The problem with Kajol’s sari

I finally watched Dilwale. Yes that Rohit Shetty film with SRK and Kajol and the two new bachchas. It’s old news, I know. The whole world has watched it and not quite liked it too, which I might not agree with, but then that’s my own thing. I didn’t mind it except for this one issue – the issue of Kajol’s sari. But first, if you haven’t watched the film you need to know a little bit about it. I promise to keep it to five lines – brace yourself.

So Kajol and SRK belong to two warring mafia families. Point to be noted here is that Kajol is as kickass and as worthy a scion as SRK. The two fall in love. A misunderstanding crops up, Kajol shoots SRK and they go their own ways till their siblings find each other and fall in love too. After some ‘Dobara aaye to jaan le loongi‘ bit’s and a few sadish songs, the misunderstanding is sorted and voila! All is well (Writing this down I can get a vague idea why some people wouldn’t quite have taken to the film).

Whew! That’s exactly five lines. *Pats self on the back*.

Anyway the point I’m trying to make is this – towards the  end of the film SRK’s brother is shot at by a don (yet another one) and Kajol sits there all abla nari cradling his head and yells for SRK, “Kaliiiiii……,” she screams and SRK comes flying out brave and macho and well obviously, he saves the day.

 

Why, tell me, doesn’t she reach for her own gun? She’s as worthy a ‘donness’ or whatever she-dons are called, as he is, right? She steals the sona from him at the beginning of the film, she runs a restaurant and has some mean shots to throw when faced with a kidnapper. She’s brave and smart and wily and strong so why oh why would she scream for SRK instead of going behind the bad guys herself? Wouldn’t instinct drive
her to go for it herself?

And so I thought maybe it was the sari. Maybe it was the sari killed her killer instinct. Or maybe she didn’t want to spoil her look by hiding a gun in that sari. I mean a bump at her hip would
have looked odd, no? Yet, one would have thought she’d have found a way given that she’d been outdone by it once earlier. Remember Kuchh Kuchh Hota Hai and that basketball match? She lost to SRK, despite being the better player all because of that five meters of gorgeous georgette. Over a decade later and things haven’t changed. This Senorita doesn’t learn from her
mistakes.

Or maybe… she yelled for SRK because she just liked having him around, in which case it is perfectly understandable. I’d call for him all the time if I had the faintest hope he’d come. The brown
eyes, the intense looks, the crooked smile that dimple to die for and the stubble … ooh the stubble.

Yeah if it’s not the sari it most definitely is SRK’s.

Bollywood and kids

I love Bollywood and there was a time I could watch
pretty much anything. I don’t remember ever walking out of a film and I’ve gone
for some pretty lousy ones. I sat through one of SRK’s absolute pits of a film
(I’m telling myself it’s age-related maturity which makes me
admit this even while the heart feels a twinge of guilt at stabbing SRK in the
back). Anyway, all I remember of the said film is that he exaggerated his worst
mannerisms and wore a jacket without a shirt ugh!!! But then he IS SRK and I
WAS young ……. and I am so digressing, but you do get the picture, right?
When the kids came along I discovered to my utter
surprise that I’d turned into a Bollywood prude. I found I had this unexplained
desire to keep them away from all things filmi for ever and ever. I
never did have a fascination for toddlers mouthing film dialogues or aping the
Dabangg dance.
I quailed at the thought of H and N watching crassly
choreographed item numbers to even more crass lyrics, painfully long drawn out
‘come-hither’ looks and counter looks, the even more painful camera shots
lingering on various parts of the female anatomy as much as the gore and
violence. Sometimes they’d come to me with a string of lyrics they’d picked up
from a friend and ask me what it meant and I’d explain the best I could. I got
by pretty well but then those were early days.
The first time N gave me grief for a film, it was Karan Johar’s Student of the Year. She was all of 6 and I was sure it
wasn’t for her while she was equally sure it just was, since ALL her friends
had seen it. To my dismay the society kids took to enacting out portions of it
and I found N staking claim to a certain role without ever having seen the
characters! She knew each of them
through her friends. Still, I consoled myself, it wasn’t the same as actually
seeing the film. Even today the non-animated films the twins have seen can be
counted on their fingers.
However, I have come to realise that trying
to keep them away from Bollywood while living in India is silly not to say
completely impossible. The trick is to filter them and that I hope I can
continue to do for a long time yet. What I remain firm on, is NOT getting
swayed by the ‘All my friends have seen it’ line. I
have friends and cousins who have taken the children along right from the time
when the kids were babies. And I have to admit the children do not seem any
worse (or better!) for it. I put this down to just another parenting quirk the children have to bear with.
I’m learning to let go little by
little. The twins have graduated from KungFu Panda to Chennai Express and we
have begun to watch some really good Bollywood films together but more of that in another post. I still do get the occasional twinge when H and N pick up some bizarre action move or
a weird piece of vocabulary from a film or when I watch N singing Manwa Lage with a look of immense
earnestness and I wonder how much of that emotion she can actually comprehend. I
AM over-thinking this I know. The sane part of me tells me kids hardly
internalise songs and dialogues like adults; but what to do – that’s just how I
feel.
And the prude in me cannot but
celebrate when given a choice the kids recently picked Minions instead of a
popular Bollywood flick. Maybe it was alright after all, alright to hold them
back just that much. Parenting is about individual instinct, right? And then about
hoping and praying fervently that it all turns out right.
What do you think? Is it okay to let
the kids be? Do we end up pushing them towards something by trying to block it
out?