“Theek se dekhyega,Shahrukh ke 10 pack abs hain.”says Nephew
A, all of 13.
“Nahin, 8 pack hain.” Says Nephew B, all of 16.
Auntyji (me) stares hard at the subject of intense
discussion.1…2..3.. she gets quickly distracted by the famous eyes. Those confident,
intelligent eyes which know exactly which expression turns on millions of fans
around the world. If only, oh if only, auntyji could also whistle like the rest
of the ‘public’ in a theatre called Jeetendra in a small town called Bokaro
Steel city, Jharkhand.
Point to be noted: 6 or 8 or 10,any pack abs do work. Even
if they don’t belong to Salman Khan. For that matter, they work on Sonu Sood too.
There… the loud whistles go again, one shriller than the other. Much to
auntyji’s surprise and delight because she always had a soft corner for the
actors with ‘character’ roles, the ones who move to fame and glory through
sheer talent. His shirt automatically tears off those muscles at the mention of
“maa”.
Another point to be noted.It’s all about mothers in
Bollywood.Maa and cine-maa go hand in
hand. Dabangg used both the tricks quite well: meri maa(who was killed),mera
baap(who didn’t love me).
Time for the next whistle and whoop(W&W) round. No
prizes for guessing. None other than the dimpled and sizzling Deepak Padukone
has made her grand entry. Her star power seems to match King Khan’s, going by
the whoop decibels. Soon, a long silence follows. There she is gyrating around
a pole, dressed in her boldest and scantiest dance bar costume. The
strategically placed camera on her long legs (interesting that the director is
a woman and does not bother with subtlety) heightens the mood and excitement.
The “public” is still quiet. So are the nephews. Is it shock or is it embarrassment?
Their Chennai Express diva does not quite seem to fit the image of ‘good girl”
heroine.
Suddenly, the whoops begin again. The Om Shanti Om girl is
making eyes at the hero. His English is like Cupid’s arrow. Well, his eyes are
certainly throwing enough love darts to make every female fan melt. At some
point, the Marathi leggy girl pats him. His ass is on fire. Farah’s brand of
romantic humour from ‘Main Hoon Na’, is working its magic again. The violinists have been replaced by fireworks.This is hot stuff. Whoops!
One more round of
whistles. OH, Abhishek Bachchan is doing a naagin dance. Auntyji looks at AB
with new eyes and nods in approval. Yes, he can laugh at himself. That’s a
smart boy.
Time for the loudest W&W. ‘Yeh mera India’:the patriotic
sentiment, NEVER EVER, EVER EVER, NEVER EVER, fails to work. Subhash Ghai knew
that. Farah Khan knows that. So what, if the song “ Indiawaale” is not all that
foot tapping. It gets the whoops going. This time for the country. Even if it
is at some silly dance competition against Korea and US amongst others.
India rocks. India works. India is the best. King Khan and queen
of irreverence, Farah Khan know this emotion runs thick at the box office.Why
bother with the plot?
It’s time the anti Bollywood critic in us, accepts it and
enjoys it. It’s time to just have a blast. Like the rest of Bokaro and small
town India.
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