Business Trip

Disclaimer: All characters including the author, situations and locations appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, fake persons, living, dead or undead, is purely coincidental and unintentional.

The traveler picked up his boarding pass, glad to be rid of the heavy suitcase. The carry bag was heavy but manageable. Still to declare a few things at the customs, he dragged his feet to the emigration counter to wrap up formalities. He was traveling for the umpteenth time and hoping he would have a break for a while after the trip. Filling up the form required while standing in the line, he realized he still didn't remember the date of issue. Swearing softly under his breath he balanced the form, his passport and the pen before he managed to scrawl it illegibly. The line was not too long but standing when you would rather be sleeping does make a person review the virtues of patience.

He would have rather been listening to music but headphones in this area might just cause unnecessary headaches. His turn came soon enough. Giving up his passport and the form, he surveyed the people around. He had been doing that until then but that was to look for the an empty counter. The current survey was just to look at fellow travelers and kill those last moments before he could have some Hindustani classical blaring into his ears. The officer in front of him would every now and then look at him, check a few names on the computer, search all immediate relatives' names on the passport and cross verify, confirm the purpose of travel. That is what the officer was paid for, to make sure all was well.

This was when the conversation at the next counter really pulled his interests. For some reason the traveller had started listening to it before it had gotten interesting. The other counters were far and silent but things would not have changed even if they had been noisy and cramped.

Man in front of the counter: Main business ke liye jaa raha hoon.
Officer: kaisa business?
Man..: Wahaan par company hai meri.
O: Teri company hai ya tu usme kaam karta hai?
M: Meri company hai.
O: Accha toh tu wahaan ek baar gaya aur tune wahaan company khadi kar di.
M: Jee sir.
O: Kitne din tha wahaan?
M: 7 din sirjee.
O: Maane 7 din mein tune puri company banaa di woh bhi foreign mein.
M: Haanjee
O: Apne aap ko Dirubhai Ambani samajhta hai kya. 7 din mein company banaayega.
M: ...
O: Umar kitni hai be teri?
M: 25

Note: Guru - a movie with a plot-line similar to the life of Dirubhai Ambani had released in the not so distant past.
At this point our traveler was amused. Well people do travel for business at the age of 25 but well this guy for some reason didn't look the part. He of course didn't know English at all, his Hindi was broken with an unfamiliar and unpleasant accent. He was not really disheveled but was one sneeze away from being called that. Of course all this still does not prove anything related to the man's competence so our traveler strained to hear some more.

O: 25 saal aur baahar main 7 din ke andar company chalaa di. Tu toh Dirubahi Ambani se bhi mahaan hai. Tere jaise 10-12 launde aur aa jaaye toh desh toh bahut aage nikal jaayega.
M: Nahi sirjee, sach bataa rahe hai...
O: Mujhe bevakoof samjha hai kya. Yeh sab document leke aa. Kahani suna raha hai kya?

Dejectedly the man walked away from the counter digging into his shiny folder of papers. He disappeared from the view of the traveler for a few seconds as he looked for non-existent papers in an invisible corner. He was back soon enough though.

M (very softly): Sir main aapko gift dena chaahta hoon.
O: Kya? Kya bol raha hai?
M: Sir aapke liye gift hai. Please le lijiye.
O (looking at it): ...

At this point the officer at the traveler's counter stamped the traveler's passport and asked him to move on. Well the traveler too decided it was time. Sometimes you do not want to listen to the end of the story. When Old Yeller gets rabies, you know the ending is tragic no matter what happens. He carried on towards customs. He heard no more and he had certainly wanted to hear no more. He already knew how that story ended.

I hate luv storys, a review

This movie is bad enough to be unwatchable yet not so bad that it is good. In that sense, it achieves the perfect balance to be truly horrible. Some jokes are funny, the rest are not taken from any English sitcom. The movie tries to make fun of sickeningly sweet love movies and becomes one in the process akin to a headmaster confiscating a playboy from a student and then ogling at it later.

Ample dream sequence songs for you to go to the restroom, puke, get more pop corn, rinse and repeat. The songs themselves have all the makings of all the wrong things there are: bad music, worse singing and exotic locations to make you not look at the previous all while pretending to be making fun of the same. Acting of course is as good as the zombies in a Ramsay bros movie. Everyone manages to be at their B-grade best with expressions taken right out of an office meeting throughout, despite the location and situation. Characters are stereotypical with about as much depth as a puddle.

The director is as decisive as a kid in a toy store who can pick just one toy. It rambles on randomly being a spoof at one moment, melodramatic the next and as sweet as an overripe mango the very next. Recommended for anyone who needs a lobotomy and cannot afford one. Ran away from it the moment the pop corn ran out. Would not be able to survive the climatic monologue which I am sure will be coming up.