What an absolutely fantastic film. Although, I was a little upset because I missed about fifteen minutes of the beginning – five by reaching late and another ten, grousing about reaching five minutes late.
You see I have this entire ritual of easing into a movie – walk into the theatre, gaze at the posters of upcoming films, buy popcorn, settle into the seat, catch the trailers etc. Any slight deviation and I get terribly out of sorts. I can’t enjoy the movie. I don’t know but I’m thinking it may be an OCD of sorts.
And then the experience was marred somewhat by bawling kids who, for some strange reason seem to have an affinity with me. Take cars, trains, aeroplanes, if there’s a kid on board, it’ll be near me. And if it’s a cranky kid, it’ll be right next to me. You can count on it. I do.
Things got a little better at lunch. For one, we got place at (gasp!) Urban Tadka. I mean we have to have made some kind of a record for maximum number of rejections from Urban Tadka in the last couple of years.
So we felt some kind of a celebration was in order.
And as the spirit levels in the bottles dropped, our spirits soared higher.
And we got talking about Federer’s dismal run recently.
“I’m not surprised. You should have seen the way he was playing at Wimbledon. He was playing in Fear. After the French Open, Nadal had got him here,” Sanjay, one of my friends said sagely, tapping his temple.
So coming back to movie, I felt the ending was somewhat tame. I mean Tai Lung is this fearsome creature who, after an absolutely incredible display of martial arts prowess succumbs kinda tamely to the dragon warrior.
But as another one of my friends, Rohit, commented, “It’s all in the mind. In my opinion, Tai Lung lost the fight at the French Open.”
Of course, we thought it was hugely funny and promptly dissolved into raucous laughter.
Then the subject of height came up. And Sanjay as very surprised when I told him Nadal is 1.85 cms tall. He’s as tall as Federer.”
By now, Siddharth the third one, was feeling kinds left out so he quickly quipped, “In Federer’s mind he’s taller.”
And we promptly dissolved into another fit of laugher.
Later in the day, I did my 10k run, which, in hindsight, wasn’t such a good plan. Running while hung over? Not a good idea. Take my word for it. And I’m not talking just about the constant thud-thud in the brain. I’m also talking about fellow runners holding their noses every time I passed by. On the other hand, I perspired away all the toxins out of my system.
Later still, I caught Fiddler on the Roof on DVD. Nice film.
All in all, a good day. Or given my record lately, a great idle day.
When tall, suave, handsome Kaustav Kapoor walks into her office, ditzy private investigator Kasthuri (aka Katie) Kumar has anything but detection on her mind. He is, after all, a scion of Bollywood’s first family—perhaps he has a role for her? Perhaps she will, at last, get to sashay down the red carpet in a designer gown, with flash bulbs following her every move?
But Kapoor’s intentions are much more prosaic: he wishes Katie to trace the heroine of his new blockbuster (and, if Katie’s read the glossies correctly, his life) who is mysteriously AWOL. Despite her misgivings, Katie finds herself unable to refuse the task entrusted to her, and thereon follows a bewildering hunt for the film star across a trail of corpses.
And if that isn’t excitement enough, she has to contend with the maddening and mysterious, but, oh-so-hot, Tejas Deshpande.
The first in a brand new detective series.
IN BOOKSTORES NOW.
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