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Sunday: A Quiver full of Dundays

Shomsher Kukri, a recently made friend, cause he serves at Naz8 the stale popcorns, 24 time re-heated tea and samosa that look like the samosas have farted on themselves. Naz8 is the closest desi theater serving desi movies. oz being a weakly weekly, biweekly or sometimes triweekly visitor to this heaven on earth that needs inch by inch cleaning with a mop, floor cleaner and a tanker of antiseptic Dettol. Perhaps that’s one heaven that needs cleaning. Not counting the “real one”, which will of course needs a shit load of cleaning each heavenly day cause of the wasted condoms lying on the floor that the Taliban and other fundamental terrorists are using to fuck the 72 virgins. Or was it a 172? I don’t know man. All I see is God getting sleepless nights and banging on his walls… BANG BANG BANG “Could you keep it DOWN… (pause)… WHO THE FUCK COME UP WITH THE IDEA OF 72 VIRGINS?”… and I see Allah, Christ, Brahma and Shiva shaking their heads in fear replying in unison “Not me!”

I’ve tried making love to one virgin in the 37 years of my life and I turned a sanyasi (Hinglish: Hermit) temporarily. Temporarily, cause mercifully God produced 72 de-virgins pretty soon after. More mercifully one “AFTER” another rather than all at a time. FUCK! Can you imagine what would have happened if all 72-de-virginized were just sent in to the oz Home at the same time. CAN YOU FUCKING IMAGINE THAT??? CAN YOU??? NO REALLY… CAN YOU??? How much time and energy would it have taken to clean the bedroom off the 72 condoms (used / unused / partially departed) and 72 condom packets? That is one serious bad back you are gonna get Mister.

Mister, I say. No Miss or Madam. Because while she lay on the bed after the act, it is you, poor bastard, who’s cleaning up the “act”.

Goddammit. When did this movie reaction become about fucking, condoms and cleaning, not to mention the Taliban and the 72 virgins. That’s the fucking problem with me. I should stay the course. Just like the 70 odd people who in their intoxicated state believed that raping two women on the streets of Bombay was their birthright. Specially if the women are drunk. So I’ve asked my girlfriend to eat each day a 4 inch by 4 inch piece of paper on which I write - “Don’t drink or you’ll get raped by the middle class in Bombay”

What the fuck?

Well I’m hoping that the fetus is already eating, digesting and ingraining those pieces of paper. Cause if that fetus is a girl, I don’t want her to be drunk and meet a certain Mr. Raj Thackeray who stares at her from his Ralph Lauren Glass frames screaming “If you drink you will get raped. That’s the middle class(?) of Bombay’s fundamental birthright and they shall have it!”

But using my minuscule brain power, I’v added an extra line “Don’t drink or you’ll get raped and if that doesn’t happen you’ll end up dead in a shitty seat at Alaka theater in Pune, even if you went to watch a movie at Naz8 in California” Raj rules and that’s the end of it. No questions asked. TV today is watched by humanity who’s brains have turned to peanut butter. So raping or tearing the clothes of girls who may have consumed alcohol is now a recognized fundamental birthright.

A certain Mr. Tilak is rolling in his grave. How the fuck would he know? He stopped at the No.1 birthright on the list. The generations later are now fighting for the rest of the 9 point birthright on their list. No.2 is jumping on women who are drunk on New Year’s Eve. No. 3 incidentally happens to be - tying a saffron bandanna on your head and screaming “Jai Hindutva… We have the fundamental right to kill and slaughter non-Hindus on the streets. But if you, who were killed was a Hindu… Ooops… sorry!”

Jai Maharashtra. I wear saffron day in and out. And that includes the color of my underwear. Don’t drink. Cause who knows how many assholes on new years eve will be gay beginning 2009 onwards and then scream on TV “That guy was drunk” to justify their “acts”. And remember it is you who cleans up after the “act”. Bad back? Try aspirin.

Where the fuck is this going?

Seriously, I’ve been trying my best to react to Sunday.

I’m not as smart as many of our reviewers, contestant and bloggers. My patience is wearing thin as I grow. And my attention span grows weirder and weirder. As weird as Ajay Devgan being labeled, since the last few years, by some bloggers and journalists as a “good” actor… If Ajay Devgan is a “good” actor, I’m fucking the Al Pacino of Bollywood, without a movie to my credit. HOOOOO HAAAAA…. Who besides me thinks that Ajay Devgan is the most overrated actor in Bollywood? The slight appreciation that existed in “Company” and “Omakara” is now wiped out and I’m back to square zero. Square One was where I had dozed off when Mr. Devgan decided from now on he will do comedy and make more movies like “You, Me aur Hum”, the trailer of which buzzed the screen like a light bulb desperately trying to extinguish itself. The bulb you see, is desperately trying to commit suicide, and reach heaven for the heavy workout of fucking 72 virgins than be subjected to physical torture of watching a trailer of “You, Me aur Hum”. There is just Gum (Highlish: Tragedy). Stick that fucking Gum up your ass walk out of the theater.

But you can’t. Cause there’s “Shomsher Kukri” standing at the door of Screen 2 at Naz8 where “Sunday” is playing.

“Ooooo Shaabji…. you no going out. only in”

What the fuck. I need a smoking break

“Oooooo Shaaaabji…. only watch movie… it is of my native country. Nepal. You watch or my Kukri kutting you likhe shaaku throoo bhutter”

Wha??? How the fuck does Sunday have anything to do with Nepal???

“Ooooo Shaaaabji… you dhumbash”

You mean dumbass

“Yesh… Sunday movie remhinds meeeh of my Nepal, because it is a gurkha… a.k.a. building watchman movie”

What the hell are you talking about???

“Ooooo Shaaabhjeeeee…. Ajhoy Devghanjee looks like watchman who chews too much tobacco and smokes ganja… his eyeballs don’t move 1 millimeter from their central position on either shide. Arshad bhooi is growing hair which is equivalent if not longer than the hair growing on my ass. Irrffaaan Khon knows not to open his mouth when he is stoned, which is to say, he is stoned on ganja throughout the movie. You wanna bet?”

No I don’t… what about Ayesha Takia?

“Ooooo Shaaabhjeeee… She is a watchman who paints her fingernails”

I had heard enough. I walked back in. Watched the entire movie. Walked out. Ordered a 6 inch thick pole from Shomsher Kukri serving at the food counter. I take the pole and walk to the table which has the sugar, the stirrers, the paper napkins. I bend over. I pour the entire sugar bowl over the pole and then… I shove the pole up my ass.

72 times.

For some strange reason I can’t get the number 72 out of my head.

Oh… and if you watch a 100 movies in 3 months you will have filmmaking knowledge that will be be nearly equal to equal to infinitely more than the director Rohit Shetty. Now all you need is the convincing idiots producers to pay money to make the film. Hey! If Nagesh Kukunoor and Anurag Kashyap can do it… then you can to… Believe in yourself!

F Minus. Write a note each day for the next 3 months and chew it up each morning. So that you can digest and ingrain within your inner system to avoid watching shit at Desi theaters. Oh… the note reads “Bollywood has lost it’s sense of humor…. lets go and fuck 72 virgins to torture ourselves”… Monica Lewinsky stands first in the line… as Allah, Christ, Bhrma and Shiva shake their heads to God’s angry knocking “Not me!”