I laugh when poo-leach coming and pukring AECH

Let Aech laugh now, che is jus a phool. I laugh when poo-leach coming and pukring Aech. You chi the whole thing is that ke Bhaiya, chince school in Aech name, then crime alcho in Aech name.

Salman paints, Saif rocks, and Lil C plays Goti Goti.

It was past mid night at the bidi smoke filled Doodhwallah Central in Allahabad (India). The atmosphere was very tense. The survival of the first family of the Doodhwallahs was being discussed. After years and decades of flops, The Bachchalans had become irrelevant. The once law abiding Vijay of Zanzeer had now become a child molester Vijay of Nisabdh. People all over the country were now looking at Big B as a lame horse struggling to cross over the finish line. The less said about his incompetent son, Lil C, the better. Even the very seasoned Charlie Rose in his recent interview with Big B was finding it difficult to keep a straight face.

On the other hand, blessed with cute dimples and infinite talent, SRK was a natural star actor, a perfect husband, a perfect father, a perfect friend, the very personification of a winner. Whatever oxygen that was left over by SRK, was being inhaled by Amir Khan. With a series of strategically brilliant moves, Amir Khan has become the non-SRK. Together SRK & Amir define inspiration to all actors and wannabe stars in Bollywood.

HR, although a little wooden, with his good looks and decent acting ability was pacing the Khans.

Salman Khan paints, and Nawab Saif Ali Khan Pataudi rocks, and with these extracurricular activities they have catapulted themselves over the riff raff. Even Akshay Kumar with his mindless comedies has turned himself into a contender.

Unfortunately, nothing to write home about was occurring at Jalsa. Hence the bidi smoke filled, tense atmosphere at Doodhwallah Central in Allahabad. A consensus was emerging for the need to erase the disastrous set back mercilessly inflicted by RGV’s Hemorrhoids. People agreed that RGV’ Hemorrhoids was a catastrophe because it strayed very far from the essence of Sholay, which in turn was more or less a page borrowed from Akira Kurosawa’s The Seven Samurai. Hence, there was a ground swell to remake a more faithful version of the The Seven Samurai. Nonetheless, since the structure of society in India is very different than the structure of the society in Japan, it was agreed that it would be better to keep the remake faithful to Raj Khosla’s Mera Gao Mera Desh instead. Even a title was decided and voted on. Therefore Ladies & Gentlemen, my faithful friends, it gives me unique pleasure to break this news to you that soon Big B will be staring in a yet another comeback effort (financed by the All India Doodhwallah Association), Meri Bhais Mera Doodh. We wish Big B all the best, and we hope that he finally makes the comeback that he has been attempting since 1977.

I wish you could feel how gung ho everyone at Doodhwallah Central Allahabad is about Meri Bhais Mera Doodh but that still does not address the resuscitation of Lil C. One wise Bhaiya remarked that Salman’s paintings are fetching more money than Big B’s movies; and Nawab Saif Ali Khan Pataudi’s impromptu rock concert has bigger crowds than the opening show of Lil C’s movies, hence it is imperative that some extracurricular activity be assigned to Lil C, which hopefully might catapult him also into the top echelon of Bollywood. Initially Chappa Diya (i.e. Hopscoth) was considered, but then someone pointed out that Lil C is a clumsy dumbass and will most definitely fall flat on his face. Chappa Diya, it was quickly agreed, will be counterproductive to the need of the hour. Finally, after much deliberation, it was decided that that Lil C should play Goti Goti (marbles). Well, not exactly play Goti Goti, because that too requires some skills, but atleast Lil C should go around the country and display his Gotis, while the well placed paid media consultants and the irrelevant S.S. Sunderums and the Akshay Shaggos on the internet will talk about how fantastic a Goti player Lil C is. Hence while Salman paints, Saif rocks, Lil C will play Goti Goti.

Now my friends you will ask, what about Ashwariya ? What plans were agreed upon at Doodhwallah Central to resuscitate her ? Sadly, all at DC Allahabad agreed that it was best to forget about Ashwariya, in a uniform voice it was said, “Salman Hai Na”.

Yasmin, I am sorry

I do not like to shop. If possible, I buy things online. For my clothes and personal accessories, I have a personal shopper who lines up the ducks for me. I just accompany her, try on a few things that she has planned out for me, and get it over with as soon as possible. Worse than shopping for your self is accompanying a woman friend for her personal shopping, and shopping with a sister is death by congo (I hope some of you know that joke). Nonetheless, the one place I do not mind shopping is rue du Faubourg St.-Honoré . But then who does not like walking around Paris ?

On one of my trips to Paris, a few years ago, while wandering around I ended up at Mosquée de Paris (located at 39, Rue Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire, pretty close to the Jardin des Plantes and the Museum of Natural History). The Mosque is made out of reinforced concrete, and is decorated with amazing mosaics, intricate woodcarvings and very Moorish wrought iron. It is a very pretty structure. Attached to the Mosque is a restaurant. That is where I first saw Yasmin. She was waiting on my table. Watching her glide around the room in her light hazel eyes (lighter than even mine) and somewhat curly Algerian hair was like watching a butterfly effortlessly flap its beautiful colorful wings. Her smile was enchanting, her face so innocent, and whenever she walked by she left behind an aroma of rose. I was on a rebound, not really ready for this, but a voice in my heart said, “Who is she”, simultaneously my lips moved, I asked a busboy who was cleaning up an adjacent table, “Who is that girl”. He smiled and with a wink said that she was a new girl who had just arrived from Algeria and that her name was Yasmin (true name concealed for obvious reasons). I am convinced that I was that day looking at a “hoor” from the Jannat-ul-Firdous (the highest and most prestigious part of heaven) who had been accidently, by mistake, dropped on earth. Every time our eyes met, a voice in my heart sang,

Tum paas aaye, yun muskuraaye – 2

Tumne na jaane kya sapne dikhaaye

Tum paas aaye, yun muskuraaye

Tumne na jaane kya sapne dikhaaye

Ab to mera dil jaage na sota hai

Kya karoon haaye, kuch kuch hota hai – 2

By the God that has created the heavens and the earth, by that very God who placed the planets and the stars in defined orbits, by he who gave Yasmin her beautiful smile, I swear she was no beautiful, so exotic and yet so innocent. Nonetheless, I had lost my fiancée just months ago, I needed time to heal. In any case, my mind at that point was hostage to a walled street, unable to embrace anything unrelated to caps & collars; calls & puts. I quietly sipped my mint tea, ate my couscous, paid my bill and left.

I have since that day regretted walking away from Yasmin. I wish I had taken a different path. Yasmin was the girl for which any decent guy would have sung,

Suraj hua maddham, chaand jalne laga

Aasmaan yeh haai kyoon pighalne laga- 2

Main thehra raha, zameen chalne lagi

Dhadka yeh dil, saans thamne lagi

Oh, kya yeh mera pehla pehla pyaar hai

Sajna, kya yeh mera pehla pehla pyaar hai

Life went on, Kabhi Khushi, Kabhi Gum. On some night, all by myself, looking out from my balcony, the sparkle of one of the stars in the sky reminded me of the glint in Yasmin’s eyes. I felt that she had wanted to say something to me and that I had ignored her. Needless to say, during the day, surrounded by my peers, my thoughts centered around extracting the last basis point out of dry as rock projects. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, a new song began to emerge in my mind,

Har Ghadi Badal Raha Hai Roop Zindagi

Chaav Hai Kahhi Hai Dhoop Zidnagi

Har Pal Yahan

Jee Bhar Jiyo Jo Hai Sama

Kal Ho Na Ho

Har Ghadi Badal Raha Hai Roop Zindagi

Chaav Hai Kahhi Hai Dhoop Zidnagi

Har Pal Yahan

Jee Bhar Jiyo Jo Hai Sama

Kal Ho Na Ho

Hence on one of my trips to France (my fiancée is buried in southern France), I stopped in Paris and made my way to the Mosquée de Paris. I prayed two rakat kasar (traveler’s prayer) and headed to the adjacent restaurant. I sat down at the same table that I had a few years ago and like some anxious child started to look around. From the kitchen door, moments later, emerged Yasmin. The smile was gone. The innocence was gone. Her face seemed as if battered by life. She stopped by my table and I looked into her lifeless eyes frantically searching for that Yasmin from a few years ago. Even before I could complete my order for lunch, her husband (the former busboy) came out of the kitchen with their baby child in his hands, yelling at her to change the baby’s diapers.

Lunch that day did not taste that good. How can this world take a vibrant & inncocent woman and kill her spirit ? It is even happening this very second. It is happening under our very nose. Years ago, I could have done something for young Yasmin but I was busy counting my money. I came back too late, but I promise whenever I marry, whoever I marry, in the memory of Yasmin, I will give her all the joys of this world. I cannot change was has happened, but I will try to make one Yasmin happy. With that thought, I once again finished my mint tea, paid my bill, said goodbye and left, while somewhere in the background (at that restaurant) was playing,

Tum ko bhi hai khabar

Mujhko bhi hai pata

Ho raha hai judaa

Dono ka raasta

Dur jaake bhi mujhse tum meri yaadon main rehna

Kabhi alvida na kehna

Kabhi alvida na kehnaJitni thi khushiyaa

Sab kho chuki hai

Bas ek gham hai ki jaata nahi

Samjha ke dekha behla ke dekha

Dil hai ki chain isko aata nahi

Aarzoo hai ki hai angarai

Aag hai kab aankhon se behna

Kabhi alvida na kehna

I stepped out of the restaurant, looked back and said in a firm voice, “Yasmin, I am sorry”.

 

2007, a stellar year for SRK

It was late Dec 2007, a cold night in London, Lil C dug deep into his pocket and found it empty. Yes, things were that bad. After Umrao Jaan, Jhoom Barabar Jhoom and Laaga Chunari Mein Daag, people in Bollywood were shunning him. His super hero flick, Daaraona was going nowhere, and Dilli 6 appeared jinxed from the get go. Even his wife, Ash was keeping a safe distance, always on some far-flung location on a shoot. It was not as if he could run to his father, because his father too was having major financial problems after Chaddi Kum Banyan Zyada and RGV’s Hemmorrhoids.

Suddenly, Lil C remembered that they needed night guards at Madam Tussauds . He quickly paced to Marylebone Road (Westminster), atleast he figured that he would be warm indoors, and who knows there might be some leftover food in the staff kitchen.

It was difficult passing the “on the spot” exam for the night guard position, Lil C, shall we say, is not that bright (you know, …dumb), but it was the holiday season and given the shortage of help, for Madam Tussauds London, a warm body was good enough. Lil C quickly changed into the night guard’s uniform and raided the staff kitchen right away. By the time he finished the last leftover crumb of the stale doughnut, it was midnight. The clock struck loudly, twelve times. An eerie silence followed. The night guard stint did not seem like a good idea to Lil C anymore, he felt warm moisture engulfing his pants and smell of bad cheese drift gingerly into his nostrils. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, he started hearing sounds of celebration, no it was the sound of the hit song Dewaangi Dewaangi from Om Shanti Om, coming from the Main Hall.

Lil C took one-step out of the staff kitchen, to investigate the sounds from the Main Hall, and immediately froze. All the wax sculptures had miraculously come to life. They were walking around as if they were real people. The moisture in Lil C pants became more pronounced. The stench in his nose which till then was going through an ebb and flow pattern became permanent and strong. This night guard stint at Madam Tussauds London was definitely not a good idea. Lil C made a dash for the exit, but he was so frightened, that he got lost. In his panic, compounded by confusion, he stumbled and fell down. Flat on the floor, down on his luck, what do you think he saw ? He saw a piece of Ash’s clothing. Well, my good friends, ladies and gentlemen, there is no easy way to say what he saw. What Lil C saw was Ash’s inner garment (you know what I mean). He saw a non-sharable inner garment, a very personal inner garment. Two steps later, he saw the remains of a condom wrapping. Then a few steps later, ……… Sallu Bhai’s T shirt. “No” cried out Lil C like a little girl, “Even Hritikh’s T Shirt would have been acceptable” he said. He knew, he just knew, she was getting her jollies elsewhere. It was now very clear to him that Ash’s being away on some location was just a façade, but thank God for the condom. You may wonder why he was thankful that a condom was in use ? Well the answer is that Lil C, like Ramses of ancient Egypt, was shooting blanks, and he knew that the world now, as before, would not accept Moses (should there be a new one) as Ramses’ child. Hence Lil C was thankful for the condom.

Coming from somewhere in the distance were the sounds of Ash’s lustful moaning, punctuated by her quivering cry, “S..a..l..m..a..n”, “S..a..l..m..a.n”. Lil C could not take it any more, he ran away from the moan. As he entered the Main Hall, he saw a coronation in progress. All celebrities had lined up to pledge their allegiance to SRK and to kiss his pinky ring, but he could not see his father. It occurred to him that perhaps Daddy Bachchan was not invited because they had not invited SRK to the wedding. Nonetheless, the good news is that in his pursuit to find his father, he saw the sign for the exit. As he ran out, he found his father outside the entrance being beaten black & blue by journalist with lathis (staff or sticks) that they had borrowed from Bombay police officers (Havaldars).

Lil C stepped out of the Madam Tussauds completely devastated by the events. It has been a nightmarish year for Lil C (and his father).

Indeed what a year, 2007 has been. 2007 has been the year that SRK with CDI has confirmed what I have said all along, viz, that he is the best actor ever in Bollywood. Then after confirming that he is the best actor ever, SRK went on to reconfirm something that everyone (not just I, but everyone) has always said, viz, that he is the best star that Bollywood has ever seen. Yes OSO has reconfirmed SRK’s legendary star status.

Salman with Partner and Amir Khan with TZP gave SRK the benefit of their company. While Nawab Saif Ali Khan Pataudi staked his claim as the fourth Khan.

Akshay Kumar took an important step towards Hritikh Roshan and became a contender to the Khan status. The four Khans, Akshay and HR now define the top 6 in Bollywood. Govinda with Partner dealt himself back into the top 10 while Shahid Dhakkan Kapoor joined the big leagues thanks to Saif’s girl friend’s JWM. Amongst the girls, Bebo was the SRK.

All in all it seems that in 2007 the sun was shinning and everyone made hay, except ofcourse the Bachchalans.