India has become the great stirring pot of hypocrisy. Add a little spice, some chopped up innuendos and thoda sa ishq wala love to make our movies the anti-thesis of “cultural moderation”. A long drawn out Emraan Hashmi kiss countered with four ‘too long’ kissing scenes cut by our ‘sanskaar-loving guarding goons’ (also known as the Censor Board in common parlance). Yes, yes truly India has come a long way.
In the time before independence; in all of Bombay’s cinematic glory days, a rather curios scene unravelled on the scandalous film screen. A low budget movie and some spectacular actors made a disturbing play out of eroticism and seductiveness. The heroine suckled on a ripe mango and passed it on to the virile hero’s small mouth where upon he gave the mango a passionate kiss. They repeated it with an apple, sometimes a pillow. This was the birth of what was to be known as the indirect kiss; pregnant with longing and rebellion.
Unfortunately for some ‘ram-ram, haaye meri izzat’ sanskaari baapus whose eyes would scorch if the rays emitted from indecency fall on their face, scenes of depictions of sexuality has become more perversely evasive. The 50’s saw Vyjayanthimala woo audiences on dance numbers like Chad Gayo Papi Bichua in Madhumati (1958). The 70’s and 80’s saw a kaboom of machismo love with movies like Bobby and Satyam Shivam Sundaram. Nuptial affairs were ripe in the air; sexy buttocks were moved to the tunes of the ‘classics’ we still hum to today.
After years of ‘independence’ we still battle the trite and hackneyed sequences coupled with stupid cuts where we haze out sex scenes in songs, obsess over the duration of kissing scenes and give movies an A certificate simply based on which side the lead couple is batting. It has led to the deserted cucumbers in long drawn pants and suppressed muliebrity behind sari clad bodies.
All the youth of India ask for is a little creativity. We no longer feel our flaps lingering inside wrestling to be unleashed upon the world. Our men and women must pounce on each other with a longing only dared to be repeated by the ‘loose’ Europeans. There must be hoots and cries in cinemas, abandoned nuptials must be taken up with arduous passion. It is important for this god-fearing country we call ‘India that is Bharat’ wherein there are two tumblers; culture and religion (which overstep their boundaries) to wring out their blood wrought pitchforks and kill hypocrisy, dogmatism, taboos and subservience.
In all cinematic glory and glitters of the ‘new Indian age’ our fight begins; against all those who hate knowing that other people just might be enjoying themselves!
*Images taken from google.