The Five Stages of Fangirling

I can’t be. No. It’s ridiculous. I’m just watching these movies for educational purposes. Also, India is a fascinating country. And the colors are really pretty. That’s it. I can’t be a fangirl. I  mean, this person has been known to wear mesh sweaters in the Swiss Alps.



I’ll just read this one obscure article from Filmfare 1997 and it will be the last of it, I swear. I SWEAAAR.  Maybe one last re-watch of KKHH. It will be the last re-watch, really. I mean I obviously need to make the number of re-watches an even 10.

I suck. I’m a failure of a person. He’s not even young enough or conventionally attractive enough to make this obsession ok. I’ll just keep this shameful secret and hide under a large rock for the rest of my life.

Screw this. I’m not doing anything illegal, am I? I’m just fangirling, come on. I’m letting the fangirl flag fly, bitches. I’m side-eyeing Salman fans and openly making fun of “serious actor” Aamir.  I’m hanging the Koyla poster over my bed and making Haule Haule my ringtone. I’m making “SRK” “Shah Rukh Khan” “Shahrukh Khan” and “King Khan” Google Alerts and re-watching KKHH for the 11th time.


In Defense of Sex and the City

Sex and the City wasn’t a feminist show. It wasn’t as progressive as it could have been. It skirted around issues it could have raised. The two films that followed the TV show, almost made it a punchline. Almost. But not quite (here’s to hoping there won’t be a movie no. 3).

It’s STILL a groundbreaking piece of TV. Women won’t stop playing the “Which SATC girl are you?” game any time soon. It has tapped into the collective psyche in a way that’s hard to duplicate. And I don’t think Girls any new female-centric show is doing a good job of replicating the genuine camaraderie and affection between Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte.

I was 14, when I first started watching SATC. It’s not that my parents weren’t supervising my TV-watching, it’s just that I was a willful child, who sneaked out of her bed to watch Russian-dubbed SATC episodes at 2 a.m. every Thursday and Friday. I can’t say that SATC wasn’t mildly titillating for a 14 year old, but I can definitely say I wasn’t tuning in for all the softcore shenanigans. My Mom was always very open about sex and sexuality, and I read a LOT of Men’s Health magazines (don’t ask…), so Samantha’s escapades were not teaching me anything I didn’t already know. I also wasn’t watching SATC because of Manolo Blahnik’s and Cosmopolitans (at 14, my greatest ambition was to own the next Harry Potter book).

I was sneak-watching Sex and the City, because it was an exhilarating experience. Here were these four single women in their thirties, who were living a far more exciting life than any married woman I knew. There was an alternate lifestyle out there. Not having a husband and children didn’t make them pariahs. It actually made them cool.  They were still very much obsessed with men and relationships, but at least they weren’t sad virginal spinsters.

Being single used to mean that nobody wanted you. Now it means you’re pretty, sexy, and you’re taking your time deciding how you want your life to be and who you want to spend it with. – Carrie Bradshaw

SATC gave me options. It gave me food for thought. It made me realize, that the life choices I’ve been taught to make, were not the only ones available to me. It exposed me to four distinct female characters with different personality traits and different wants and needs. It didn’t vilify the many sexual encounters these women were having. It showed me that sex is not a dirty, disgusting choice for a woman. It told me that female friendship is as genuine as male friendship. Even if this sounds corny and naive, it taught me that women are just as important as men.

And ain’t that the abso-fuckin’-lute truth?

Pushing Daisies

This past summer I’ve been mostly watching TV. It so happened that I was back from Belgium, where I was studying for my grad degree, and I was bored and unemployed. To get my mind off of all of the things I was missing (living alone, my friends, cold Belgian weather, beer), I started marathoning a lot of shows I had missed out on. My binge-fest 2012 ended with the meager 22 episodes of Pushing Daisies.Which leads me to the question…


WHY? Who am I kidding, I know why. It was too quirky for the mainstream. I’m not usually one to love whimsical and precious material (sorry, Amelie, but YUCK), but this damn show was so much better than anything like it. Pushing Daisies is what Tim Burton once was (Edward Scissorhands) coupled with what Wes Anderson sometimes achieves (The Royal Tenenbaums).

I mean, Universe…Kristin Chenoweth was in it. Kristin Chenoweth played the part of the most adorable waitress on the planet Earth with the worst case of unrequited love. Oh, and she also burst into a song at random times throughout the show.

WHAT can be more precious than Cheno as Olive, Universe? How did you allow for Pushing Daisies to be cancelled and for Kristin to not be playing Olive Snook anymore? I bet your decision led to Kristin starring on Glee. GLEE!

Yeah, I’m not content to be living in a world, where Glee is still on the air, while Pushing Daisies is not. I WEEP for the world, where Lee Pace is not the Piemaker, but a background character in freaking Breaking Dawn Part II…I do wish there was a .gif to express my hatred of the Twilight franchise, but I’m afraid modern .gif-making technology has not reached that peak of development yet.

What I want to say, I guess, is that in 2 seasons of 9 and 13 episodes each, this show managed to establish a mythology, a complex backstory and rich characterizations. It was smart, witty and unusual. It went before its time. RIP Pushing Daisies. Maybe someday the Piemaker will wake you up with the touch of his finger.