There are movies, and then there is ‘Barfi!’. Yeah well, that’s also a movie but it’s an exceptional movie, so.. then there’s ‘Barfi!’
I can’t imagine how much you’d miss if I didn’t start with telling you the significance of the name! Now Barfi, in Hindi, means a square piece of sweet. Like the ones in rows in the picture. It’s more of a shape really.
But in the movie, it’s the name of our protagonist, who had the bemused audience wondering for months how they could make a movie whose name means- A Sweet? But they did make it. And they made a masterpiece. Barfii is deaf and dumb, and his mother named him after the stereo she loved, as ‘Murphy’. Alas, Barfii could only pronounce a shrilly version of it, and he became Barfii. I swear you’ll melt when you hear him say it.
Of course, I recommend this movie to everyone. If you don’t understand Hindi, you can find it with subtitles and anyway there aren’t many dialogues. Read a review, they are all pretty good. But there’s more to this blog post really. A lot more.
I was going to watch the movie a second time yesterday. (Or today, since it was overnight.) Yeah, it’s that good. Suddenly, one third through the movie, the screen went blank Caput! 🙂 I was enjoying it. Naturally people begin speculation- what’s this? Ooohhh. There were the usual lot who thought it was the interval. There were the proud and vulgar men who just whined and said they wanted their money back. There were cute kids making ghostly noises. There was my neighbour flashing disco lights from her smartphone. And there was me, thinking of how I would heroically protect everyone in a minute when the terrorists swamped in. 🙂
But all that happened was an attendant coming in to tell everyone to please move to another hall and sorry for the inconvenience. I was loving it!
But I should have foreseen. The craziness that would ensue!
Such typical idiocy began when we reached the other hall that I was only vaguely surprised. Sometimes these people just gnaw the hope out of me!
You would expect that people would just proceed to the seats numbers they had been sitting at in the previous hall. Yeah, good joke.
How thick does one have to be to see that the only difference in the new hall is that the middle clump of seats is divided in two as an extra aisle runs through it?
But no, that somehow made it “not necessary to retain the original seats, and you could sit wherever you want.” So no matter who paid so much extra for the top seats, if you reached it, you got it. Thankfully, most people had gone to their own seats in the first place but this mustached idiot above me was bent on showing his argument skills.
There was the pestering wife, who only shrilly shrieked every now and then that these are ‘our seats’.
There were the smart sons (the real seat-owners) who treated the pesky lady respectfully and let her make a fool out of herself.
There was her meddlesome kid who kept jumping in with his stupid observations and I wondered what school he was in.
There was the educated idiot as is everywhere, but thankfully this one only counted wrong and nothing more.
And then there was Mustaches. The idiot man who wanted better seats than he had bought.
“NO no no! Nobody’s following the same seating plan.”
God I hate mustaches. And specially that Mustaches. With his pot belly and all.
The smart sons settled it all. They took different seats, next to me really, and I had a good time laughing with them. And things went right when an attendant found that other family in someone’s else’s seats also and asked them to please take their own seats, which they could no longer find and… had to sit in the third row from the front! Divine justice!
But that’s Some Movie Experience don’t you think?
Though, let’s hope that doesn’t happen to you when you go to see Barfi! 😀