My dirty dream

My dirty dream


Lamenting the publicity overdose given to The Dirty Picture, a friend said, “My grandmother is deaf, and even she has heard about the picture!”

Well, my grandmother is dead and she has heard about it too. I know that because she came into my dream to specifically discuss the movie.

“I saw the movie some twenty, forty times,” grandma said casually. “I keep breezing in and out of the cinema halls. But I still don’t get the woman’s empowerment part that they are talking about.”
“It is Silk Smitha’s real life story” I said “I know, I know,” Grandma said with a trace of irritation in her voice, “I was interested in the movie because empowering Indian women is an issue I have always been passionate about. I couldn’t do anything about it when I was alive. So I have made it my after-life mission. We are a big group here working on that.Want to hear about it?” Grandma asked.

I sat up and piled two soft pillows on my lap to rest the elbows.

“Dhukhiya’s pupils dilated in fear as she watched the two ugly men close in on her like a dark cloud. It was at this point that I made an appearance. Since I was more white, they abandoned the black one and turned towards me. One of them pushed me and pinned me down with my legs.  It was then that he saw how my feet were formed. The man hollered something that was totally unintelligible to his companion. In fact, it didn’t even sound like a human speech! But the way he took off towards the car said it all. I’m pleased to tell you that  laughter has stayed on little Dhukhiya’s face.”

“For Sheila and Leela it was their jawaani that worked against them. Every single day, a group of rowdy boys followed the hapless girls, all the way, from the coaching class to the bus stop, with lewd songs. That day, I decided to accompany the girls and when the Romeos begged the beauties to turn back and give one loving glance, I obliged. I turned my head a full 180 degrees and had the satisfaction of seeing the gang scatter and disappear into the bylanes. I haven’t seen them in the locality again after that.

“Grandma, well done,”   I said.

“Do you think Ms Kapoor would be interested in making a movie based on such empowerment stories?”

It was hard but I could not let the delusion get any bigger.

“Grandma, it’s not that simple.” I said, “As Vidya Balan has been taking pains to explain at every promo session, you first have to lure people in with a show of flesh. The message can be pushed in only after that. If you and your friends are the protagonists, there will be little scope for providing the necessary attractions. You dress in one-piece ground hugging drapes and have no flesh whatsoever underneath.  How does one market your stories?” 

“We could do a hand stand and gyrate to a Ooh la la number,” Grandma said. “All for the cause of women’s empowerment, of course” she added, in dead seriousness.