It’s often said that there are four things that a man seldom forgets in life- his first job, his first shave, his first love and his first lovemaking experience. Although I shall skip the last two in this piece (because I am still too inhibited to really open up on such private matters so candidly), I would definitely love to share my experience on the first two.

My first shave was on technically the last day of the school- it was our farewell party. To state the obvious, leaving school is, for any one of that age, full of mixed emotions- there is excitement as one is crossing an important threshold of life, there is an apprehension as deep as that of Christopher Columbus because the future is suddenly a vast unexplored territory; there is sorrow, for all the friends of yore are going to part and walk different paths; and of course, ironically and paradoxically, there is the immense joy of leaving behind set norms of class timings and uniforms and stern teachers. Amidst this pot-pouri of feelings I ventured my first shave.

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Four Bollywood films on adultery have suddenly got everyone noticing and talking about these ‘bold’ themes (three of them viz Hawas, Tum and Murder, released back to back this year, with the fourth one Jism hitting the marquee last January). Has our society abruptly become mature, or is it a sheer coincidence that our filmmakers have discovered the DVD of Unfaithful (the film that has ‘inspired’ the three recent films), is a question worth pondering over.

Even if the case is that of the latter, it is quite assuring to note that the filmmakers have had the guts to film a subject that has remained by and large taboo on-screen. The Bollywood makers have consistently shied away from showing this side of marriage and have safely stuck to ego-clashes (Abhiman, Raja Hindustani) or mundane arguments (Chalte Chalte, Saathiya).

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After writing a piece on boredom, here was a week full of happenings, outings, and fun.

Fun, literally, as I happened to watch Masti- a whacko comedy about three married friends who decide to get naughty. Enter Lara Datta, the enchantress who lures them with her alluring beauty. However, beneath the charming face lies a blackmailing mind. So by the time the three harried men get the money (with some rib-tickling moments), the lady is found to be dead. The film is slapstick humor at its best with dollops of double entendres thrown in. I know the reviews of the film have been very harsh, but then these stupid critics should realise that they cannot judge each film with the same yardstick. Masti belongs to base humor, and at that, its a winner all the way.

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