Ok, so I am a tad bit behind schedule………blame it on the conjunctivitis that decided to drop in for a visit. So I’m gonna make this a short one and will try and pack a punch or two if possible. By the way, for those of you who noticed……I am out of my rhyme mode. Yes I heard the choirs of angels too, thank you very much!
Well coming to the topic of Blogfest….yeah I am still in the running……I had to write about a scene from a book, movie, or television show that scared me the most. I racked my brains and went back and forth but managed zilch.
Well the books I read are no way connected to horror. I am on a strict diet and can only manage lighthearted nonsense overall. Yes, I could list a few blogs here who when I read them…..made me look like the Queen of Sheeba.
Television, especially in India, all of it could really qualify for scaring the daylights out of our sensibilities. The Exorcist would be no match for our scheming vamps (read evil in laws) with bright make up who can exhume ghosts of your dead past with panache. Indian television is a weapon that could be used to curb the activities of the Taliban………….believe it or not. Someday, I will get the chance to say, I told you so.
Movies, ah, they have some hope, not! When we don’t copy the international flair, scene for scene, we do manage to come up with shoddy scripts. Stories that question the very reason why we subject ourselves to 2.5 hours of song and dance?
Don’t get me wrong, we do have some very talented film makers, serial directors and writers too. But what scares me is when they lose the plot. What scares me more is when they have no plot. I then look up to the heavens and scream ‘Why me?’………I still have n’t found what I’m looking for plays to build the tempo to my anguish.
My greatest fear is one day staring into utter rubbish receiving accolades. The lyrics of a great deal of songs make for perfect nominations about now. I get scared looking at skimpily clad women in videos who have nothing to do but thrust their booty into my face. I don’t get their fashion, I don’t understand their psyche….hell, I don’t even like their perfume. Someday, and I think that will be very soon, I will belong to the extinct species that looked for substance in a performance and took pride in belonging to a generation who knew to cross their Ts and dot their Is…………….Over and out!
BTW this had me run to the loo and bolt the door……….I can still hear them scream………..AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
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