There are things that I absolutely despise in the world.
Mediocrity. People who write poems about ‘love’. The umpteenth BMM movie about ‘the fast-paced life in Mumbai’ with the song ‘Bombay Meri jaan’ looping in the background. ‘Guys’ who write poems. ‘Guys’ who read Twilight to show girls their ‘sensitive side’. Faux activism. People who take and post photographs on Facebook every time they go to a fucking mall. Chetan Bhagat fans. People who use forwarded jokes as their blog posts. Chetan Bhagat. Movies starring Akshay Kumar. Akshay Kumar. Brown-nosing teacher’s pets. Every American Pie sequel post the third one and everyone who likes those ball-searingly, godawful movies. People with unimportant/ unfunny/ pseudo-philosophical/ bland/ monosyllabic/ grammatically incorrect status messages and/ or tweets (I mean YOU: “LOL!!! Sleeeepy…gng to beddd”). Chetan Bhagat. People who hug each other for no apparent reason. Cats. Bhindi. Tiny TV/ Nick Jr. Reservations. Japanese Anime. The complete lack of winter in Mumbai. And lastly, Chetan Fucking Bhagat.
Fucking is a very good middle-name. He should consider that.
Thanks to Chetan Bhagat, I now judge people by their affinity towards Chetan Bhagat’s books. That’s a very nice yardstick for one to start a personal apartheid with, if you ask me. His Wikipedia entry, which is obviously written by him states: “His articles are written in simple English to achieve mass appeal.” Of course they are. They are also written in simple English because that’s THE ONLY KIND HE KNOWS.
I know I’m giving this publicity hogzilla more attention through this blog but it had to get it off my chest.
Artist's representation.
I mean he’s such a bad writer – his plots are more simplistic and banal than Samajwadi Party manifestos, his books are less proofread than LOLcats, his tweets are to grammar what the Nithari murders are to kids and his very existence in the literary field is a disaster far worse than any Hello or a Sohail Khan starrer can ever ravage.
The SP unveiling Chetan Bhagat's latest book.
Also, subtlety totally goes out of the door with Chetan Bhagat. Subtlety to this guy means loud covers with bad graphics and large type-fonts.
Now with the ‘3 Idiots’ charade, the Jungian archetype of mediocrity can now have his share of good/ bad/ ugly publicity. His fans, in the meanwhile, will try to evade evolutionary constraints by trying to count till seven.
Illegal Briefs 