Gutka, panparag, chutki,(mouth fresheners) perpetual chewing and ‘abey yaar, line pey kharey ho. Dhakka kyai ko marta hai?’ Then from some corner, ‘Bhai saab, picture kaisa tha?’
Kajol hain na? Apney dheka na?
This experience is a ’muddledom’ as in E. M Forster’s novel but that’s our trait and we exhibit it with pride in our homeland and a land far from home!
The door opens and yet again we have to be reminded of the queue! Meanwhile, I’m wondering if the seats are on the run. Why else would ‘gentle’ man and even ‘gentler’ ladies break the queue?
On eavesdropping my query is answered, it’s Sharukh and Kajol, the magical pair making a comeback in the highly anticipated Karan Johar film, hence the excitement and the frenzy!
Having safely made it to the seat I’m of the opinion that the storm is calm for the much awaited two to sprinkle their magic. However, that was just my fancy, the minute lights are switched off, there’s a cry of desperation from babies no older than six months and I’m made to wonder again. Question: Why do new mammas drag their six month olds to the show? Will the magic of Sharukh and Kajol fascinate their world of innocence too?
Or, are they doubtful that the 'Dolby' surround isn’t deafening enough!
Incidentally, one of the ‘new moms’ is my neighbour for the night and I’m entrapped by her world . There’s a battle of desperation between the lad and his mom. Mamma’s desperate attempt is to hush him to sleep so that she can happily munch her popcorn and sip coke while slipping into the fantasy world of SRK and Kajol; the lad on the other hand wants his way out. It appears that our mamma didn’t remind the innocent lad that it was her day out, not his.
Oh, I’m taken in by the ‘live show’ instead!
‘Please don’t die, Mandira. No, no, no, don’t die Mandira. Mandira, mere ammi ney kaha hain( Manidira, my mummy says... ’)
This is so much like the stream of consciousness novel; my mind must get tuned to the 'live' and the celluloid all at the same time and register the preaching of both SRK’s ‘ammi’ and my neighbour who goes,
“ Acchey bacchey ki tarha,so jau. Mummy ko picture dekhni hain.’ (Be a good lad and sleep. Mummy needs to watch the movie).
Now the ‘desperation fever’ has caught me and I’m anxious to ask, ‘‘But why did you bring the lad to the cinema? Don’t you think he’s still too young?’
However, I refrain, maintain my calm and decide to go with the flow! The madness is only two and a half hours, I say to myself.
With that reminder, I transcend and toss between the ‘live’ and ‘fantastic’.
