Nikky Boner

If you read the title and went “ewww” despite not getting the bollywood flick connection, you’re probably family, if not; the time is ripe for your palm to meet your face or your head to meet your desk, your choice.(you are probably thinking I used ‘your’ and ’you’re’ excessively in that sentence, well, now you are)

Most of you guessed right, this has something to do with the movie “Vicky donor”, not everything, but yes, something.(I hate spoilers, be it books or movies, so I assure you, you can read this post and watch the movie later, not like every hindi movie is a “kahaani” or “A Wednesday” anyway, this one certainly isn’t )

There are days when one feels bored for no reason, a boredom not even twitter can solve, real-world boredom. Today was one of those days, and I (very much like the protagonist of the movie) have the ability to kill time and feel happy on my own, so off I was on a day out, good food at a new restaurant followed by a movie was the plan, the only unplanned parts were what I’d eat and which movie I’d watch.

A quick twitter poll and a couple of positively depressed juniors I met ruled out “Hate story”, so “Vicky Donor” seemed the obvious choice and boy am I glad.  

It isn’t some art-film or something with too deep a message, neither is it your average  bollywood flick, allow me to elaborate, an average bollywood flick is one in which the hero has a trait, job or a secret that the viewer is introduced to within the first quarter of the movie, by which time he meets, woos or attempts to pataofy the chick, he succeeds, just before the intermission and about a fifth of the movie is about the rosy, cheerful lives that good-looking people who can sing and dance  at the drop of a hat live, then, without warning *snorts* out comes that secret and all hell breaks loose, movie then defies all Freudian theories and at times Newtonian too, just to right those wrongs and in the end, all is well.  Wait, so Vicky donor *is* an average bollywood flick, my bad :p

However, there are few random observations I wish to share with you :

1.     I remember random stuff like the guy’s car number (DL 06 C 2596) I think , old me went and watched non-khan hindi movies in a cinema hall for one reason only, that was before I started using the hashtag #ForeverAlone on twitter.

2.     Punjabi grannies drink whiskey! The only liquids apart from water and Kaapi my dadi partook were paanka(lemonade) and teertha(holy water).

3.     This awesome analogy is true Punjabis: Bengalis:: Kannadigas: Tamilians ::Smarthas : Madhavas .

4.     I have more in common with the bongs than I thought I did, you see, I thought the only thing we had in common was that I love double D and they love double Di, but looks like hatred for delhi is something we share too.

5.     I have more in common with the Punjabis than I thought I did, you see, I thought the only thing we had in common was that we love to “that which comes before part-B”, but looks like we share our hatred for bongs.

6.     Anyone can grow fat, seriously, that lanky, creepy looking dude who used to yell “Deewane, parwane, mastane” is now a creepy looking fatso with a Punjabi accent as authentic as my tamizh accent when I say “machaaaa vaa inga !”.

7.     I have a new “type”, that chick whose answer to the question “What’s your name?” is the same as my reply to the poor folks stuck in an elevator with me when they say “Do you smell something funny?, who did that ?”- “yeah, me”. (her name is Yami gautham and she is the sole reason behind the title of this blogpost)