built in the landscape of our minds. A place where, as Axel Rose puts it, “the grass is green and the girls are pretty”. This is a future that we dream of, but are not prepared for.
The thing about dreams is that they never die. They grow bigger every time you come close to realizing them. This isn’t a bad thing, necessarily, except everyone’s dreams seem to be headed in the same direction.
We’re all aiming to be rich, happy, successful, powerful people in the near future. You see a bright, promising future of hopes and dreams; I see a dark era of monotony and imitated existences. Everyone is a leader or a follower, there are no individuals. Everyone wants to be an Investment banker, a lawyer, a musician, an actor, an artist or a doctor.
No one seems to want to go live on an Island; no one seems to want to invent a cocktail that rocks bartenders across the globe; no one wants to grow up and read all the classics; no one wants to be the alphabet-burping champion of the world.
Don’t dream small, dream different.
We’re not confined by society anymore. We’re not confined by the desires of our parents; we’re not confined by our financial conditions. We’re trapped in the prison of our own minds. We’re so eager to please our own sense of achievement we forget to please our sense of contentment.
It’s usually the ones that are different that are left out in the cold, and that scares us sometimes, I suppose. No one wants to be a Graffiti artist if it means they’ll spend their mid-thirties living in their parents’ basement. It’s the fear of failure; the fear that our dreams will be overshadowed by the achievements of our peers, that drives us further and further away from where we could have been and closer to where we simply ‘want’ to be.
It’s a difficult, twisted logic, but so is the whole concept of conforming to our own perception of normal.
Why can’t I eat rasgullas with chocolate sauce? Why can’t I wear beach shorts with a waistcoat? Why can’t I run along the highway in the middle of the night?
It’s when we start asking ‘why’ that a lot of the questions we might be posed with in the future start getting answered. Everyone wants a shiny golden star on the pin-board of the world next to their name. They don’t understand that there are few who care. You don’t live for that Shiny star, you live for yourself. You don’t need to shine to glow.
In a world where everyone is free to do whatever they want, people usually conform to what everyone else seems to be up to.
The Piper’s calling you to join him.