Tuesday, January 10, 2012


Salman Rushdie is back in news. First, the news was he’s coming to Jaipur Literature Festival 2012. He’d be attending a session titled, very tiresomely, ‘Midnight’s Child’ (Rushide and this midnight business has already gone too far; wait for the Deepa Mehta film now!). Now, the news is there are people who do not want him in India. One group has urged the government to cancel his visa, because his actions have hurt the sentiments of the people. (Oh, I forgot, Rushdie has joined tweeter; Rushdie has proposed to his news girlfriend; Rushdie in a verbal duel with Taslima Nasreen; Rushdie at war with Facebook. Rushdie. Exhausting!)

The colleagues were talking about Rushdie. Then the talk veered towards his ex-flame, Padma Lakshmi. Next stop, Padma Lakshmi’s career as food host. Next stop, food reality shows. Next stop, the bad behaviour of Gordon Ramsay, and then, next stop, the oh-so-wonderful MasterChef Australia, the best food reality show in the world.

And I was thinking.

Who watches those food shows? I cannot watch a food show without getting hungry, and feeling really bad because I am never going to taste that delicious dish. Who watches these food shows? And I argue that those people who cannot cook to save their lives enjoy those shows. It gives them a kick to watch other people doing something they cannot do, and doing it well, and in style.

This is a pattern.

That is why you will see that the most ardent follower of cricket, the one who will plan to kill Sachin Tendulkar after he was out without scoring and would want to wash his feet after he had scored a century, is the one who has never touched the bat, or be in the field.

I should know.

For the last few days, I have been watching the American sitcom ‘Glee’ like mad. Why do I like ‘Glee’, and for that matter the musicals, and Fred Astaire? That because I cannot dance. I have the proverbial two left feet. And watching the best in the business perform their best moves give me that satisfaction, however imaginary that may be. I dance in my dream.

That is why I’m in love with the new Win Wenders documentary ‘Pina.’

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