Monday, February 05, 2007

baloney ishq

I wonder if film writers stop, before titling their work, to consider the number of people who will associate said title incongruously with a sandwich meat, and whether this percentage is ever considered to be large enough to do any damage to perceptions of the film. I wonder if this is why so many people seem prejudiced against Salaam e Ishq? Once again, though, I find myself in the enviable position of being opposed to such entities as Shobha De who appear to have hated the film: I loved it. Nay, I adored it. I’m going back to watch it again whenever I can. It was so hilarious and good-looking that I could have endured it for much longer than its four-hour running time.

What can I say? If I am the sole depraved champion of the idea that a complete lack of ambition can be amusing, so be it. Perhaps it is my inner twelve-year-old, the one that spent an age for baubles and Ricky Martin posters in serious contemplation of topics suitable for religious, demure maids, that is reacting to its overlong repression. Perhaps I was just overly impressed by the humanly-proportioned beauty of Vidya Balan (Tehzeeb, what a lovely name! For a non-Lucknowi, of course.)?

P.S. Of course, you know, I had a Ricky Martin poster.


  1. haha... I had a Ricky Martin thing too... who am I kidding, I still do

  2. You have a fertile mind. I hope your body is similarly blessed.