I was just thinking about this. About the movies that we, Indian audience get to watch. ‘Bollywood Masala’, that’s what we call it right? Yes, it is true. A fun fact, more than 75% movies made here revolve around only one genre – romance, love stories. Once in a while a good movie releases and of course, when it is able to cast known stars or celebrities, then we realize.. ‘Dude, we’ve been watching shit all this long!’. Because yes, quality of our movies are drastically reducing down. And we even realize it few times.. few good creations alarm us to review our taste.. once again. But the thing is forget rate of Indians is too high. Next shitty film comes and we fill the theaters or watch pirated so called 3 hour entertainers on home theaters. If someone tries to make a better attempt, keeping it low on casts and costs, what do we do? We do nothing. Did you forget about our high forget rate? We’ve already forgot those clean emotions we got when we saw that last good movie. Or in some cases, a lot of convincing is needed to bring us to those films. Our mind subconsciously judges it with a quote – ‘If it didn’t make it to and on Box Office, it’s probably not worth of my time.’ Ohh, and did I tell ya, probability fucks sometimes!!
What passes on is time, and what get spent is us. So before you get totally spent, live that dream you are counting on all your life.
This doesn’t make any sense
But well not everything does, not everything has to.
now I am gonna touch the age old ghisa-pita discussion of what race are you racing in! You don’t have control over your birth, your religion, your caste, the economical situation you get born into and the kind of schooling you get.. nothing. You grow up, see other kids passing their board exams, getting into the college and then graduate, so do you! You are lucky if you get a job among thousand candidates for a single vacancy otherwise you go for something which can at least earn you daily bread and butter, you get a girl according to your stability and financial conditions, you marry, manufacture children, apply same cycle to them and then on one fine day your heartbeat stops.
Well, that’s it. Everyone among us is doing it with or without realizing it. Nothing new and nobody is special.
Oh, but wait there is always a thing that makes you special. The thing you buried down years ago. Your dream. yes!! That poor little thing which you never nurtured. Ohh boy..
Torn, staggering and depressed, I reached to the gates of police station. I peeped in. Two hawaldars were in their chairs, resting. I saw one head constable in the corner trying to adjust his position to make a comfort sleep. I went in.
“Where should I file a complaint?”, I asked one of the hawaldar.
“What happened”, he asked without looking up.
“Amm..” I stammered, moved my head a little to check if anybody else is noticing. But, it seemed that nobody cared about what was happening other than his own desk. I gathered all my courage and told him, “I got raped!”