Desi Train

I swear I’m completely normal, sane and in a chirpy, jovial mood discussing current events with my roommates over the dining table. I finish the brunch, and move to the living room to watch “Ab Tumhare Hawale Watan Saathiyon” (ATHWS), directed by Anil Sharma.

Saturday, 2:30pm:
I knock on my first roommate’s door, and ask him to come to the living room. I then knock on my second roommate’s door and ask him to come down to the living room. With both of them in the room, I give each of them my tennis racquets. I kneel down and put my head on the floor. I then ask them to whack my head with the racquests till I cry out and agree that there is not a single drop of hope in my body, hope that Bollywood will give me a good movie, atleast one in a year.

My roommates refused to do that – they thought this was a cunning ploy on my part to kick them out of my house where they have not paid me rent for the last I have lost count of months. In fact another month like this and I’m ready to scratch the word rent out of my dictionary. I already have moments where I have to think real hard to understand what “rent” means.

After my roommates’ refusal, I sat down and thought. I thought hard. Infact I thought very very hard. And I still am, while writing this blog, thinking whether Mr. Sharma thinks we are human beings who have FUCKING MELTED BRAINS IN THEIR FUCKING SKULL. WE WERE SITTING THERE CRYING OUT GIVE US A FUCKING MOVIE WHICH WILL TELL ME HOW FUCKING STUPID WE ARE…and Mr. Sharma listened to our prayers and did give us one.

What’s the story?…aaa…my dear blog reader. Please don’t make this mistake again of asking someone this question: What’s the story of ATHWS? Please don’t ask, if you care for your head not being smashed over and over by the person you asked the question to. But due to the protective barriers of the internet, I will tell you the answer while I smash my computer monitor with the racquet. Hopefully I would have told you the complete story before my computer monitor starts looking like a 12th century piece of shitty art.

……..bear with me for second……..another second……..another second please…….I….the story…WHAT THE FUCK, THE STORY IS SO SCREWED UP, I DON’T KNOW WHERE TO FUCKING START. Amitabh’s son Bobby Deol is killed in war. Amitabh raises his grandson Bobby (again) along with Nagma, Amitabh’s daughter is law. So she is Bobby’s mother. No no not the Bobby I mentioned earlier, but the later one. She is Bobby’s wife and the…uhhh Bobby’s mother…uhh…HELL WHO THE FUCK IS SHE? BOBBY’S MOTHER? BOBBY’S WIFE? WHAT? ….calm down…She’s the wife of Bobby – Amitabh’s son who is killed in war. She has Bobby (again) as her son. This new Bobby is Amitabh’s grandson. Now Bobby is in the army cause he wants to make grandpa and momma happy, but really he wants to fly to America and start his own business. Really? True. Bobby is one of those people who does every thing in the book and outside the book to enter America legally, look for work, look for nice place to stay and end up staying…WITH ME AND FUCKING PAY ME NO RENT FOR YEARS.

And someone please explain to me on why does Nagma look more as Bobby’s younger sister or daughter INSTEAD OF HIS MOTHER. WHAT DOES SHARMA THINK - THAT NOT ONLY HAVE OUR BRAINS MELTED BUT WE HAVE TURNED FUCKING BLIND????

Moving on, Bobby falls in love with girl. Girl was married to Akshay Kumar who had to attend call of duty on suhaag raat. He gets captured by enemy and girl thinks he is dead. Just when things are heating up between our dear old Bobby and Girl, Akshay comes back, having escaped from enemy. Bobby’s heart breaks. Some funky stuff and more freaky stuff happens and we reach climax and good wins and bad loses.

I have always loved shero shayari and was a regular at Kavi Sammelans (Poets gatherings). But I would never in my living life start reciting poetry when MY FUCKING ASS IS GETTING KICKED BY THE ENEMY. Watching Akshay break into singing poetry when he is being tortured by the enemy wants me to rush and do two things. Give him a Superman’s cap and paint a big “S” on his shirt. Yes. He is superman. He doesn’t feel pain; he doesn’t feel the iron rods hitting his body. The enemy is always intelligent enough not to beat him on his face, because they would then have to report to human rights groups who would demand an explanation for beating an enemy on the face. MY FOOT!!!!

More than half of the movie was watched in fast forward note. What would happen if there was no fast forward science, no fast forward buttons? What would happen? What happened to those who watched this movie in the theaters? Maybe the viewers in theaters jump on their seats or run around in the hall, aping the fast forward action.

But I want to know is this: Did Sharma and his crew “read” the script or story they created before actually moving on to make it. And since they did make and release this movie I can only imagine they raising their glasses all excited on what an exciting story they had in their hands. Well…here’s my quandary. Since Sharma and his team already think we are brainless morons, why even bother to make the movie. All they do is go door to door, and tell this: “We created an exciting story last night over scotch and beer. We are very excited reading this story; hence we demand money for being excited”. Take the money from each home and that’s the end.

They then move on to creating a new story and get excited and take money from each house they knock on. Atleast that would save MY FUCKING BRAINS FROM GETTING FRIED WHILE WATCHING THE FUCKING STORY AND THINKING I AM A FUCKING IDIOT FOR WATCHING THIS MOVIE FROM START TO END!!!

Minus Z Grade. Avoid at all costs.

This entry was posted on Monday, January 31st, 2005 at 10:09 am
Filed under Bollywood, Comedy, Movie Reactions, Superhit Posts
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