CNY

Totally exhausted after the 4-day CNY weekend. There is only so much lying on the couch you can do before adrenalin kicks in, and the last few hours of vegetation yesterday were really tiring. A bit less life, and we'd have been officially classified as flora.

Vijay had come down from KL, and the three of us (Sat, Vijay and I) have left permanent imprints on the couch. In an unbelievable spurt of enthusiasm, we hauled ourselves to Mustafa at night on Sunday and got a whole bunch of Hindi movies. Before and after that, the delivery outlets in Singapore were working overtime to feed us - the winners being Sarpinos and Bombay Cafe, but no McDonalds, in a stunning upset.

On to the movies themselves. Watching (re-watching) quite a few of these movies after a while is interesting for the change, or lack thereof, in your opinion of the film. We saw Lage Raho Munnabhai, Dil Se, Rangeela, Dil Chahta Hai, Mumbai Meri Jaan, Jab We met, Jaane tu ya jaane na, Iqbal and Tridev (Tridev was just me and boy, do I want those 3 hours back!).

I was blown away (probably the wrong metaphor to use about this film, but what the hell) by Dil Se 10 years ago, and time has made no difference. The riveting first half with its breathtaking visuals and songs - Rahman at the peak of HIS powers - gives way to a breathless second half in Delhi and, 10 years later, we were all once again speechless at the end of the movie. This movie's debacle is the proof that India's audience mostly comprises morons. Their loss.

Dil Chahta Hai, on the other hand, was surprising. I remember liking the movie when it came out. This time around, we were aghast, wondering why the hell we liked it in the first place. It's not boring. Instead, it inspires a visceral hatred in me now - hatred for the rich, carefree fucks who populate the movie, hatred for the meaningless sap which forms the second half of the movie, and most of all, hatred for Aamir Khan's smug asshole of a character, who suddenly discovers his human side. He's not even two-dimensional, and the same goes for Saif Ali Khan, who's just an empty canvas. The only character with even a bit of depth is Akshaye Khanna's. And the less said about the females, the better.

So we had to counteract this empty meaningless drivel with something we thought would be a good serious film - Mumbai Meri Jaan. And it didn't disappoint. It seems realistic and has rounded, believable characters. Definitely worth a watch. Also, Iqbal was a delightful little offbeat movie and certainly a far cry from the masturbatory wasteland that is Dil Chahta Hai. Sorry, I really realllllly hate this movie now.

But that's all over, and now we're back at work. Oh, to be a character from DCH, and lead carefree lives. I'd handle the crushing inanity of my existence (as a character in the movie) if it meant flying back home in first class to my lavish mansion upon every minor setback, and all I'd need to do would be to look angst-ridden, while relaxing in my Italian sofa and watching a monster TV.