Charging to Neutrality

The final few days of my college, n I (among waif pee-pill, with no or may be a negative sense of humour, minus sportsmanship, minus brains), numb n nascent as if following the code of conduct of the flotsam, potionless, n stagnant mood of the same was dying to find, some change, some color, some flourishing talent, some growing bud, something, anything rising. That was the time, I heard (n that wsa the only source of recreation to me) of this movie called "Bheja Fry".

Now, after fatal encounters with turd-frames like "Maalamal Weekly", "Apna Sapna Money Money", n disappointment of the yr "Honeymoon Travels Pvt. Ltd.", I could not, for the sake of my existence rely on another post-movie-"Where is the nearest Chemist Store?"-type movie, and that too with a camouflaged statutary warning in the name itself, "Bheja Fry".

{ I tell u these ICB buggers r the shrewdest of all. Instead of an M certificate, which 'ld have been a boulder to the promotional stance of the movie, these con-men after having settled their issues with the affluent producers, cunningly asked them to make necessary alterations with the name of the movie, so that in case of a casuality or a community-wide Holocaust kindled post movie, no one can sue them. }

But then, its better to learn, or may be come out with, though strong yet innovative nuggets, instigated by vitnessing a 2 to 3 hrs long gang-bang of creativity, than to render urself colorless to the Black n White ambience, unfortunately of which u r a part.
A simile could be: Its better acquiring a negative charge than submitting to neutrality. A negative charge under the effect of induction can turn positive, but recharging a neutral atom is tedious.

Other than this n the fact that Bheja Fry was the talk of the town in a couple of days (pee-pill concoct stories abt things which they do not understand), I started growing a liking for the movie knowing that with no big stars (You can refer to notes on stardom in one of the previous posts n enlight urself.) and only 5 characters, all played by off-beat theatre artists, this movie was no commercial crap [ with 30-40 songs, 37-39 smooch scenes (no. depending on astrological oreintations of the producer's stars n moons, adviced by Jyotish Batuknath of "Sooonyle Shit-tea" fame), 20-25 rape scenes, 10-500 emotional scenes (Emraan Hashmi-Shahrukh Khan), etc ].
So, moved by the idea of a fool-proof movie, n incited by the lack of options, I decided to give it a try.
n there I was, with my all-time abettor A, n her sister, a cyborg as far as I know her (perfect at work, nothing stimulates her), at the ticket-counter of PVR Sahara Ganj, Lko., 11 o' clock in the morning.
I purchased the tickets, eyed da fellow gendry on the sly, n tried to visualize my skiny self in their '20-different-brands-on-a-single-outfit' T-Shirts n trunks....Eeeeeks..I hated myself then for being so sleek, n vowed surreptitiously that the next few months 'ld be an excessive work-out span...

Into the Hall...