It’s been a while since I’ve been active on my blog writing stuffs that I don’t care much about. The reason for my procrastination, or jotting down ideas there and then is something you’d find very stupid, at once or brutally logical, all over. But yes, on a scale of 1 to Abhishek Bachchan my average thinking capacity along with comprehending sheer stupid illogical derogatory and kinky ideas are 103. I can pen down almost ten write-ups everyday, only if I can put a whole new brief introduction about myself, at the end of each writeup. Yes, it might sound as stupid and unrealistic as requesting DJ wale babu to play your song when you are hot and sexy and white. It doesn’t happen in real clichéd lives. But yes, I could have written about Modi and his strange voyage fantasies to Salman khan’s impromptu act in Bajrangi Bhaijan to Hillary Clinton’s hilarious president nominations, only if, being the narcissist I am, could rejuvenate all new memoir at every write up. Yes you heard that right. I don’t write because I can’t figure out how to describe myself at the end.
So, today, because of any productive activity available to me, perpetually, I decided to introduce myself in consonance with the hardcore Shahrukh fanboy image I have.
So let’s start with the casual charsi likeness I have with Raj from the legendary DDLJ epic. When I am all bored and sexy incessantly I’m Raj from the first half of the movie – naam toh suna hi hoga? I do all random stupid remarkable vivid things every minute. I’m all free and wild and charming. I talk sense, I crave for challenge and I know love sucks. But yet again, agar wo mujhse pyar karti hai toh palat ke dekhegi is the kind of positive reasoning I apply in my day to day affair. I’m all positive, I dream big, I gather memories and I tell stories. I don’t care about anything but beer. I don’t believe In god either, I fake interactions. I fight, I’m all Hindustani and I love Kajol, but I don’t stammer, at all. But it’s all chill.. bade bade desho me aesi chhoti chhoti baate hoti rehti hai, senorita.
In the second epilogue when I’m all sad and weary and tired I’m Surendra Sahni from the Rab ne bana di jodi, I don’t know how to go ahead with my life. I take weird life decisions like dressing up as a cool swagger prick. I say haule haule like it makes any difference. I feel people around me suck and are way dumb and can be easily fooled just by clearing off a moustache.
Further when I’m all competitive and energetic, I tie one muffler around my forehead roaming around unemployed – like Max from the useless Josh. I am sensitive at one point and extremely lame at another. I pick up fights usually, intentionally. I abuse like I’m the king in this world. And I dress like I’m a jobless hippie.
And when I’m in love (Lol!) I’m Raj Aryan from the Mohobbatein blockbuster and Rahul from the multi-starrer kkkg at the same time. I’ve this multi personality disorder because that’s what love does to you. I sing stupid random senseless biologically bullshit love songs like ‘Humko humi se churalo’, because, arghhh, love! I’m all random. I deliberately try to look cute and I dress like I’m all decent. I throw cheesy one liners and I encourage youngsters to follow their hearts and die suffocating inside, also I cry hysterically at serious moments, like walking by a dead soul. I even have hallucinations where I imagine myself walking by Aishwarya Rai while holding her chiitiya kalaiya. All for love, love!
Next when I’m all inspiring and I day- dream big, when all my aspirations combine into one adroit soul I’m Om Prakash *waves hand in hair* Makhija. I over react to futile things. I stand In my balcony waving hands, throwing flying kisses that would eventually be done and fulfilled when I’ll be Om Kapoor. Also, I dream of waking up next to a maid who holds orange juice and another, a white velvet towel. And when I’m walking by to address a whole 1 lakh fan standing out of my bungalow someone puts a coat around me and I don’t care to thank him and all that jazzzz.
Further when I feel like portraying my tough look and soft side all at once, I’m Major Ram from the Mai hu na screening. I act all cool and energetic confronting my juniors. I fantasize dancing along Sushmita Sen in Tumhe jo maine dekha.
Lastly when I’m all sad and depressed I’m Kabir Khan from the Chak De India shot, ignoring people like I ignore male stars in a you-know movie, I work hard with ‘ye 70 minute’ playing in the backdrop with grown-up beard and curated life planning techniques.
And when I’m none of the above impliedly, I’m Don surreptitiously judging my close associates and sometimes, just sometimes, I’m Badshah – the one who flips simple mainstream life into complexities, apparently for new challenges and Jungli billi’s.
Personally, I’m an amalgamation of variant emotions in real life. I hide behind a facade of arrogance and self-obsession. I think, I burn, I gather dreams and sometimes, I tell a story.
Shikhar Shrivastava identifies himself as a hardcore cinephile who fanboys Shahrukh not because he hates Salman Khan religiously or he makes super-awesome movies and has face of a king or a billion fan following. But exclusively because he is The King khan. Period.