The Dreaming Tree

Hi there readers!

We decided to buy a domain and move :) I now blog here

http://www.warmtongue.com/

All my old posts have moved there as well, in case you wish to browse the archives. Do bookmark the new URL!

Thanks for visiting and as always, your opinions are welcome.

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You don't stop pumping,
It's a fair way to the peak,
That violent climax, the perfect carrot,
Dangling in front of your beaded brow,
You grip her harder, she whimpers,
You smirk, such is our love,
Your thighs scream for mercy,
Your heart reminds you of all that metal,
She knows you're inching closer,
The anticipation grows,
A little more, a little harder,
More intense than ever before,
That last drop of sweat drops off of your chin,
Onto her shimmying body,
And as that final gust wind greets you at the top,
You know nothing can wipe that grin off your face,
There are few things as orgasmic,
As a well earned downhill,
And fewer things I love more than Mother Gravity.

Spoiler: This blog entry does not rhyme.

I recently saw a trailer for a Bollywood movie called Pyaar Impossible. It has a generic beauty falls for the geek plot. I'm as interested in the movie as Berlusconi is in keeping a clean image. What caught my eye was the portrayal of the geek.

Now before I start cussing and ranting, you need to know that this story seems to be set in the US.
Ok, now to get things off my chest.

What is wrong with Indian geeks? Aren't we just as inadequate? Aren't we socially inept, sexually inactive, hormonally deprived, visually challenged, romantically maimed and uncool enough?

Because what ticked me off is that the protagonist in the Bollywood movie is the common American teen movie geek. He wears braces, own light sabers, quotes Darth Vader, reads comic books, can't get laid and shows all the symptoms of Asperger's. He isn't white, he's brown, just like his muse, the movie's target audience and the entire crew.

I can take all the American decadent filth these Bollywood nitwits throw at me, but this time they've touched something far, far more sacred than the billions of Gods we have in India. They've crossed the line. And I take great offence.

You don't touch the geek. We go watch your movies. We blog about them. We re-tweet reviews. We buy poster of Uday Cho...oh wait no one buys posters of Uday Chopra. And you find some no brain, gora cloned, teen movie stolen POS to take our place.

They obviously believe that the Indian geek isn't worth the on-screen attention. He has pubescent facial hair and smells of Lifebuoy. He wears Bata leather sandals and checked shirts from Erode. He wakes up early and takes a bus to IIT class. If he's lucky he gets a scooter. He mentally adds the digits on every vehicle's number plate because its fun. He graduates to head million dollar firms or start his own little revolution. He quits his job in a mid life crisis to teach poor children. He grows old to be opinionated, proud, even arrogant.

He is you, he is me, but he fails to capture the imagination of our film-makers.

I understand the movie isn't half as profound as a psychopath serial killer with schizophasia, but you pea brained directors need to understand that America has her stereotypes. We have ours. Dattani exploits the riots and communal tensions in his plays. He doesn't create them, he sees them. You don't need to force feed the junta with borrowed stereotypes. Look around.

And don't you ever, ever even touch the geeks. There will be blood.

Because one day, we will inherit the Earth.