I hate the Goat King

I hate SRK. I hate that name. I hate a perfume by that name. I hate every brand that is associated with that name and I hate going to watch a movie with that name on the cast list.

My wife is a movie buff and loves this self proclaimed King, this despite his breaking her heart four times over the last four years. His movies OSO, RNBDJ, BB and MNIK were all pathetic and most disappointing for her, and I am astonished that despite all those atrocities he still continues to reside in her heart. I am sure that if I had done the same even once she’d have given me a black eye and asked me to take a walk. I hate him.

Well, I am not the only one who hates him. Alongside me stand many men and women of my generation, of which, some men hate him purely because they are jealous of his stardom. The others, like me hate him for various reasons.

For having the naivety to even dream of challenging The Big B. How could he even think of it? And when he fell down flat on his face with a dhobi pachad, what does he do? To prove that he is bigger, he runs to some nondescript town in Malaysia and buys himself some Knighthood. Shame. Shame.

For he is my Bhaijaan’s enemy; and he is responsible for sowing the initial seeds of rift between Bhaijaan and our ‘would have been Bhabijaans’. Because of him, to this day my Bhaijaan remains a bachelor. Sob sob.

For making fun of South Indian movies and southies in general with his rubbish ‘chatti patti’ dialogue in OSO.

For making a goat look bad on the movie screen.

For all those times that my sisters, (girl)friends and now wife drooled (and continue to drool) over him shamelessly every time that he appeared (and appears) on TV, starting from his Fauji days.

For doing whatever he did to The Dada of Indian Cricket.

For all those evenings that I fought with my wife after she hijacked the TV remote to watch recordings of his cheap comics as he played host to one of those petty cine awards nights.

For redefining the way the business of Cricket and Cinema is run in India and for showing to the masses that one can make profits even after coming last in a cricket tournament and by producing an utterly senseless movie.

For proving again and again and again that the masses are nothing but cattle, which can be directed to any direction that ‘he’ desires.

For all his friends who make worthless goods and who believe that they can sell that crap by just putting his picture over it.

For becoming the epitome of a ‘self made man’ and for reaching such dizzying heights that even my best friends are compelled to look up to him as their idol.

For trying to make inroads into my son’s heart with his marketing gimmicks and youtube promos.

And of late, for conniving with my wife and trying to convince me through my seven year old lad that his latest flick, the one on a computer game gone awry is indeed a movie worth a watch.

Yes, I hate this man. In fact, like most of my friends, I love to hate this man. So much that I am compelled to kick my lazy bum to go and watch Ra.One in the theatre; this after making myself cognizant of the fact that this is one movie which has received some of the worst reviews of all times.

Come Saturday, and I am taking my family to the City Centre Multiplex, and there, I plan to put my son through the ultimate test, which will decide whether he is different or just like all other Indians, one of the herd. He will have to choose between Ra.One, Real Steel, Lion King and Johnny English. My son loves heavy transformer like robots, cartoon movies and even Rowan Atkinson, and so I expect that he would not choose to watch Ra.One. But, even in the worst case if he does so, I’d have no regrets. For one, I know the Goat King would only end up breaking Tara’s heart for the fifth time, and in such a circumstance I’d be just more then eager to offer her a shoulder to cry. Secondly I’d be going in with a mind set to watch an ‘F’ grade movie. And either case it’d be a win-win for me. If the movie is bad, I’d have proved my point. If it turns out to be good, I‘d have had a good time. J

But whatever, in the end, I see only one winner, SRK.  

And that’s why I hate him so much. Because, even if you don’t love him, you cannot ignore him, you’ll still love to hate him. And that’s what he wants and gets; just your attention.

And the money? Forget it; that he knows how to make.