My friends got used to these blurted out utterings as it was part of my BollyHollymusicalitis. Many stays over at my house, they all were converted to Bollywoodism, in my grade 12 year I attempted to make a short film that naturally was all Bollywood, I wrote the silly script which was soo convoluted and abound in cliches. This film was a fluke as I got lazy, actors were unavailable, but mostly I got lazy.
But my filmi nationalism continued to come out in my Creative Writing class which I got my first consecutive A for each of the three terms! Alas filmi nationalism didnt extend to science and maths which I was terrible at! To put all this rambling to a stop, here is some of the filmi poems that I wrote back then! They are horrendously cheeesy and not that great, but i couldn't not post my silly years!
Funky music, the buuurrrrning traainn, coos Asha
On this Super Express to somewhere
3 heroes, destinies intertwined on this blazing train
One clad in a Travolta suit, following the heiress
Gold jewels and gem of a girl, he wants
A handsome rogue, clap goes his energetic hands
Drumming on his knees and between the aisles,
What a handsome rogue is he
Here he comes, cigarrette dangling, ooff go the women on the train
Who is he? A macho man, lovesick by his unfaithful wife
Passengers he charms, children he saves, and women swoon for him
Admonishing the villain, youuuu son of a baastarrdd
Speaking in english, he commands the audience with laughter
Dharam gets garam, running through fire to save all
The train is blazing and burning, only an intelligent hero can help
Bellbottom clad, with swagger in walk and knowlegable talk
Vinod, explain what to do, save your son on the fuming train
Three heroes unite in silver suits warring against fire
Useless servants that left gas on, the cause of this catastrophe
Silver suits kick away at the villain
Falling to his death on the traintracks
Hugs, and chest hugs returned as the Super Xpress burns away
Women swoon in thanks, men gruffly congratulate
Thank you our sexy silver suited saviours!
Dark hair glistening and blowing in the wind
Her arms outspread in the field
Golden ghungroos stamping at the earth,
She spins like a delicate cotton wheel (crossed out was cow bell, how ddlj!)
A name she whispers to the air
The feet marching to her heartbeat
Words form, 3 magical words, just admit it
The sea is his drink
Cleaning his dhoti, sipping the poison from the bottle
Chanting the last rites of his soul
Proclaiming the only name, he knew
The courtesan performing her mujra
Ghungroos stamping, arms flailing
Blood dripping, alcohol sipping
Death approaching him by the gutter
Creeping into the dark night
Laying her life at his feet
He turns away, ashamed
And into Kolkatta he runs
In a place of filth, a prince lies
Escaping his soul mate
A love so true can’t be found again
He is my Dev-da
Her breaths are his
Her heart is his
Her pride is his
Her devotion to her diya
His death is hers
Where is she?
Where is Paro?
Where can I find her?
Will she love me?
Can I say sorry to her?
Of course
All in this bottle
Three breaths left in him
Among the filth he lives
Lying on this marble floor
Two breaths left in him
Ohh why wait till now for the truth?
An arm baring his identity
His heart bears only one name
One breath left
Paro...
Am I a coconut?
In the middle of the fence is a coconut
Too much, rock music and grungy looks
Too little Lata, Asha, Usha playing
Sooo many boys leaving my room
Sooo few Indian ones?
Small sneakouts to curfew breaking parties
Small meetings with good Southall girls
Less Saira Banu eyeliner or mini skirts
Less kurtas and lenghas are worn
Always with a gang of goras
Always ignoring your own kind
Which side will it fall, the mud or the sugar
More gym going, diet watching
More ladoos and gulab jamuns to be eaten
Ample breasts to be stared at
Ample time to buy turtlenecks
Few good reports from school
Few C-‘s and D’s on the destiny deciding paper
Big cars, Bhangra blaring, bass jumping
Big beemers, crackly Sunrise radio
Fat arms, bigger than your average
Fat chance of fitting in this sari blouse
Wads of cash from the job at Boots
Wads of cash could come from Auntyji’s newsagent
The coconut still on the fence, where to go?
Lots of mobiles, texting the mates, sending saucy pictures
Lots of Auntyji’s checking the dowry rates
Legions of boys asking for snogs in the parks
Legions of men viewing wife material
Tons of concerts, dancing among the vibrations
Tons of drunken uncles singing with no hesitation
Many drunken nights of haze and fun
Many days till you can have Shivas Regal
Gobs full with sweets and paan on birthdays
Gobs shoved with cake, hand fed from everyone in the room
Not in the mud, the sugar won’t recognize it
Mass numbers of people gathered at the bar
Mass numbers in year 12 Calculus
Many a body piercing and tattoo adorned in secret places
Many a look of shame from Auntyji’s in the street
Excess assimilation into the Western world
Excess traditions of the Eastern world
A lot of happiness in arty jobs
A lot of smug cousins in science, look with disdain
Hordes of whistling and whooping boys
Hordes of uncleji’s giving winks and pinches
Not in the sugar, the mud would shun it
Heaps of time to travel the world
Heaps of time in uni to be a lawyer doctor newsagent!
Loads of club hopping, bhangra gig going
Loads of intelligent books to be read
Only Bollywood films being researched
Only one facet of your Indianess
Coconuts under palm trees, on an Ibiza beach
Coconuts smashed to mark arrivals at doors
Coconuts at every doorstepCoconuts sitting on walls, forever in mud and in sugar
Define skinny, define big, define plus size
Dirty looks, snide whispers, cruel laughter
Your perception is every girl’s demise
Magazines shoved in my face, that is you
I am normal, just bigger than the average
Define skinny, define big, define plus size
Why am I scorned and given that look
Because I am big, chunky, buxom, fat?
Your perception is every girl’s demise
Flabby arms, big breasts, wide hips, jiggly thighs
Must I be a size zero to look sexy, fit in any clothes?
Define skinny, define big, define plus size
Sizes don’t matter, it’s the feeling of sexy, the feeling of beautiful
A look of amazement and shock from boys and spectators
Your perception is every girl’s demise
I am sexy and beautiful revelling in my bigness
Words are just words; fat is just a word not my label
Your perception is every girl’s demise
Define skinny, define big, and define plus size