mental junkbox - November 10th, 2007

The Pisces is getting a tattoo today. She refuses to tell me where and what, which is so typical... but my guesses are: to the left or right of her pelvic area, somewhere on the small of her back or on either of her ankles. By tomorrow, the verdict shall be out.

Growing up on Bollywood has forever left me with visions of moonlit nights, perfect men, romantic courtships, and incomparable happily-ever-afters. You want to know the power of indian cinema? You are an educated individual, a cynical city-girl with a much less-than-perfect history of love; you know the movies are a sham, you know it's too perfect to be true, you cannot be more aware that it's escapism at its best yet with every fiber of my being, even if its a lousy low-production film with a mediocre cast and awful directing and the same fucking script I've seen in twenty other movies, I will stay rooted to my seat, watch it from beginning to end and end up believing that it's all true.

Someone explain it to me, please.