There is an explosion, a disturbance throbs through the air, and the chase is on! Yes, reader, I saw Dhoom 3 on the big screen and I cannot think of a better way of enjoying a holiday afternoon with my family. I have previously waxed exuberantly about the magic of Hindi movies, and I am reassured that that magic has not waned as I get older.
As a girl, I remember the excitement that flooded the pit of my stomach at the prospect of a film outing, especially if a large number of people were to join in. During vacations, the afternoon or morning shows were preferred, and during regular school days, we went for night shows. The entire day ended up revolving around these outings, even when we had other things going on, other treats. We had consultations about wardrobes, who might say what, who would sit next to whom, and conjectures about what possible plot lines could lead up to the songs we all knew by then, thanks to the Binaca Geet Mala on the radio. Buying snacks at the theatre was out of question; those snacks would be prohibitively, exorbitantly priced. But perhaps, we could go for bhel or other spicy-sour-irresistible street food after the film. Oh the possibilities of how the outing could turn out were endless! Who knows what adventures awaited us in the unpredictable, electrifying hustle-bustle of the city streets and cinema halls! We wanted to be prepared for it all!
As I grew up, I promised myself I'd bloom into this sophisticate, for whom a film outing would be no big deal, nothing to be excited about; such excitement was for silly young girls, who had no real "life" to speak of. I had plans for my "life," which would be scintillating and sparkling with all manner of unimaginably brilliant things. Hindi films would pale, I promised myself.
Last week, when I went for Dhoom 3, I realized that this was one of the many promises I'd broken to myself. I could not resist the excitement that flooded over, unexpectedly. Of course, since I am no longer the dashing thrill-seeker, I do pray that no unexpected adventure awaits me on the streets or cinema hall. But when the chase is on, I find myself on the edge of my seat; I love the surprises splashed on the large screen; I do not need the screen to be 3-D to get fully immersed in the movie.
There are a few selves I wear, which help me live most fully. The un-aging self in the cinema house is one of these selves. It is well-known that those who read, get to live a thousand alternate lives; I would contend that the same is true of those who love the movies!
On this last day of the year, try out an unfamiliar self; go to the cinema theatre! Find a motorcycle you'd never ride, navigate vectors you could never balance or control, swing behind the screen to discover an unforeseen, amazing reality; who knows what astonishing, electrifying adventure awaits a half-forgotten imagined self?
As a girl, I remember the excitement that flooded the pit of my stomach at the prospect of a film outing, especially if a large number of people were to join in. During vacations, the afternoon or morning shows were preferred, and during regular school days, we went for night shows. The entire day ended up revolving around these outings, even when we had other things going on, other treats. We had consultations about wardrobes, who might say what, who would sit next to whom, and conjectures about what possible plot lines could lead up to the songs we all knew by then, thanks to the Binaca Geet Mala on the radio. Buying snacks at the theatre was out of question; those snacks would be prohibitively, exorbitantly priced. But perhaps, we could go for bhel or other spicy-sour-irresistible street food after the film. Oh the possibilities of how the outing could turn out were endless! Who knows what adventures awaited us in the unpredictable, electrifying hustle-bustle of the city streets and cinema halls! We wanted to be prepared for it all!
As I grew up, I promised myself I'd bloom into this sophisticate, for whom a film outing would be no big deal, nothing to be excited about; such excitement was for silly young girls, who had no real "life" to speak of. I had plans for my "life," which would be scintillating and sparkling with all manner of unimaginably brilliant things. Hindi films would pale, I promised myself.
Last week, when I went for Dhoom 3, I realized that this was one of the many promises I'd broken to myself. I could not resist the excitement that flooded over, unexpectedly. Of course, since I am no longer the dashing thrill-seeker, I do pray that no unexpected adventure awaits me on the streets or cinema hall. But when the chase is on, I find myself on the edge of my seat; I love the surprises splashed on the large screen; I do not need the screen to be 3-D to get fully immersed in the movie.
There are a few selves I wear, which help me live most fully. The un-aging self in the cinema house is one of these selves. It is well-known that those who read, get to live a thousand alternate lives; I would contend that the same is true of those who love the movies!
On this last day of the year, try out an unfamiliar self; go to the cinema theatre! Find a motorcycle you'd never ride, navigate vectors you could never balance or control, swing behind the screen to discover an unforeseen, amazing reality; who knows what astonishing, electrifying adventure awaits a half-forgotten imagined self?
Your excitement about Hindi movies shows that you are still a girl at heart. I, too, at my age love to watch Hindi movies. Of course, I don't get excited like you do at the prospect of going for a movie. Loved it.
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading this!
ReplyDelete