India in a Celluloid

Book Recommendation

As their rival’ s prolonged showtime didn’t fetch any accolade from neither the heart nor the minds of the million people in a cinema-fanatic country, all categories of movie seekers were ready to welcome the gamechanger (as we thought) of the industry.  

Give it to the man, the protagonist of such a lavishly made flick. His rhetoric and gimmicks were something that even 80’s born kids never witnessed. Successfully strewing the promotions of their future work, he had a dream run that he wouldn’t even dare to dream in near future.  

Once we stepped into the cinema hall everything seemed deceptive. Almost everything, starting from the protagonist to even the colours that dominated the frame (they were saffron). Oh! Did I pay to watch this? But, there is this one thing that remains invariable, our callous protagonist’ s “Burn me alive” orations. 

The plot is hot off the press, the reason being the apocalyptic decisions (orders) we are subjected to. Our eyes will reprimand us if we fail at heeding to even the slightest idiosyncrasies. But, animated people who devoted their hands and mouth only to laud and embellish every passing shot kept us glued to this farce. And the money which lost its value halfway through this art made me catatonic.  

Never had I seen a film where the sidekicks’ contribution to the story is more vital than the lead himself. Right from the very frame, they came in, all their energy was invested in intimidating the opposing ones to think the way their leader thinks. Except for the patriotism inducing (really!) National Anthem that made us to virtually realize the tyranny of our so labeled democracy, there were no songs. This solace is counter-balanced by the mastered chorus of the glee club which always is centered on hushing up the preposterous unfolding of the twists and turns. 

Multiple eyes and vision portray a similar episode, being on either side of the yin and yang. But we are never throttled with what we really want to know. Hold back your decision of taking children to the arena as they will be suffocated by the EXCEEDING oxygen. Rather take a cow along with you, as it will relish the movie for combating their mumbled rights and positioning them as a deity of our nation. If a cow doesn’t own you buy it before it is stamped statutory. 

We never really feel alienated as tiring legs and weeping hearts accompany us in queues and language classes. At the end of the day, I wished it had never started rather than subjecting myself to endurance till the end. 

Wait! I have to stand up to manifest my love for the country. Meanwhile just pray God (don’t ask for a name) that writing doesn’t get banned in cinema halls.