The Madras Mail

1700 hrs
“Machaan, my toe is badly hurt, just came back from Pallava after cleaning the wound and dressing it. Okay, we’ll go meet Mr.Bhai, do our bit for ‘warming the globe’. Why don’t we go watch a movie?”

1800 hrs
“Wat velai? Will convince my parents that am fine, call up that f***er George and ask him whether he is coming.”

2100 hrs
“Come down ass”

2134 hrs
“Sir, you have exactly 26 minutes left for ‘witnessing’ the movie, National Treasure – The Book of Secrets. Kindly check your tickets sir. 3 tickets, for the 10pm show, Row no.E, Sathyam theater”

“Eh?”

Sundeep messed around with that guy for a while, and I was laughing my ass off, and George, who is night-blind, was ‘trying’ to park the car.

2200 hrs
“… prince jewellery …. saravana stores … shreya …. prince jewellery (again) … *silence*”

We were sitting in the ‘Elite’ class, 120 bucks.

“… a Jerry Bruckheimer production …”

2 hours of totally absurd ideas being acted out by an even absurder band of actors, who are all in the pursuit of the ‘lost city of gold’. The only saving grace was Diane Kruger, who in one scene, hinted that she might ‘fornicate’ with someone, that did not happen, and ended as an awkward kiss with a ‘White house aide’ who looked like he’d been run over by a truck after she was done. I don’t blame him though.

0030 hrs
The female in the seat front of us wore her shirt after being intensely groped by the guy sitting next to her throughout the movie

0045 hrs
“… 3 rajas and a Zippo …”

0130 hrs
Back home

An evening well spent.