Excusing our moral smuttiness

Let’s digress for a little while now. Enough of writing/reading stuff that doesn’t arouse us (no pun intended). Why not discuss That We Don't Speak Of although we unscrupulously love watching them? Bingo! Porn, it is! 

To begin with, porn industry thrives on fertile imagination — theirs as well as ours. In fact, it all started because human mind got deeper and wilder than we could possibly handle (pun intended). Having said that, any porn movie that lasts longer than 8 minutes is based on fiction. Accordingly, none of these X-rated magnum opuses carry the ‘Based on a true story’ tag. [Conclusion: The people involved in the making are as ethically honest as we can never get.] To accentuate their veracity, you’ll never see the sexual innuendo 'Coming Soon' used in promotion of such films. Unlike hypocritical regular movies. 

Talking of hypocrisy, there are dickheads who find it difficult to enjoy this kind of cinema (if it may be called so) with a boner. What the F@&#! In any case, the pornographers can’t care less. We don’t live in a perfect civilization. If we did, the porn stars would have been referred to as porn artists. But that’s not how things are. To illustrate this point, Sunny Leone is a honored graduate with B.Cum. And we’ve got to respect that. Along with a lot of her features that distract us, nonetheless. To illustrate a more subtle point, watching Sharapova play tennis is like listening to porn. Well, almost.

Now that we’ve come to that point where this blog post ain’t going nowhere (as usual), let’s welcome God into this tripe. Based on an intense biblical study, God accidentally became the first porn filmmaker when that nefarious serpent got all pimpish. For the all-time record, that was His first divine error. The second was putting up ToI website where soft porn effectively competes for our attention over the crappy news.  

Everything said and done and watched, porn is one of those few wonders that keep humankind hopeful during *hard* times. And we can't digress from this reality. Luckily.

Last Man Standing

He thought he was a sad human being. It had nothing to do with truth. He just believed so without
allowing himself a reality check. For most part of the day, he kept walking with his eyes staring at the ground below. If not, then he'd be standing somewhere, lost in his own cloud. Well, some people like being depressed. It gives them a soothing feel like a warm smile in an air-conditioned office or something. Perhaps this guy in question was one of those. Who knows for sure? We're just speculating here. But he did look morose. After all, he never seemed at peace. Something was bothering him inside. If he had a lover, we could have figured out what his problem — other than the girlfriend — actually was. But he was too lonely to be associated with anyone, especially not from a fairer sex. He simply continued appearing worried, friendless and in dire need of a mention in someone's silly blog. If only he had somebody to share the fart-breaking news that he was suffering from piles and can't sit on his third eye as comfortably as he once could!

Imagining an ideal world

In an ideal world, you won’t be reading what I’m going to write. Goes without saying, in that world, I won’t be writing what you’re going to read either. Things would be different, not necessarily fancy. For example, India would have a real PM for a change. Pakistan won’t have a President like Zardari. Better still, in an ideal world, Pakistan won’t even exist. OK. I take that back. Let’s go with the flow.

In an ideal world, Indian artists too would be welcome in Pakistan. In an ideal world, Pakistani players would be making hay in IPL. But then in an ideal world, cricket would be too boring and already extinct. Alright. That was harsh. Let’s stick with the ideal flow.

In an ideal world, (add anything you want as the ideal world wouldn't give a shit about them).

In an ideal world, you and I would be in parallel universe wondering where we went wrong. In an ideal world, yawning would be a thing of the past and we’d have come up with something better than keeping our mouth open for no particular reason. People won't trouble each other with pointless questions like "How are you?" in an ideal world. Better still, people would give up talking voluntarily in such an ideal setup.

In an ideal world, I'd be having food instead of just harboring thoughts of having food. Now how’s that food for thoughts? Or how that's for being cheap? Anyway, in that world, beggars won't expect alms and would be there just to make us feel bad about ourselves.

In an ideal world, ragas won't be confined just to gharanas alone. Music would be free. Everyone would be blessed with a voice that doesn't suck. Everyone would be partying 24/7. Even the bald men would let their hair down. 

No, wait.

In an ideal world, God would be more than an imaginary friend. And religion would begin and end with George Carlin. Last and definitely the least, in an ideal world, the word ‘ideal’ would be mythical and not in popular usage.

Curious

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“Long time ago….”, the teacher embarked on a journey that covered some of those large creatures who roamed on this planet before an asteroid decided to gatecrash their party. On knowing them, a little kid’s eyes widened and his brain doubted before the bell rang and everyone rushed out. He ran home and confronted grandma, “Have you seen a dinosaur?”

On third thought...

What is it about the eunuchs in this city that compels a person to take notice?

Let’s ponder.

Abnormality? A ruthless dash of incoherent claps? Extravagant helplessness? Empathy? Insistence on making you shell out money against your wish? Excessive makeup? Adherence to sindoor? Voice? Beautiful face? Ugly face? Mockery of gender? Superstition? Belief in psychic powers? Sympathy? Respect for sari? Disrespect for sari? Noise? Societal breakdown? Rebellious outage? Colorful bangles? Mogra? Inadvertent reverse-discrimination? Unnecessary touchiness? Dystopian yet blissful existence? Abuse of Hindu mythology? Asexual perversion?

Keep pondering.

Yes Saar, K?

Not that anyone is complaining but I haven’t updated my lousy blog in quite a long time. The reason behind this era-distorting act lies in my changing of priorities. In other words, I’ve got priorities now. Like beauty queens from India who think becoming a Hindi actress will save the world, I too am an entertainment journo now. Sorry, I forgot to add the word ‘wannabe’ in my previous sentence. But for all it’s worth, I’m busy chasing Bollywoodians nowadays and I’ve somehow convinced myself that this will ultimately save the world.

So far, so rude? Well, not exactly.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been meeting people from B-Town and I’ve got to admit I’m amazed and perplexed at the same time. Amazed by some big stars’ down-to-earthness and perplexed by some not-so-big-stars’ defiance of gravity. For instance, I met King Khan last week and passive-smoked three cigarettes within 16 minutes. I didn’t mind it since he came across as someone who knows what he’s talking about and answered all my queries. He was sharp, philosophical, witty and seemed very well-read. And by well-read, I mean he appeared to have read my conjectural article that got published in January!

I met other Bolly A-listers too but it’d be better if I don’t disclose them now. Maybe I should wait until I figure out where exactly to use ‘wannabe’ in a sentence.