JUST SO YOU KNOW..

One wonders, doesn't one?

 

I've decided to try a little free-association writing. For the uninitiated and plain stupid, that means writing without thinking, simply allowing the pen to move across paper, and eventually words will come, words that have been hidden in your subconscious. You may argue that almost all my work would then fall under this category, but hey, who cares. I am sheer genius, so it matters not.

 

So, anyway, I've decided to be randomer than usual, and cloak this randomness in a mantle of superiority and artsiness. If you don't understand, it's simply because your intellect does not match mine. A classic case of the Emperor's new clothes.

 

Speaking of that, I went for this play a while back. It was the last performance in the Metroplus theater festival and looking at the reviews for the previous plays, I was expecting something spectacular. But the emperor foiled me. It was a play where a man discovers his wife is being unfaithful to him, and takes the suit that her lover leaves behind and makes her pretend that it is their honoured guest. Bizarre, to say the least, without including several scenes where the husband in question has a bath, and then oils his upper body in time to a rising tempo. It made no sense whatsoever, and later I discover that it had overtones of apartheid and suppression. The fact that much of the play was in Gujarati or something may have added to the confusion. Why they expect a Chennai audience to understand Gujarati I have no idea. But then, Bloody North Indians! (He he! I shall come to this later)

 

Anyway, here's the crux. We walk out, extremely disappointed, and find a board outside the theatre, half of it for positive, and the other half for negative feedback. The positive side had maybe five comments, most of them guardedly saying "good!" but actually meaning "I'll understand it after looking it up on Wiki, but until then, lets appear intellectual!” The negative side, on the other hand, was absolutely covered. People were writing over each other’s comments, deploring the moronity of the play. I was proud of Chennai that day. So many honest people! 

 

 

And next to the board stood a girl, a few years younger than me, handing out the markers to people to allow them to relive their irritation for having wasted a hundred bucks and two hours in the theatre. (Of course, a few young couples were looking pretty satisfied, as the place was pitch dark the whole time. Young people these days… Humph!) So my friend Neil and I ask the girl, did you like the play? And she says, “ no, I didn’t have the opportunity to watch it, but if I had, I’m sure I would have loved it!” So we tell her “ Uh-huh. Trust us, it was pathetic” She gives us this LOOK, and says “ Oh I’m sure I would have enjoyed it. I like abstract plays”  And all I could think of were the emperor’s new clothes.

 

Coming back to North Indians. I have recently begun discriminating against everyone. I classify and discriminate. It’s nothing serious. I do it to pass the time. It’s fun. You should try it sometime. So, if I happen to call you a bloody oily mallu, or a red underwear-sporting Bong, or a Blaedy uncivilized Panjaabi, it’s not personal.

 

Have a nice day.