The Assassination (Part 1 ) --Day 10

Sasha felt her heart beat way too fast than she knew was humanly possible.She clutched the strap of her bag sliding down from her shoulder and pushed it up.

"Walk Faster" Said the caterpillar.

It was impossible that the man walking beside Sasha was not the human form of a caterpillar. He looked every bit like one. His eyes were too large for his face and his face was too small for his thin, long body. Sasha surprised herself by nicknaming the man in such a situation. But that was the whole point. She was in the situation because she had finally taken a decision -- however stupid and extreme the decision seemed, even to her own self.

The room was covered in cheap blue paint and the wall was chipped off from more places than it was intact. It reeked of alcohol and smoke. Sasha tried to walk straight without looking at the group of men sitting at a makeshift table and unmatched chairs,playing cards.

"God! Let me come out safe from here!" She prayed. The prayer seemed a bit silly, considering the reason she was in this room, but she still wanted to come out safe from there. "At least not here" She thought.

"Belwa will be here shortly.Sit" said the caterpillar. Sasha sat beside a bed on a plastic chair. She pushed the chair back and slowly looked around. The room was almost empty except the furniture that was being used. There were phones being charged at every electrical point and a pile of utensils with leftover food.  "This is nothing like the movies" Sasha thought. Her heart was still beating very fast and she was almost sure that she running a temperature or maybe it was too hot -- or maybe she was just too nervous to understand.

"Oh It is a woman!" A boy not a day older than 21 walked in from the back door. Sasha hated the smirk on his face. "What do you want?" Belwa said. His voice had no trace of a typical accent. For all Sasha knew, he could be a college drop out doing this for the joy of adventure and greed for quick money.

"You know what am I here for" Sasha said.

"Yes. Who is the person and how do you want him dead?"

Sasha placed an envelope at the edge of the bed. "Open this only after I am gone"

"Why madam? Have you put a love letter for me in here?" chuckled Belwa. The caterpillar joined him.

"This is the cash." Sasha took out a big envelope of money, ignoring the men.

 "This is the maximum I can give you. Kill her however you want,whenever you want -- within this week. Shoot her, drown her, poison her. I don't care. Just don't get caught. If you did, I will refuse to admit anything."

"Her eh? Who is she, your mother in law?" Belwa laughed again and so did the caterpillar.

"Will you do this or not?"

"Arey Madam, this is a child's play for me. Go home now. A girl like you should not be seen in a place like this. Your enemy does not exist any more."

Belwa turned to the caterpillar. "Lakhan, ask Jamal to drop madam in his auto."

Even after such a statement , Sasha did not want to spend a minute around these men. "Don't bother. I'll manage." She mumbled.

Belwa looked at Sasha with a fixed gaze as if he was not used to be disagreed. "At least walk her till the main road." Belwa said as he opened a bottle of water kept at the foot of the bed.

"Come", said Lakhan.

Head held down and bag still clutched tightly, Sasha followed the caterpillar.


                                                                                                     .......to be continued

Shit people say -- Day 9

Here are a few things that people have said to me, in real life. Some are stupid, some are outrageously stupid. I have tried to rank them but the ranking is purely subjective. Feel free to rank them according to what you think is the shittiest.


7) College Classmate: I screwed my papers. I am really scared of the results.
Me : So Am I.
Classmate : But you are a girl.
Me : So? To the examiner I am just a roll number
Classmate : Yes, but if you fail and don't get a job, it will still be okay
Me : Why? Because I can marry someone rich? Isn't failing and passing about an individual student and not about boys and girls?
Classmate : Sorry, I didn't mean it in the wrong way.

Actually, I am with this guy on this one. If stereotypes put women under pressure to "look pretty", it also puts the men under the scanner to "earn well" or one labelled a loser. So although I scared him away with my feminism movement, I did understand his worries.


6) Random aunty at Delhi airport (whom I knew 20 seconds ago ) : How much do you earn?
Me (Surprised, shocked) : Not much.
Aunty : My son's package is 20 Lakhs. How much is yours?
Me : I think I will sit near the terminal gate. Happy Journey!

More about this story -- I was moving base from Delhi to Bangalore and was on call talking to a friend saying my good byes. When I hung up, the aunty who was obviously eavesdropping, asked me where I was going. When I said Bangalore -- to work, her very next question was what I stated above. So when I say I knew her for 20 seconds, I am not exaggerating.

5) Friend (Looking at a rather effeminate colleague) *Whispers* : I think he is 'that'
Me : Huh? "that' what?
Friend : That ya ... You know what I mean
Me : So say it out loud (Sorry, no twilight references intended). 'Gay' is not a bad word!
Friend :  *Rolls Eyes* Ya Ya!!

4) An annoying relative : How much do you earn?
Me : Enough to survive
Relative (Making a face) : Oh look at the answer "Enough to survive"
Relative (To my father): You made a huge mistake by educating this one.
Me : *Goes to check what century are we living in*

3) Someone : Girls should stay away from taking decisions about business and money. You people should let us men handle such things.

Me : *Runs to check what century are we living in*

2) Colleague : We lost the match because of Anushka Sharma.
Me: (to self) Don't lose your calm ..it is okay.
Me (To Him) : "How? She was not supposed to play, Virat was"
Colleague : Yes, But whenever there is a guy's girlfriend around, then he would want to impress her. He played that stupid shot like a hero -- proved himself to be a fool. Yes, she should not have come. He could have concentrated better.

So I am guessing the next time this guy does not get a good rating in his appraisal, he will blame his girl friend.


1) Me : Did you hear about the guy who was gay and married a woman and now wants separation?
Friend : Seriously, at least he should have got himself treated.
Me : Huh? Treated for? Being gay is not a disease, you know that, don't you?
Friend : No, you are mistaken. When there is a problem in the hormones, one turns gay.
Me : *facepalm*

The open cupboard -- Day 8

"Shivansh !! " Anu shouted, slamming the cupboard close.

No answer.

"Shivansh, Will you learn how to close the cupboard only after I get hit with it?" No answer yet.

"Am I talking to the walls here?" Anu said, walking out of the room. frowning.

'Yes, you are'. Said the voice in her head.

'Admit it'.

"No" She said , out loud.

'He is gone. Stop pretending'.

Anu felt herself going weak as she stumbled to find something to sit on. She sat on the arm of the huge sofa in her living room.Pressing her lips together, she tried to blink away the tears.

'Cry Anu, it is okay'.

"No it's not"

'Anu, Shivansh is not here. He cannot come here, even if you want, even if he wants'.

"Stop it!" "Stop it,stop it,stop it"!. Anu said, as her face contracted in a wince. She held her head as if trying to stop the thoughts. More than anything, she wanted the voices in her head to stop nagging her, reminding her the truth.

She does not remember crying after she was told about the accident. There were always reasons. There was always something to be done - the cremation to be arranged, the relatives to manage, the death certificate to be collected -- since that day, she had always been busy. She carried out everything like they were just usual chores one is supposed to do. "She is so strong" People wold whisper as she crossed them. she pretended as if she did not hear them. Little did they know she was as strong as a house of cards in a storm.

The day every body had left was the day silence took over. She could now clearly hear the voice.

'Sit down , give yourself the time to mourn. You need it.'

"What I need is -- you not sitting inside my head giving me instructions on how to live" Anu almost raised her voice.

It was easy in office. She could close her ears -- Start talking to a colleague, work an hour late, attend that unnecessarily extra meeting. At home however, the voice would take over again.

'You should wallow. Cry. Stop acting'.

"How!!" Anu said, still sitting on the arm of the sofa. "Who can say he is not here?"

'Stop leaving the cupboard door opened like he did, to begin with'.

"Yes, he would always forget that." She smiled at the memory. She knew she was talking to herself, she was talking to an empty room. But she needed to speak, to talk.

"Look, his helmet is still where he left it last, his t-shirts still crumpled up in the laundry bag. His passport, documents, marksheets --his shaving kit. They are all here like somebody used them only this morning. How do I accept that he is gone?"

'He is gone Anu -- because he is not here to leave the cupboard door open anymore. He is not here to fight over a remote control during the IPL season. He is not going to hug you anymore, to run his fingers through your hair. He is not here to tell you how beautiful you look or how lovely your dress is -- he is not here to insist on how lucky he is to have you --even though you used to argue otherwise. He leaves his memories with you, his touch. Remember him so that he helps you live Anu. Denying his death is denying his memories, denying all the wonderful days you spent together. Give him the respect he deserves.'

Anu never realised when her eyes turned into puddles of tears. She did not realize when she slipped from the arm of the sofa to the ground. But she knew that she needed to wallow, like her voice said.

When she was done, Anu walked towards her room. She crossed the cupboard, but then walked back . She opened the door of the cupboard and left it as it is. "One day -- just one more day, I pretend that you are still here"

Crying her heart out didn't relieve her of the constant pain she felt in her chest. But she was able to smile.

To the moon and back -- Day 7

When I see it from a distance, I see a white, half spherical unknown world, hanging in our sky. The child in me wants to believe that there is magic there – that there is indeed the grand mom, who spins her tales. They say sometimes, her tales slip away from her and find themselves on earth. Have you seen something magical happen in front of you? Have you ever caught a fleeting sight of a tiny little shadow that runs past you or a bright blue flower that blooms and then goes back? Those are her stories. If you have not seen them, keep looking. You might just find a story lurking around you!

The child in me tugs my sleeves once again. She wants me to write about fairies and pixies living on the moon. The grown up me knows it in not true. But just to humour her, I write. Yes, I want to believe that there are fairies and pixies and gnomes and all the goodness that live on the moon. Maybe there is an enchanted forest with a faraway tree right in the middle. I can go on and on, but imagination is endless. How do I cover it in mere words?

The poet in me looks at the moon with large eyes. What it is, she wonders – because a poet never sees the world as it is. She never sees a flower. She sees molten rainbows on green branches. She never sees the rains. She sees the tear drops of a sad cloud. She sees an orange evening and a yellow afternoon. She looks at the stars and tell me they are nothing but sprinkled sugar crystals. But when she looks at the moon, she falls silent. She stares at it, in wonder and amazement. She says it looks like a boiling vessel of milk, but she is not sure. It can also be the giant’s yo yo ball, she says.

“You speak like a child. Sometimes, I cannot tell you apart”, I complain. She smiles, “Is there a difference?”

The lover in me stares at the sky. She smiles – not a happy smile. At least we share the same sky when we are apart, we share the same moon. She goes silent quickly. I think she is thinking of him again. I leave her with her thoughts.

Of Bad Characters -- Day 6

The soul of a story is in its characters. Think about it. Harry Potter, Arya Stark, Jane Eyre, Elizabeth Bennet,Ram Shankar Nikumbh, Coach Kabir Khan. Good characters make good story. The opposite is true too. I wanted to write about a really bad character I came across. Thankfully, it was not a book. It was a movie. It wasn’t even a good movie. It had bad actors. Why did I watch it, is a post that I will never write. Have you heard of Apne? It starred the whole Deol family and Shilpa Shetty.

I am sure many of you must have not seen the movie. For your benefit, I will narrate the story here. I will try to make it as less painful as possible but bear with me here.

Dharmendra is a boxer who is charged with doping charges, insulted and kicked out of some world boxing tournament. This hurts his pride and he swears to come back with a vengeance. Back home he has 2 boys. One day in anger, the elder one who is Sunny Deol, throws something huge on a man, because they are a debt ridden family and the guy insults his mother. However the throw hits his younger brother-Bobby Deol. His right arm gets affected and he suffers a handicap much like Mohnish Behl did in Hum saath saath hain. His hand is always in his pocket.

Anyway, So Dharmendra comes back and trains Sunny Deol to become the next world champion. Sunny Deol is good at it (Obviously – He is Sunny Deol) but since Boxing is not a popular sport like cricket, he does not see any financial growth from it and starts his own business. Dharmendra gets really pissed at him for quitting in between, disowns him and stops talking to him.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the world’s most selfish on screen father and the most idiotic character, besides being badly portrayed by an always seemed drunk Dharmendra.

This father is so hell bent on taking his revenge against the angrez, he forgets that his family is already under debt. The son establishes his own business, builds a house, gets the sister married but Dharmandra is still angry because his son did not do what he asked him to do. In return, when Sunny Deol tries to wave the white flag and calls for truce, Dharmendra tells him, “A house, sister’s marriage could have waited.” *Facepalm*

Enter a student, Aryan Vaid (I am surprised I remember the actor) Dharmandra sees immense potential in him and starts training him for the world championship. Dharmendra is extremely happy by the development. He starts treating Aryan as his own son. Just when you think things are fine, Aryan goes to Mumbai and finds himself another coach. This makes our old boxer mad with rage. He throws things, shouts “you ditched me, you ditched me”, cries and basically acts worse than a 17 year old obsessed teenager after a break up.

Now I understand he was not loyal to him. But the problem here is, our boxer guy had not taken his new student under his tutelage because he saw a talented young man. He took him because he saw a chance to redeem himself. Sports people change their coaches all the time. Obviously he will look for his development. But no, because Dharmendra did not see his benefit, he becomes mad and Aryan Vaid becomes the villain of the movie. This is like taking selfishness to a completely another level.

But there is more. In the scene where Dharam ji is throwing a fit in anger, his younger son Bobby deol comes to control him. In the heat of the moment, he holds his dad with both the hands – his one hand was handicapped..remember? Because Bollywood. So now Bobby deol wants to fulfill his Daddy’s dream by becoming a boxer. They take him to a doctor and start exercises to strengthen his arm. In one scene, Bobby Deol’s hand is super weak and he is sitting with Katrina Kaif (Who is a doctor by the way). Here are the almost dialogues:

Kat: Your hand has just healed. Don’t put them under so much pressure.
Bob: No, that’s fine. I want to fulfill my dad’s dream.
Dharmendra (who is slyly listening to this conversation) to Victor Banerjee: See! This is my son. He is ready to do anything for me.
Disclaimer: These are not the exact dialogues.

Thoughts in my head while I was watching this ridiculous scene – Your son has just recovered from a handicap that he was suffering from since his childhood. You started to push him the very moment his hand came out of that pocket. He is suffering because of you, he is not showing it to you and you are proud of it? Are you the worst dad or are you the worst dad ever!

The movie is bad but Dharmendra’s character makes it even worse (Not taking in account the bad acting by everyone)
So ya, don’t watch Apne. I watched it but as I said, I had my reasons. I am out of that phase. But I am in a new phase. The phase where I write something on this blog almost everyday –even when I don’t know what to write.

Tomorrow, I will come back again. Hopefully.

The voices in my head -- Day 5

Of course commitments are huge responsibilities. Although I kind of missed writing a post yesterday, I will make up for it – pretty soon. It has been an unexpectedly tiring weekend and tomorrow is going to be tiring again.

I lived a really embarrassing moment today. I am not sure if this happens with others, but I have a problem in me. If I see some person regularly, I build an acquaintance with them. In my head, I ‘know’ them. Of course, I am not supposed to know them because we have never met or spoken. I sometimes tend to forget that. I have a one smile relationship with a lot of people in office because of this exact reason. I see them almost every day, I give them a name in my head and when they cross me, I register them in my mind like any other acquaintance.

Back to the embarrassing moment-- it has 2 aspects. Here‘s the first one. Last year, I was extremely lucky to have attended a play called ‘Gasha’ – a story of a Kashmiri refugee. It is my favourite play so far. The story was brilliant, the direction amazing and the actors outstanding! The play was enacted by only 2 actors and one of the actors is called Sandip Shikhar. I have seen 2 plays by the same actor and I believe he frequents Ranga Shankara a lot because I have seen him there many times.

Moving on to the second aspect – I had gone to Atta Galata to visit a friend who is a poet, actor and a writer. Before I move on, here is a small addition to the facts. Whenever I visit this said friend, he always introduces me to someone new (Ya –he is a popular guy) —and I tend to get pretty confused the next time I meet them.

Anyway, this is how it happened -- I walked in Atta Galata, saw the friend, and as always greeted him. He gestured his hands towards the table to his right and said, “We have just wrapped up everything.” My head turned with his hand and I saw Sandip sitting there.

Conversations in my head that happened over a fraction of a second:
Voice 1: Very known face, I have seen him somewhere.
Voice 2 : You say it for almost everyone. The auto driver looked like a colleague to you.
Voice 1: Yes, but this time I am sure.
Voice 2: Someone we met at this friend’s house?
Voice 1 : Ya …. Maybe
Voice 1 and 2 : Hi bolde, baad main yaad aa he jayega kaun hai (atleast say a Hi, We will definitely remember who is he )
Me : (Looking at Sandip) Hey, Hi!!
Sandip (Sheepishly) :Hi (really meek hi)
Voice 1 and 2 : Oh damn he is that Gasha actor guy! What are the damage control strategies? Say something! Explain, talk!
Me: Oh I am sorry; I am not supposed to know you. I have seen your plays – Sorry!

Everyone else at the table has a hearty laugh.

Voice 1 and 2: Seriously?
Voice 3: Please go in the corner and behave as if you don’t exist.

I walked away, hoping to hide, probably camouflage myself inside a book shelf.

Yes, besides reading and watching movies, being socially awkward is something I excel at. Sigh!!

See you tomorrow!

The unconquered devil -- Day 4

While going through the news today, I read about the Mathematics and Physics board papers being really difficult. I have not been able to shake off the uneasiness from the article. That's how much I was terrorized of Maths. Even after a decade, when I learn that the paper was tough, I sweat. "What if I was there!" I think. I still get that queasy feeling, before an interview or before anything important in my life. I call that feeling "The pre-maths exam feeling"

To this date, I either blindly take the change given to me or turn to the husband with a questioning look. Every single time, he smiles and whispers the figures that I should get back. I never participate in splitting the bill and again, blindly hand over or accept whatever is the amount. Because, I know how futile the attempt to try would be. I still get confused with linear equations and mostly calculate the age of the mother to be lesser than the daughter. My father still laughs at that. Talking about my father, well, if I could pass any of those mathematics papers, it was all thanks to him. He would be after me , endlessly, tirelessly, helping me solve every single problem, understand every single logic and basically help me keep my head up to survive.

I used to hate those girls in my school who would get full marks in maths and although it is not a big deal or even unusual to get full marks in maths, for me, it was a completely unknown zone. How do they do it, I would wonder. Actually , no I would not hate the toppers, because unfortunately all these were my really good friends. I remember one annoying incident though. I guess it was 9th Standard. I was still a pretty decent student. Our mathematics teacher was called Girija Warrior. Yup! A warrior she was. She was actually a very sweet lady. Anyway, so after I believe the second terms, Girija warrior announces in the class, "Bad performance girls. No full score in this section this time. Only one girl got 99 and a half." I obviously did not bother about the second half of the information, but the first half rattled me. "How bad is this bad performance? I hope I pass!" After she dismissed the class, the girl I used to sit with, started crying.

"What happened?" I asked.
"What if I am not the one who got those 99 and a half?" She said, sobbing,

I am glad hitting each other in school was not taught to us. I mean, seriously girl? Here I am, worrying about scoring at least 40 on 100 and you are crying? like real tears out of your eyes on a what if? What if you don't get 99 and a half?

I turned. I didn't answer her, I didn't console her, I didn't talk to her. No. I hated such people then and I hate such people now. If you are extra ordinary and you know you are extra ordinary, please don't cry in front of an average student who struggles to pass. I mean I understand every one sets a standard for themselves and one gets disappointed if those standards are not met. But can you please take those high standards home and not scare already scared children?

I know! I know! It is unfair of me to blame her. After all she was a good student looking for perfection. She was crying out of fear, I don't know her situation, what if she was under tremendous pressure to perform blah blah --yes! I get it.

Anyway, I never got along with the nasty subject and I am glad I don't have to study it any more. Nor do I have to apply it except basic calculations. Seriously, what was the point of learning log tables and proving a theorem which said that 2 parallel lines meet at infinity? At least and thankfully I never had to use it. I am sure mathematicians find practical application of their knowledge. Good for them.

The news article opened a box of unpleasant, yet when-you-look-back-you-laugh memories.It also made me extremely extremely thankful. Thank God I am done with all this. Thank God I was not one among those students who gave the exams. Because I am thoroughly aware of how utterly torturous are those 3 hours when you know nothing in a paper. If any 12th standard student is reading this, all I can say is, from the bottom of my heart, I will pray for you. I know the pain.

Before I end this, that sobbing girl? She indeed got her 99 and a half. I remember her properly, I know her name. Of course I won't take it.

So this was day 4 of my blogging challenge and I hope it continues. Till then , if you, my reader want me to blog about something particular, please leave a few suggestions. I can surely use one!

Same old , Same old -- Day 3

My hands are hovering over the keyboard. This is what it feels like to not know,not having a freakin clue about what to write. Still hovering --
still clueless.

Now since I really don't know what to write, I will write about a topic that has been done to death in the last few days -- The AIB roast. What did I think of the roast? Well! I laughed! I did not think it was mind-blowingly brilliant nor did I think it was boring. Here is the deal with me. I don't find profanity funny. What I do rather find funny is how much people guffaw at the utterance of abusive words. "Why?" I shrug!! Whats the joke in that?

Having said that, I found some of the content pretty funny. So yes, as I said earlier, I had a good time watching the roast. Now here is why I feel the hungama over the AIB roast was unnecesarry-- this show was different from AIB's other shows only in the format and not so much in the content. If you have attended any of their royal turds show,or even if you have seen them on youtube , you will know that all their shows are highly abusive. When they are not making fun of volunteering film stars, they are making fun of random audience members. When I attended the Royal Turds in Bangalore, they caught hold of an audience member who wore a flash t-shirt. He was literally 'roasted' throughout the show by every single member of the group. So honestly, except the fact that this show was much more daring and the actors were physically present for the show, there was nothing new -- at least nothing shocking for people like me who follow these guys closely.

Talking about being funny, I really like how the stand up comedy scene is growing, at least in Bangalore. It is nice, once in a blue moon, to laugh at things that may or may not concern you. As far as taking offence goes, I have nothing new to say. One needs to learn to laugh at oneself. But where does one draw a line? Is there a line at all? What is that one tiny divide between insulting someone and "Hey! I was just kidding!" . If I say the most derogatory things to someone while laughing, is that okay? These are just a few questions that usually come to mind whenever this whole debate takes place. But if you are worried that these stand up acts are bad influence for your children because they use a couple of f-words, then don't lose your sleep over it. There are enough sources and more than enough exposure for a young mind to know stuff we never knew at that age.

Talking about stand up comics, I find Vipul Goyal and Sapan Verma really funny. This is an awesome to the power infinity video. I have seen this guy in real and he is seriously fantastic. This one by Sapan Verma is amazing. There are many other Sapan Verma videos that I love. Recently, I have a new favorite. This guy. His content is not just funny, it is thought provoking. I hope to see him live very soon! Oh and while we are talking about funny people, I would like to add my most favorite ones here . They are not stand ups but they are superb. The Viral Fever guys. These are the best out of the lot, hands down! If I ever meet them, I am going to say a heart felt thank you. These people have made me laugh in the saddest of my moods and though that never solves a problem, it does allow light to enter your room!

There are a lot of stand up comedians these days and trust me it is a good thing. Life is fucked up people! You are stuck in a job you hate with people you hate. You start a Monday morning only to wait for a Friday evening. You wonder what will become of you in a few years. The money is always less and the expenditure always a bit more. Many reasons to frown, only a few to smile. These funny gentlemen help you increase those moments. Do yourself a favor. Laugh!

Running Away -- Day 2

I have always wanted to run away -- to a place where no one bothers. To a place that is an escape, that is breathtaking beautiful.
I want to pack a bag with the bare minimum and flee off. To a place where serenity covers the surroundings like a blanket.
I want to sit on a rock in the middle of a white stream. I want to breathe the dampness around.
I want to cry. Yes , I do. I want to cry because Rashmi ma'am hit me with a scale when I was not even the one who disturbed her class. But she won't listen.
I want to cry because they say I am not enough. Not good enough, not pretty enough, not talented enough.
I want to cry for every single time I pushed my tears back, blinked and smiled.
I want to finish my due.
And when I am done, I want to feel light.
I want to feel as if I can fly. I want to close my eyes and feel the air caressing me, running its fingers through my hair, like a lover scared of touching me too much and yet wanting to.
And then I want to laugh. Just because.
There should not be a reason to laugh. A person should not be labelled mad because he is just plain fucking happy with no reason.
I want my eyes to sparkle -- I want them to have the star in my stare. I want the won in a wonderful life and the live in being alive.

Taking the plunge ... Day 1

I have always been scared of commitments. I have always been excited about them , but they are scary. But then, they say -- do what you are afraid of. So that's what I am here for. I am here to make a commitment. From today, everyday for one month, I am going to write a post here. Phew!! Scary! I don't even know what am I going to write. But all I know is that I need to do this. I needed to do something big, to promise something almost impossible, to get myself started or rather restarted.

Here goes nothing!

I almost never write movie reviews. I am not going to write one even now. What follows though are my thoughts that were racing through my head while I watched NH10. First things first. All the actors are fantastic. Anuskha Sharma is really really good. If you want to see how good the actor is, look at their eyes. Anushka Sharma's eyes in the movie spoke when she mouthed no dialogues. There is one scene in the movie where she sits in the ladies room to smoke. Meera, the character she plays, is already under stress. She scans the door of the washroom and sees profanity written on the doors of the washroom -- a fact very common in India. She stares at the words with a look that says , "When will this ever stop!". It is not anger, it is not on your face , roll your eyes irritation. It is just a disappointed angry look. It is amazing.

Neil Bhoopalam plays Anushka's husband and although the actor was amazing but sorry the character was a jerk! No seriously! He is the reason they get into trouble and basically the reason the movie happens. Now when I shared the same thought with my husband, here is what he had to say , "Ab kahani kahin se toh aage badhani padegi na" (They have to move the story from somewhere!) Yes but no. I believe they could have given a much better reason for the story to move ahead. The way the story panned out, it more seemed like the protagonists' doing. It felt more like, "Well! It was their fault!" Now before people jump their guns , here is the reason why I say so .

(Major spoilers ahead!! It is not a suspense story and probably one can gauge the whole movie through the promos. So there is nothing to spoil but I am going to reveal a major scene of the story. If you have not seen the movie and don't want to know what is it, I suggest you stop reading now. However, if you don't care or if you have seen the movie, go ahead. There ! You have been warned!)

The trouble begins when our protagonists see a woman being dragged by a couple of men. Arjun (Neil) is the only man who stands up to these goons. That is very brave and I love brave men. Now these men do not want any one's involvement and they shoo away Arjun. Arjun tries to argue with them again. Darshan Kumar, the head of the gang, then punches Arjun and goes away. This is what pisses off Arjun. Not that he failed in saving a woman being dragged on a bright day in full view of everyone -- he is pissed off because he was punched. It hurts his ego. (I know this for sure because he confirms this in a dialogue later too) He goes behind them with a licensed gun and soon realizes that they are too dangerous. So he chickens out! This then triggers a chain of events and then happens whatever is supposed to happen.

Do you see the trouble here? Of course the situation presented was extremely risky. What does one do when one sees a situation like this? Personally, I know I will hide a girl in my house running away from goons if I know I will not be found out. But will I butt in a sensitive matter like the one in the movie? I am not sure! Because like many onlookers I am a pathetic citizen who fails in front of a group of insensitive men who do not think twice before killing someone. But Meera and Arjun get into trouble because his freaking ego was punched. He retaliates in anger and not out of righteousness. In a place like Delhi/Gurgaon , one usually knows better.

Now that we have this out of the way, let us focus on the good points again. One -- NH10 shows a real believable world. well, almost. NH10 is a story of a real India. People who decorate their godrej almirah with stickers, working girls who face snarky comments in office, a couple who chit chat about "nothing really" but still do. I loved the realness of NH10. Exactly the reason why a bollywoodish twist dampened my spirits again. What are the odds of Anushka ending up at the goon's place looking for help? Reason? Because Bollywood.

Thankfully the songs were in background and the end? Oh the end! I loved the end. It drags you to the edge of your seat and forces you to stare at the screen with your mouth open. It makes you want to throw away all the fear you have in your minds. It makes you want to be brave.

Conclusively, NH10 did not make it to my list of "wow" movies. But someday, when I am in a mood to see good performances, I will re-watch it.