Yeah I know its been a while. But partly thanks to Santosh and partly to rave about Watchmen and rant about One Night @ the Call Centre, my blogger status has been restored…
Getting to the point, Watchmen is simply put, THE BEST graphic novel out there. Written in 1985, a time when the sales of comics in general were particularly low, it was one of the (along with Frank Miller’s Dark Knight Returns and Art Speigelman’s Maus) books that revived a flagging interest in comics…The entire storyline is too vast for me to summarize here. Its set in the backdrop of the Cold War paranoia amok in the United States and particularly in New York. Superheroes have been outlawed according to the Keene Act although there are a select few who operate in the cover of night.. Nuff said…read the book un-missable stuff… Great artwork with subtle clues to the ending adorning almost every page,a fantastic storyline and an ending that’ll leave your brains splattered on the wall. Orgiastic..
But as luck would have it……….
Yours truly was once traveling in a train. I was very bored and didn’t have any one else in the compartment. Suddenly the train stopped at a station and a pretty young girl walked in. Surprisingly she seemed to recognize me. Turns out she read my blog. I asked her what she thought of it and without a hint of hesitation she said she didn’t think too much of it. I was taken aback.
“sure, you’ve seen a couple of movies….but is this really about you??”, she said..
I wasn’t sure of what to reply…
“I’ll tell you a story, but you must promise to make it your next blog post..”
“what if the story isn’t interesting at all…then what?” I protested
“take it or leave it”, she said
Thus I had to post about the extraordinary story of the young girl. I have chosen to write it in first person point of view from the character i most identify with.
Hi, my name is Thirrrumalleshwaram or Mr T for short. I do practically nothing and am wasting away my whole life. Pardon my grammar but I’m not too much of a writer. Meet my friend Happy Singh. He hates American culture and the Australian cricket team. One day he comes upto me and asks me to try out this new book. It was by an Indian “author” named Chetan Bhagat and it was called One Night @ the Call Centre(ON@TCC). He told me it wasn’t a festering heap of garbage like many other people had told… it wasn’t a bathroom read like the critics said and it definitely wasn’t an unbelievable load of bollocks like his previous book. I was very confused. Happy Singh recommending a Chetan Bhagat “book”!!. Nevertheless I decided to try it.
As soon as I reached home I got down to reading the “book”. In about an hour’s time I had finished it. I was speechless. This was undoubtedly the worst book ever. i couldn’t wait for the next day to get my hands on H Singh.
When I confronted him about this bucket of crap, he just smirked and laughed really loudly. I knew I had been had.
Back in the train, I knew this was going to be my next blog post. It made for absolutely stellar and riveting reading. I promised the girl that my next book would indeed be the wonderful story that she had just narrated. It also served the purpose of keeping me awake through the night. As our stations came closer, I asked her who she was…
She smiled and said,”Isn’t it obvious?”
I replied that it wasn’t
She stood up to leave and then with a passing whisper she said,” I am Chethan Bhagat.”
I reeled from the news that Chethan Bhagat was now a woman as the train came to a halt and I heard a porter’s voice…
(all resemblances to persons living or dead are purely co-incidental….except for Bhagat of course)
Did that make any sense to you??
Neither did One Night @ the Call Centre….