A Smoke with Priya from Baazigar

The other day while purchasing sutta I saw Priya Chopra.

Priya who?

Priya Chopra, the lead from the popular Bollywood movie from the 90s, Baazigar.

Ah Kajol!

Nope! How do I explain, because I cannot, but I routinely encounter movie characters in real life. Yeah, not the actors who have played them, rather the actual characters. I am not even aware what other people see them as and I have met some really famous ones (but no one else jumped out, so I am not sure what they see).

Anyway, if you have not seen the movie, here is a quick synopsis with *spoilers*, Madan Chopra is an evil fraudster who swindles all the money, business, and property from his boss Vishwanath Sharma and throws him along with family on the street. Vishwanath Sharma, unable to live like 99% promptly has a heart attack and dies, his newborn daughter also dies from exposure to elements and his wife goes into a shock and loses all sense of reality leaving the pre-teen son Ajay who vows to take revenge on Chopra.

He goes about it by first luring Chopra’s first-born Seema into love and subsequently throwing her off a building masquerading it as a suicide. This has no effect on Chopra because as Ajay should have noted, relationships don’t mean much to the man. Ajay meanwhile has started an affair with Chopra’s second daughter Priya. Along the way he further kills two more innocent people to cover his tracks. Finally, he makes the master move by using the same trick Chopra used and strips him off all his money, business etc. Chopra returns with a dozen hired muscle, a fight ensues, and everyone dies (Chopra and Ajay included, Ajay’s mother survives but she goes into shock after briefly recovering from her illness).

The end.

So, anyway, like I said, I was smoking my Goldflake when I saw her. She was closer to 50 but still looked like the Priya from Baazigar. She asked for a pack of goldflakes as well. Since I had a lit match, I offered it to her and said hello. I told her that I recognized who she was. She took a drag and sat on the bench and asked me if I drank tea. We ordered two. I was pleasantly surprised by the attention I was getting.

“Most people don’t recognize me days, and it’s a relief. Not that I hold it against you.” she said.

I asked her how she was and then I asked how Ajay’s mother was. She took a long drag on that question and let out a long sigh.

“I heard she passed away a month or so after the events of that day” She said.

“Oh, I am sorry.”

“For me? Please, I never met her after that day.”

I didn’t say anything in reply, but my body language must have given something away for she took a long drag and continued.

“People assume that I would have taken care of her, but they forget a basic fact — why the fuck would I do that? Here I was grieving over my sister and her son who was supposed to be shoulder for me tells me instead that he has not only been two timing me with my sister but is also her killer and hello, my inheritance has also been swooped up by him. Then he proceeds to kill my father and before I can get a line sideways, he dies himself.

And now I am supposed to take care of his ailing mother, who by the way, I didn’t even know existed 15 minutes back. Hey, here’s an idea — how about we undead the motherfucking son so that he takes care of her instead of wrecking lives which he didn’t need to. Or at least could have thought of putting her in an institute before going all Tony Montana.”

I nod in agreement; I can see her point, but her father was kind of a dick.

“I know what you are thinking, hey, your father was a dick, so all is deserved.” I forgot that somehow they all can lean into whatever I am thinking.

She continues “Well, first of all, fuck you. Now, we sisters didn’t like our father much, but certainly not to that extent to inflict capital punishment on him, which by the way shouldn’t be a thing anymore, this is 2020s for fuck’s sake. Either way, even barbaric justice systems don’t believe in killing the daughter for father’s crimes. And what manner of fucked up psycho kills someone by using something they dread the most, in Seema’s case, fear of heights. That cringy guy came from a culture of honor killing I tell you.

So, why exactly is that asshole a hero in the eyes of public at large? They call him anti-hero, like there is some kind of minor question over his complete hero-ness. What hurts me even more is that the dude wasn’t even smart; my dad caused him a lifetime of anguish, and in return he gave him pain for a grand total of 15 minutes, like this was his plan? Dad barely broke a tear when Seema died, so she was killed just because Chutiya Ajay miscalculated.”

“Were you at least able to get the business back?”

“What business, it all went away soon. There were trust issues with the clients and it all went under in a few months’ time. But fuck it, I am happier without it.”

“How’s Karan, the inspector who clearly had a thing for you.”

“Who knows, the dude’s a sanghi, worked for Adityanath’s government. Good riddance.” The sutta was over, she crushed it, picked up the butt, pocketed it and walked away without a goodbye, like they always do.

Originally published at http://freakverse.wordpress.com on January 26, 2020.