Opinion

Bull's Eye

Vinod Mehta's lament about the use of cliches provoked a torrential response from readers. National dailies these days oscillate between Hinglish ...

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Bull's Eye
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Vinod Mehta's lament about the use of cliches provoked a torrential response from readers. National dailies these days oscillate between Hinglish and American slang. "Zor ka jhatka coming", blares one headline. "G-8 leaders chill out on yacht" screams another. No wonder Dindigul stopped writing. Dindigul wasn't his real name. But this story is true.

Dindigul was an editor's steno aspiring to write. "Write film reviews," his editor advised. Being a film buff, Dindigul eagerly agreed. But no paper published his stuff. He religiously read Films and Filming and Sight and Sound to learn how the firangs wrote.

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One day he got an inspiration. He bought a French-English dictionary. His next review had a sprinkling of French phrases. Whoopee! His review was accepted. After that, nothing could stop him. He worked French phrases into his reviews with a cunning mastery achieved through practice. Editors developed a healthy respect for him.

He sometimes asked me to edit his copy. "Don't change that bit about the joy de veevra of Kishore Kumar," he would say.

Or, "Keep the bit about how Dilip Kumar delivers the koo day grass at the end."

Or, "Should I make Madhubala's dance number the peace day resistaance of this film?"

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"Dindigul," I once said sternly. "You know you are a fraud. Can't editors see through you?"

"Never," he said complacently. "They have an inferiority complex. I have other ways to demoralise them. When I don't know what to say, I just say the film has a certain Kafkaesque quality. No editor dare question me after that. No editor knows what Kafka stands for, but everybody respects him."

Dindigul became a leading film critic. Then he began to fade, to finally disappear.

The other day I unexpectedly ran into him. Old memories flooded back. "Dindigul, why have you stopped writing?" I asked.

"Things have changed," he said vaguely.

"But Bollywood has never been so classy. All the Bollywood dudes are chilling it in Europe and America! They need you, man! So dig the scene and let's go party! Show these dudes what a cool cat can do!"

Dindigul gave me a stony look. Years ago I myself would have seen that he was unimpressed. But now it was his body language that told me so. "Yes, Bollywood is bigger than Hollywood," he said with a faint sneer. "But behind all that glitter I sense a spirit of day ja voo."

After that, I sadly realised why Dindigul would never return to the newspapers of today.

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(Puri can be reached at rajinderpuri2000@yahoo.com)

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