Pride and Prejudice: The Musical

When I last posted on this blog, I was sure I would be working on Bollyviewer’s posts immediately to keep this blog alive and importantly, for myself, to remain connected with the blogging world, a connection that I have enjoyed via Bollyviewer all these years. It was easier said than done! Not wanting to face that sense of loss, which intensified every time I opened one of her incomplete posts, I preferred to distract myself with the demands of routine life – work and family. Which only made it more difficult to start with again. That was until a few weeks ago, when I received a mail from Anu, asking how I was. That little message, a reminder of the world that I have more or less disconnected from in the last year, but which I realize I have been missing, has given me the push to start again. Thank you, Anu!

So, here is one of the posts that Bollyviewer was working on and on which we had had lots of fun discussing, even through her illness.

Perhaps you might think, as did I, that Pride and Prejudice has been done to death in films and series. There are so many versions of this (longtime favorite of ours) story, on celluloid, that the plot now appears staid and repetitive; and the dialogues are so well known, that the words seem to have lost meaning. Well, then you haven’t contended with Bollyviewer’s take on it. And I am not talking about the fantasy casting coup that she and our youngest sister carried out earlier, with some really interesting contributions from the readers, but about Pride and Prejudice: The “Bollywood” Musical.

Bollyviewer lives on!

By Bollyspektator

Dear readers of Masala Punch, Bollyviewer is no more. My sister and founder of this and a previous blog (Old is Gold) died in February as a consequence of cancer. Bollyviewer was so full of life and so interested in observing and participating in its ups and downs, that it is difficult for me to accept that I will no longer be talking with her or hearing her beautifully acidic comments on the world and its stories. It is difficult to accept that I will no longer be having fun, discussing Bollywood movies with her or hear her planning for her next blog post. Because yes, although she had not been posting actively on this blog in the last years, she was still full of plans for her future posts. Bollyviewer had so much more to say to the world and to hear from the blogging community, where she had found kindred souls and formed deep attachments. Thank you dear Anu, dear Madhu for the heart-warming tributes to Bollyviewer.

Bollyviewer enjoyed her life but she was also a realist and knew when the end was near. Her only sorrow then was that she was not allowed to end her life with dignity, at a moment of her choosing, but had to endure as it slowly and painfully drained away.

Zindagi, hasne gaane ke liye hai pal, do pal…

In the last year Bollyviewer and I had started with some posts, which I hope to share in the coming weeks and months. For now, here is one of her old posts, which I had enjoyed a lot. She had created this whole post after I happened to remark that the movie seemed full of “gobhi ke parathe”!

Lessons on unrequited love from Hindi masala movies

Guest post by BollySpektator

While I love blogging, in the past few years I’ve found it very hard to write. There are multiple unfinished posts on my hard drive, and I have little energy to complete them.  So when my younger sister offered to write a post for me, I jumped at the chance! She wrote this months ago, and has been wondering when her post will be published. So without further ado, over to BollySpektator. Hope this is the first of many of her posts….

I recently watched the movie Ae Dil Hai Mushkil (ADHM) and it made me think. Yes, really. What if the movie-makers had given the vacant characters a real life? What if these characters had jobs or were shown to care about something other than themselves? What if they hadn’t chopped off Fawad Khan’s role? Would the film have touched a chord with me then?

Guest post: Makeover of the filmi doormats

Dear readers, I have been very tardy about writing new posts, lately. (It’s mostly the fault of the hot Delhi summer which makes it very uncomfortable to use my laptop.) So, when Ruchi, a regular Masala Punch reader, told me of her tragic encounter with a doormat (of the reel type), I immediately spotted a blog post in her and made every effort to encourage her writing. In the end, it turned out to be a joint effort, since neither of us had the time or the energy to do all the research on our own. Today we have for you a list of five filmi doormats and how we wish they had turned out. Over to Ruchi: 

I still remember the days when I was completely hooked on to Dhoop Kinarey, a Pakistani tele-serial that held my imagination with the brilliant romance of the impetuous Zoya with the oh so serious Ahmer Ansari. So when I recently came across a ‘new’ (new for me i.e.) Pakistani tele-serial on You Tube – Humsafar – which had apparently been a hit in Pakistan, I was immediately interested. The beautiful Khirad (Mahira Khan) and her blossoming romance with the handsome Asher (Fawaad Khan), the understated melodrama, so unlike what the likes of Ekta Kapoor are dishing out on the Indian TV screen, was seductive. So what if Khirad had a tendency to cry every episode, she was khuddar (self-respecting), we knew that from the very first episode. And anyway she did cry with such panache that you just had to admire it. And yes, Asher couldn’t stand up to his manipulative father but you can’t quibble with every tiny thing! The story had to start somewhere!