Friday, August 14, 2009

Sunny Deol decides to avenge the dead father of his neurotic wife or vice versa and therefore beats up a horde of goondas on TV while I am eating my dinner. There is no reason the TV should be on, but since I am eating with my back to it I can hear every dishoom and the occasional biff, emanating in Daaku Daddy-style comic blurbs out of the screen. It suddenly strikes me that the sounds made by real fighting are quieter and uglier, and then I move on to how I have no idea of real violence at all. I mean, dishooms happen on TV. Real people aren't subjugated to all this, they have enough trouble boarding buses and trying to live with pandemics and power cuts and things. And yet there are facts to the contrary. But I'm somehow used to nastiness more than violence, in everyday life at any rate, so maybe I should... no, truth is, I don't know how to end this. It's rather amazing in itself that there are other people in the world who can think lucidly enough to be able to grapple with things like these. Things of Immense Magnitude and Importance. I mean, violence. I'm better off making a movie on it than tackling it, which is why I'm a Bollywood fan. I see why the dishoom must be, really I do. Dishoom. The Dishoom over the goli ka awaaj anyday.

Now say el oh el?

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