Robinson’s choice

I wake up everyday, to blue skies and sunshine. This island doesn’t know the meaning of bad weather.

It helps to wake up to bright light every day, unlike England – dark, gloomy and brooding, always making my moods worse.

Mother must probably be crying her eyes out everyday – I feel a pang of guilt at the thought. I doubt Father cries, though he might feel bad – I think. Selena and Brian too. They must think of me…but I think that their thoughts may be spurred by the way in which I’ve disappeared – and less to do with me, myself.

After all, in all the time that I was there, all I ever heard them do was complain about how shiftless I was or how downcast or how pessimistic. What is that new-fangled saying? My glass is always half empty.

Over the years, I tired of it. It’s hard enough being me, it’s hard enough waking up and going through each day and the cumbersome waltzes human society puts in place – but add to that the crushing expectation of having to be like that Pollyanna woman all that time?

When I heard of the ship’s departure, I knew I had to seize my chance. I boarded, bribed the captain, and told him to tell everyone I was lost in a pirate skirmish. When we landed on this island, his crew helped knock up a house and a garden for fresh vegetables, left me with supplies and a flare kit – and left.

A year later, the captain came by – to check on me. And with him came new books, new supplies and more. I’ve willed my estate in Brazil to him as payment. And his son started the tradition this year.

I’ve been here 14 years. And I haven’t regretted it once.
I wake up, I tend my garden, I read my books, I write. I walk around the island four or five times a day.
No one accuses me of being a fusspot. Or a pessimist. Or unhumourous. Or uncouth.
Here, I am perfect.

Film opens on…

#chatswithpeople #chatswithkaranjohar #longread #spoilers #chatsaboutmovies

My imaginary chat with Karan Johar about #AeDilHaiMushkil.
(Imaginary Karan Johar – iKJo)

*Warning: spoilers ahead if you haven’t seen the movie!*

Me: hello! Hi, Karan Johar! I’m sorry, I chloroformed your guards to slip into your home.
iKJo: it’s fine. You’re not even the first one today. Do you want your 375 rupees for Ae Dil Hai Mushkil back? Here’s 500 bucks, keep the change.

Me: err… thanks. But that’s not what I’m here for.
iKJo: then give me back the money.
Me: no.
iKJo:…………………………………God. Middle class people. What do you want?

Me: career advice. And life advice.
iKJo: why ME?
Me: yep. 100 crores in 4 days? Another hit even though your scriptwriter basically looped the first 10 pages for a three-hour movie?
iKJo: I wrote this script.
Me: see? Genius. You got this, bro.

iKJo: fine. FINE. What do you want?
Me: what’s the secret to a long career?
iKJo: reinvention! I re-invented the campus, the parent-loving-trap, infidelity, and now, I’ve reinvented the love triangle as a love conga line!
Me: love conga line?
iKJo: everyone is in love with the person in front and no one is happy—
Me: especially the audience.
iKJo: quiet. Next!

Me: how should I handle rejection in love? Do you sneakily report every action of your ex-love’s to FB and cause mini-traumas every day?
iKJo: bloody amateur. No. You make a huge movie, go to London, Paris, Vienna and Lucknow-
Me: those places always come together smirk
iKJo: even in your imagination, do not interrupt me, okay?
Me: er…sorry.
iKJo: AS I was saying, you make a huge movie, go to London, Paris, Vienna and Lucknow, you help stylists and set decorators MAKE their portfolios, repurpose a bunch of old songs, show endless rejection and aggression, and then you REVENGE being friendzoned in glorious, Casa Vogue-worthy colour.

iKJo: don’t look at me like that, you’re imagining this conversation based on a movie you saw.

Me: true. But don’t you worry about unrealistic portrayals and depictions by showing poetesses, I’m sorry, FAILED poetesses living in Vienna mansions and the like?
iKJo: no.

Me:………………………………..okay then. Next question. How should I ask my boss for a raise?
iKJo: what’s a raise?
Me: you know, when I want more money at my job?
iKJo: what’s a job?
Me: ah. Um. You know, as in ‘dress for the job you want, not the job you have?’
iKJo: dress I understand.

Me:………….right. anyway, okay, how do I know when to move on when a romantic relationship has failed?
iKJo: you don’t move on. No doesn’t mean NO. It just means yes, please ask again, and again, and again, and scream at and choke and shove the person till they tell you what’s wrong with you and do it all over again and again till they die.
Me:………gosh, where DID I put that chloroform?

iKJo: anyway, listen I must go now. A private jet is waiting. If you’re depressed in life, just push off to Paris and start singing old Hindi songs and dancing.
Me: amongst the FRENCH? Les Miserables?
iKJo: listen, ALL foreigners start doing Bollywood steps when Hindi music starts playing. They especially love dancing backup.

Me: hmmmm. Okay. Listen speaking of international things, how can we get back Fawad Khan? Seriously? Please? Seeing him regularly will make my, I mean, the lives of many Indian women much better.
iKJo: it’s my next script. Or what you think is my next script. A spy thriller against a backdrop of a wedding in London-Paris-Milan, where the spy, clearly Fawad, poses as the groom and lands in India via honeymoon in Switzerland and then falls in love and never goes back.
Me: wow! I know this is all imaginary but can I get paid for this script idea?
iKJo: sure. Here, take a mansion in Vienna!