Sunday, February 17, 2008

Jodha Akbar..Faster honey..yeah!

Warning: Spoiler ahead. Technically, this should not trouble you, as it isnt a suspense movie. But yeah it could be a chink to enjoying the movie.

Conversations post movie:

A very enlightenend soul amongst the 8 ghastly creatures, with varying shades of dark circles, posed this question: Where was Birbal in the movie?

Several seconds of contemplative silence and confused murmurings later,

Miss Savvy replies: That was another Akbar.

It is obvious that this movie, causes confusion at several levels. Already, the Rajput community insists that the movie is incestous, Jodha was Akbar's daughter-in-law. They feel strongly about it, causing them to do very effective things like protesting with bloody pamphlets outside theatres. My source tells me, Draculas are seeing this as the perfect buffet. A couple of mosquitoes have been reported engaging in drunken revelry, with the blood content in their..umm blood unusually high.

The second level. History books, understandably, didnt make such a big deal out of this love story. However, they do mention Jodha as Akbar's wife. Which brings me to the point. What do kids now learn? Already , most of them think Chandreshekhar Azad is a certain Aamir Khan, thanks to RDB. Now, while they still cannot understand why Hrithik does not ride elephants in real life (kids, he is riding another Khan which has caused a bump), they will also have to face confusion about Akbar's wife. A typical history class, i figure, would go something like this:

Teacher: Akbar was a great emperor. He was the son of Humayun. And he was married to a lot of princesses.

Chotu:(digs his nose, throws contents at his neighbour, cleans his hands with his shorts and rises to clear a doubt) Teacher, he was married to Jodha Bai.

Teacher: We dont know that for sure Chotu.

Chotu: (scratches his bum) If he was married?

Teacher: No, if he was married to Jodha Bai

Chotu: Was Jodha Bai a maid?

Teacher: No, she was a princess.

Chotu: Then, why was she called Bai?

Teacher: Oh that is her name. She had a lot of other names.

Chotu: So which one did Akbar marry?

And so on..

Third level. Sufi music. It sounds really nice. Soulful, melodious and all. But when you are watching the song in this movie, you will find yourself immersed in a mental game where you try and pick out the twins. Most of the guys behind the main twins, look like twins. And the dance is mechnical like an enegizer bunny getting switched on and off. And hard as i may try i am unable to fathom why they look like someone gave them a swift kick in their balls. At such a happy occasion like a marriage (despite the life long agony) I dont get the point of inviting a musical nutcases in weird chef outfits.

Fourth level. Defying physics at several levels, the mirrors lights up, intending to permanently blind Akbar. In this very romantic twist, the mirror takes you on a discovery of economical ways of lighting your room without the help of those twisted white bulbs.

Fifth level. This is not really a level of confusion. This is a rant. I have never seen 2 people, who by now due to the lack of sex should be as horny as bunnies, lack such chemistry in bed. Hrithik, seems calm and unruffled. Any ordinary guy in such circumstances would be shoving it in exhaust pipes. Ash, we do understand you are married and that your husband, father-in-law and other peripheral people take offense to you kissing. But lying there like a damp cotton mop will not do anything for you career. Hrithik stays safely off her while necking her. Chemistry goes right out of the the ornate, gold plated, clean window.

Anyway, besides these the movie is rather nice. Long. Engaging with its riveting script. Long. Superbly choreographed fight sequences. Long. Nice movie. Long. Now if only someone would tell me where Birbal was.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Show me some love

As a woman with boobs and brains, I can be excused for thinking i am attractive. And today, my self esteem is tickling my toes. I am not only feeling unattractive, I think i must resemble a troll, with BO, hairy underarms and a yeast infection. I mean, cmon, its the day when even lola-my next door neighbour with BO, hairy underarms, upper lip and legs and a yeast infection-gets a rose from some guy. I am imagining this guy is blind, and not faint hearted.

I mean all I am asking for is a bouquet of flowers (yes, red roses as cliche as they may be), candles, soft music, lots of mushy moments, chocolates and lots of foreplay. And i realise i lost most of my audience there. Especially with the last demand.

But guys, humour me. Make me feel special and loved. Tuck an inobidient strand behind my ear. Give my hand a squeeze. Kiss my eyes. Look into them. Hold me close. Hug me tight.Let me lean on your chest and listen to your heartbeat. Tickle my ear. Or my feet. Smile at me. Peck my neck. Talk about us. Listen to me. Stare. And smile. Smell nice. Tell me i smell nice. Dance with me. Serenade me. Make love to me. Cuddle me. Look out for me. Kiss me unexpectedly.

And then wake me up and tell me its over.