Tag Archives: Salman Khan

When Hell Freezes Over

Is it just me or does anyone else also feel that January hardly ever turns out to be that stellar beginning that we all want our new year to have?

Let’s face it, January is never a good month for anyone. It marks the end of vacations (that’s a big problem right there, see?) and the resumption of work, emails, conference calls and the year-end appraisal process. The traffic is awful because everyone is back to their wrong-ways on the roads, despite the Dense Fog. The Dense Fog itself is an invention of airline companies so that they can happily make paper planes with their schedules and then poke our eyes with them. And, have you observed how suddenly this Dense Fog wafts into your life at the most inopportune moment – like, when you are about to leave home for a long-awaited dinner party 25 miles away? Or, when you must pick up an elderly relative from the station when his train arrives – the one that is running with a delay of…umm…anywhere between 2 to 36 hours?

January means acting on New Year resolutions about things you have to resolve yourself into doing because, frankly, there is no way you would do them with a sane mind. Like, ‘I will go to the gym five days a week’, or the death-wish to slip into those jeans from 2010. Or give up Vodka! I mean, really, who are we kidding? Give up Vodka? In this weather? If December is already cold, January is like God teaching Al Gore some kind of a twisted lesson. And have you noticed that frequent urge to pee that seems to get triggered by the mere sighting of water? The eternal conflict between a bursting bladder and the warm razaai, and you cringing in the middle of it, trying your damndest to stay away from your Siberian-cold toilet for as long as possible. It’s the month when morning showers are quickly dispensed with, and strong deodorants are celebrated as your armpits’ best friends. The jaanghiye and baniyaans take at least four days to go from wet to still-damp when you put them on. And then, there are all those pages of your cheque-book that you have to scratch and destroy because you can’t seem to get the bloody year right in the date field. As if signature-matching wasn’t problem enough.

Makes you doubt if that fancy New Year Eve party at the 5-star hotel was really worth breaking your Fixed Deposit for. All that naach-gaana, drunken buffoonery and Facebook check-ins. Such a premature ejaculation of happiness. And for what? January? Like they say, premature of nothing is ever good.

Strange wonder, then, how we still never learn. How we never wait until February to make New Beginnings. Or, better still, March. That one word even has entire phrases like ‘We shall overcome!’, ‘Press ahead!’ and ‘Go seek your destiny!’ built right into its definition!

No, January it always is.

Despite all the miseries I have spoken of above, January is when everyone chooses to soar their highest, only to then land on their backsides with a resounding phus. It is the month that Sallu Tiger picks for the release of his latest magnum opus. The man is sure ballsy but such a pity that his movies only ever smell of the kind made of naphthalene. “Maa Kasam!” you exclaim using the endearing ‘70s vernacular equivalent of the modern-day ‘Holy fuck!’, as you shake your head and exit the theatre after watching ‘Jai Ho’, “that was way too soon after Uday Chopra!”

Then there is that other charmer, Rahul Gandhi, who has shamed until eternity all parents who once adoringly named their sons Pappu or Prince. (Side note : The ones who named their children Prince Pappu or vice versa deserve to be shamed). Indolent Gandhiji lands a January-date with insolent Go-Swamiji, the dimpled man feeling strangely plenty empowered to boldly go where no man has gone before and has ever returned unscathed. The assumption, possibly, being that the cold of the winter hardens ear wax, making all the 1.2 billion people watching Times TV go temporarily deaf – simply unable to hear what is being said.

The less said about the Indian Cricket Team the better. Its gravest nemesis is the Republic of India Passport that allows it to spend its January in the sunny summer of a distant land, where flightless birds and Hobbits can shit on its face repeatedly and with alarming accuracy.

So, no matter whether your name is Kejriwal, Khobragade or something much easier on the lips, January is not likely the most auspicious month for New Beginnings. It’s more like, ‘Let’s Seize the Day some other day’. Frankly, why even look for a reason to delay rolling in the good times? There are 365 days in a year, after all.

So why Day 1? I say, Day 32 (or Day 60) sounds just as good as any to ring in the New Year!

Happy February (Happiness of the visual is courtesy Google - what would Bloggers do without it?)

Happy February
(This Visual Happiness is brought to you by Google – a Bloggers best friend)

The Good Old Khan Market

The Real Khans (Image from Google Search)

The Real Khans
(Image from Google Search)

The year is 2038, that is, twenty five years from today. The world looks very different. TV serial Pavitra Rishta is finally about to end its legendary run on Zee TV. Prime Minister Rahul Gandhi is expected to lose the next General Elections amid widespread perception of incompetence and fraud, the new multi-coloured  1-Crore Rupee note is the new buzz in town and already in short supply, and Sachin is expected to announce his retirement imminently.

The only thing that hasn’t changed much is Bollywood. Cutting edge movies continue to be made, Item Songs are as raunchy as ever, and Abhishek Bachchan is still waiting to give his first solo hit since his debut 40 years ago. Oh, and one more thing – The Three King Khans still rule Bollywood!

They are meeting today at Shah Rukh’s swanky mansion called Jannat. (Gauri stayed on at Mannat after the divorce) The old boys are reminiscing about their years in the industry over beer, fried boneless chicken and Gelusil.    

 

Salman Khan : Yaar, Arbaaz is forcing me to do Dabanng 14. He says this new one will be better than all the previous ones.

Aamir Khan : How so? When you fart in this one, will it be for real this time?

All of them laugh.

Shah Rukh Khan : Oye Arbaaz, I think I know the real reason why you are making this film.

Arbaaz Khan : What’s that, Bhai Jaan?

SRK : (impishly) Your begum is feeling like doing an item song again, right? Basically, all you are doing is building an entire movie around her item song. Just like the previous 13 Dabanngs!

Aamir sniggers at the suggestion, and Salman and Arbaaz look sheepish now that their secret is out.

Aamir : Abey, haven’t all your heroines retired already? Even Katrina has now, after that awful Mother India remake debacle.

Salman : (genuinely surprised) Oh, you didn’t like it? I thought she was really good! Who else could have played an NRI Mother India so convincingly?

Aamir : (with contempt) Hmpf! Saale, itne saalon mein you couldn’t teach her any acting?

SRK : Sallu Mian teaching acting?

All four laugh again.

 

The doorbell rings. Since only Aamir has fresh batteries in his hearing aids, he is the only one who hears it.

Aamir : I think there is someone at the door.

SRK hops on his motorized scooter and drives to the main entrance. The other oldies follow suit on their scooters. At the door, they find Saif Ali Khan with his daughter.

SRK : Oye, Hello? What are you doing here, Saif Ali?

Saif Ali Khan : (mildly angry) Khan. Saif Ali KHAN. How can you have a Khan meet and keep me out of it?

Aamir : Saif Ali PATAUDI. You are not a Khan, you fraud! You never were and you never will be! Now scoot before I release my 2 Idiots – Sharman and Madhavan – after you.

Saif : This is not fair! I have been as successful a Khan as the bloody three of you, yaar! And look…

Quickly fishes out his visiting card from his wallet.

Saif : Even my visiting card says – Saif Ali KHAN. From Pataudi.

SRK : Aww…that’s cute, Agent Vinod. And don’t think I will not unleash my Ra.One on you just because you show up here hiding behind your daughter, ok?

Saif : Daughter? That’s Kareena, you geriatric idiots! Put on your fucking glasses!

The three real Khans laugh very hard and then immediately break into old man coughing spasms. Saif and Kareena leave the premises in a huff.

 

The men are back in the den, slowly chewing on soft chicken nuggets. Each has been advised by his dentist to be careful about the dentures.

Arbaaz : Bhaiya, tell them about the heroine of the new Dabanng!

Salman digs out his mini iPad from his bag which is also carrying his hot water bottle, emergency hair fixing cream and Viagra.

Salman : Boys, meet my new heroine!

SRK : (observes the picture in the iPad and frowns) New heroine?

Aamir : Abey ullu ke paththey, someone is playing a joke on you! That is Reena Roy. She used to be one of those Nagin type actresses from the 1970s. When we were all in our nikkars!

Salman : (angrily) Arrey kameeno, this is not Reena Roy. This is Heerakshi, Sonakshi Sinha’s daughter. Bloody Assholes!

The other two oldies readjust their reading glasses and have another look. They nod their heads at each other.

SRK : (doubtfully) Helluva resemblance, I must say. (Does not sound completely convinced about the woman’s authenticity)

 

The doorbell rings again. This time the boys decide to race their motorized scooters to the main entrance. Aamir wins the race.

Aamir : (surprised) Abey, who are you?

Fardeen Khan : Fardeen Khan, son of Feroz Khan, requesting permission to join the party.

Salman : Abey, tu pagal hai? We just let the dogs after that Pataudi fellow, but at least he was in films. Have you even worked in films? You look like you run a Halwai shop or something.

SRK : (nodding in agreement) Yeah, he does look like a Halwai. (Calls out loudly for the maid servant) Vimla, did we order any mithai?

Fardeen : (extremely offended) Heyy Baby, Khushi, Jaanasheen – all major box office hits, you bloody pompous assholes!

Aamir : (pretending to think hard) Oh yeah, yeah, I am sort of remembering him now…

SRK : You are?

Aamir : Yeah, he had another film…what was its name again? Oh yes, yaad aaya – NO ENTRY.

The door is slammed shut.

 

Later, after several beers. 

SRK : (wistfully) Yaar, I have had enough of Yash Raj. No more. I can’t play Rahul anymore after the flop.

Aamir : (consolingly) Not a very wise choice for Aditya Chopra to remake his father’s old classic. Is it any surprise that it bombed?

SRK : Well, I think it was because of the title – Jab Tak Haddiyon Mein Hai Jaan. I don’t think people took that to be very romantic. Why couldn’t he just call it – Jab Tak Hai Jaan Mein Jaan – or something like that, like sane people would?

SRK silently takes a swig of Gelusil Liquid.

Salman : (changing topic to lighten the mood, turns to Aamir) I hear your new one is very cutting edge? Planning another trendsetter film?

Aamir : (excitedly) Yes, yes, it’s a psychological science-fiction adult comedy.

Arbaaz : Hein?

Aamir : You remember my old films Talaash and Delhi Belly?

Arbaaz : Yes.

Aamir : So, imagine kind of a rehash of those two genres.

SRK : (finding the mixing of ‘psychological’ and ‘adult comedy’ genres quite strange) And where does the science-fiction part come in?

Aamir : It’s based on the Lunar Mafia. Parts of the film will be shot on the Moon.

SRK : (unconvincingly) I see, I see.

 

The doorbell rings again. By now, the men are annoyed by the constant interruptions.

Salman : (as he opens the door) Oh look what the cat dragged in. It’s Paan Singh Tomar.

Aamir : (gruffly) What do you want, Paan Singh Tomar?

Irrfan Khan : I heard there was a Khan gathering today?

SRK : So, how does it concern you? This is for real, bona fide, Khan heroes only. Not character actors like you.

Salman : Yes, real achievers. Like us!

Aamir : What have you achieved, Pi Patel?

Irrfan : Oh, I guess nothing by your standards. No one is willing to give me romantic hero, or rebel hero, or action hero roles at 70 years of age, that’s for sure.

Salman : Yes, so scoot!

Irrfan : Actually, that is what I came here to tell you. You see, even if you invited me today, I wouldn’t be able to join you. I am off to Los Angeles.

SRK : What for, Billoo Barber?

Irrfan : For the Oscars, na. Didn’t you hear? I am nominated for the Best Actor Academy Award this year. The buzz about my winning the trophy is very strong.

The man bids adieu, slamming the door on the ‘real’ Khans faces.

 

Aamir : (mildly annoyed as he makes a u-turn on his scooter) You know, who cares about the Oscars?

Salman : Yes, who wants worldwide recognition as an actor? I am just happy that people from Bilaspur to Bhatinda idolize me as their God! I am thinking of patenting my pelvic thrust.

SRK : Well, thank God it wasn’t me who got nominated. I don’t want to go through any airport security where they don’t recognize my world famous face.

The men return to the den. They are quite wistful. There is silence, except for Salman’s farts which no one hears anyway. Strangely enough, they are too lost in thought to have even the smell bother them.

Aamir : (finally breaking the silence) Saalon, we have been hares all our lives, running after glittery things that mean nothing. And that kameena kachua just pipped us to the post.

SRK : Yes, yaar, bande mein talent toh hai.

Salman and Arbaaz merely nod.    

Suddenly, Karan Johar’s voice booms on the Public Address system all around the mansion.

Karan Johar : (over the PA) Boys, food is served. Come and get it!

The announcement breaks their reverie.

SRK : (looks at Salman) Ah, anyway, tell me more about Heerakshi. Yeh bata saale, will she play your wife or granddaughter in that film?

The boys laugh and drive their motorized scooters to the dining room.

 

 

No motorized scooters were harmed in the writing of this fictional story. I am taking part in The Write Tribe Festival of Words 1st – 7th September 2013. The theme is SEVEN. This story featured seven people who happen to have the same last name.