This is a blog about Bombay Talkies yes the anthology of Indian cinema that brings together four directors - Karan Johar, Dibakar Banerjee, Anurag Kashyap and Zoya Akhtar to tell their shortest stories, in a terse half hour span. And before, you think I am out to blog about my latest erotic fantasy or next literary offering Sita's Curse that is on the same lines (only it gets better when I put it down), let me burst the bubble and say it like it is. I can't believe this happened to me, in the middle of a perfectly sane Wednesday evening, in a suburban multiplex, the popcorn grease outlining my palms, the ice cubes melting on my tongue. I'm sitting on my writing desk, am all charged up, my lamp's glowing furiously, my eyes are moist, my heart is racing, my lips parted, my anklet riding up. I've been good all this while, right, and bloody angry on some occasions? I even recall using a few cuss words in a few of my earlier pieces (God don't you just love swearing, someday I'm going to try my hand at some nice-sounding Bengali slang!) Okay, so why exactly am I messing with your head here, you're probably wandering? Something personal - though I was forewarned about, on this portal before I came on, that the blogs here must say something larger, something more topical, connected to a larger social cause or be about expressing an honest opinion.īut, what the hell, I've paid my dues I've acted the part. I am here tonight to tell you all a little secret. I'm not writing this piece as an angry blogger or a highbrowed ex-Lifestyle editor or an author.
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