Act 3 Scene 4
Seated on her computer chair, Rhine Francis. Enter stage left – Mallaunty, or Nirmala Sunil, Rhine’s maternal aunt. Displayed is a picture of Hamish Joy on the computer
Nirmala:“Ah, so this is your fiance?”
Rhine:“Yes, I’m positive. I’d recognize him anywhere”
Nirmala:“Well, what’s his name?”
Rhine:“Hamish Joy”
Nirmala:“What was that again??”
Rhine:“Hamish”
Nirmala:“Ooooh… Now I understand.”
Rhine:“Hmm… understand what?”
Nirmala:“Don’t you see it?”
Rhine:“See what?”
Nirmala:“The name… What does it sound like?”
Rhine:“???”
Nirmala:“Come on… doesn’t it remind you of anything?”
Rhine:”Like what… Skirmish? Famish? What? You think he looks famished?… Vanish? Tarnish? Garnish? Lavish?”
Nirmala:“No, no. That guy from the movies… the one you like… what’s his name…”
The ever astute aunt was paving the verbal road towards the abominable Emraan Hashmi. For those of you who have been fortunate enough to have never heard of Mr. Hashmi before, he is an unrepentant excuse for a Bollywood actor, having secured a list of inexplicable hits to his name. His whiny persona and contrived acting skills had placed him as a sore irritant blotting the landscape. The fact that his name took an anagrammatic spin on my own has only served to enhance the irritation. ”Locate and punch Hashmi right smack in the nose simply for being annoying” is number 27 on my bucket list.
Nobody’s perfect… and I was very much prepared to see chinks in my fiancée, Rhine’s persona. Unfortunately, the imperfection in Rhine seems to have manifested in the horrible form of an Emraan Hashmi fanhood. Ever since she was subject to his movies Murder, Gangster and Raaz, she has been living under the intense delusion that he is a capable actor. She seems to have made it a point to watch his movies at every chance she got – and mind you, she does all of this voluntarily, without so much as a gun to her head. From the looks of it, the damage seems to be permanent, and noted experts say she’s going to remain a Hashmi fan for life.
It’s a tough dilemma that I face… Marital counselors often stress that for a good and lasting relationship, it is extremely important to refrain from punching your wife’s favourite star in the nose. In almost all cases, I agree with them, but this particular nose rests on the face of Emraan Hashmi. I’m sure none of these so-called experts have taken this into consideration.
But a healthy relationship demands sacrifice. While I am currently clueless as to how I will achieve this, I have determined that I will be more tolerant of all the Hashmis that life throws at me. I will even watch some of his movies with Rhine. My current plan is to stab myself in the thigh with a sharp pen in order to take my mind off the screen. I will grin and bear it as he prances around on screen in his stereotyped role as an ‘amorous, lovelorn human being’, trying – and miserably failing – to portray a believable human being. And when she asks me how I enjoyed the movie, I will force a smile as I spurt the words “Oh, it was great, honey“, thinking “…at least, it wasn’t as bad as the pain my thigh“. But for this to happen, I will need to pray that Mr. Hashmi improves as an actor. I’m not expecting miracles. I just want him to improve a little bit so that he’s at least better than the piercing pain of a stab-wound in my thigh. I’m keeping my fingers crossed and my pens sharp.
