When I think about how Opal Mehta got kissed, got wild, and got a life, I try to picture myself as one trying to secure admission in one of the reputed Ivy Leagues universities in the States (however absurd it may seem!). It is true that I can never picture myself in her shoes, for she was an achiever, both in academics, and extracurricular activities, whereas I . . . ahem . . . sort of lagged behind. There was only one department where I excelled, that of parties and boyfriends, where I probably wouldn’t need to work as hard as Opal did. I could attempt joining a Science Club in school, just as she transformed her wardrobe and metamorphosed into Paris Hilton. Well, trust me, it’s easier to get straight As in your report card, than to date the hottest jock in school. So, does that make me a prospective Harvard student? We’ll wait and watch!
When Kavya Vishwanathan was criticized left, right and centre for plagiarism, and I sat back and watched the fun, it struck me that atleast the publicity proved beneficial for the book. I would have never read the book, had it not been for all the hype. Looking at it optimistically, it is better to be known, than not to be known at all. And Kavya probably ‘plagiarized’ because the story left an indelible mark on her. I’m not trying to justify her cause; I’m just saying that even plagiarizing requires talent. Take for example all the ‘chadti jawani’ type remixes which distort and trash our Hindi classic songs, or ‘Train’, the latest Emraan movie which sort of got ‘derailed’! My, now aren’t these directors talented (sarcasm intended)!
If we can have a screen to screen copy of a movie, we can also have a page to page copy of a book. But why do we let them go unpunished for their heinous crimes of copyright infringement? Why do we overlook the semi-clad females displaying their ‘talents’ in ‘item songs’ on our small screen, scandalizing our grandparents and perverting our children? Why do we vent our pent up anger against Kavya Vishwanathan, who has to bear the brunt of plagiarism?
Coming back to Opal Mehta (I think I got sort of derailed myself!), she reminded me a lot of Lindsay Lohan in Mean Girls, though the only difference was that Opal didn’t hail from Africa. Or that she didn’t regurgitate on her boyfriend, though probably that was because Kavya Vishwanathan forgot to make her do so. When I compare my class hierarchy to that of the one existing in the Mean Girls, I see variety of categories of females.
We have the studious geeks, with their trademark glasses, deep in conversation about astrophysics, as if the world depended on that particular numerical they’re trying to crack. With their IIT and JE books in their arms, they’re really aiming for the sky, or should I say ‘Akash’! They are the intellectual geniuses bordering on the brink of insanity, and standing next to them makes me feel a little, well, lousy! If it wasn’t for them, people like me would be working for NASA, crashing rockets and upsetting the balance of the universe.
Then we have the outcasts, poor souls, sitting alone in the classroom corners, preoccupied by their own thoughts, in a world of their own. They aren’t shunned by everyone, so calling them ‘outcasts’ would probably be a harsh exaggeration, but they’re definitely unnoticed and insignificant to all. So I think we’d better call them the ‘introverts’.
Then we have the snobs! How can we leave them out, or even dream of it for that matter (though I would have liked to). The stuck-up plastics! Their world is but a façade. They’re choosy about what they wear, what they eat, who they mix with, who they sleep with . . . I could go on! They catwalk into assembly as though it’s a ramp! They’re sometimes flashy, sometimes sober, but always brand conscious. Probably not Gucci and Prada, but definitely Converse and Levis. They don’t converse much with the masses, but on that rare occasion when they do mouth their opinion, they suppose it’s more important than the President's speech on alleviation of the country’s poverty. What would the world be without them?! Amen to them; may their souls always rest in peace!
When Kavya Vishwanathan was criticized left, right and centre for plagiarism, and I sat back and watched the fun, it struck me that atleast the publicity proved beneficial for the book. I would have never read the book, had it not been for all the hype. Looking at it optimistically, it is better to be known, than not to be known at all. And Kavya probably ‘plagiarized’ because the story left an indelible mark on her. I’m not trying to justify her cause; I’m just saying that even plagiarizing requires talent. Take for example all the ‘chadti jawani’ type remixes which distort and trash our Hindi classic songs, or ‘Train’, the latest Emraan movie which sort of got ‘derailed’! My, now aren’t these directors talented (sarcasm intended)!
If we can have a screen to screen copy of a movie, we can also have a page to page copy of a book. But why do we let them go unpunished for their heinous crimes of copyright infringement? Why do we overlook the semi-clad females displaying their ‘talents’ in ‘item songs’ on our small screen, scandalizing our grandparents and perverting our children? Why do we vent our pent up anger against Kavya Vishwanathan, who has to bear the brunt of plagiarism?
Coming back to Opal Mehta (I think I got sort of derailed myself!), she reminded me a lot of Lindsay Lohan in Mean Girls, though the only difference was that Opal didn’t hail from Africa. Or that she didn’t regurgitate on her boyfriend, though probably that was because Kavya Vishwanathan forgot to make her do so. When I compare my class hierarchy to that of the one existing in the Mean Girls, I see variety of categories of females.
We have the studious geeks, with their trademark glasses, deep in conversation about astrophysics, as if the world depended on that particular numerical they’re trying to crack. With their IIT and JE books in their arms, they’re really aiming for the sky, or should I say ‘Akash’! They are the intellectual geniuses bordering on the brink of insanity, and standing next to them makes me feel a little, well, lousy! If it wasn’t for them, people like me would be working for NASA, crashing rockets and upsetting the balance of the universe.
Then we have the outcasts, poor souls, sitting alone in the classroom corners, preoccupied by their own thoughts, in a world of their own. They aren’t shunned by everyone, so calling them ‘outcasts’ would probably be a harsh exaggeration, but they’re definitely unnoticed and insignificant to all. So I think we’d better call them the ‘introverts’.
Then we have the snobs! How can we leave them out, or even dream of it for that matter (though I would have liked to). The stuck-up plastics! Their world is but a façade. They’re choosy about what they wear, what they eat, who they mix with, who they sleep with . . . I could go on! They catwalk into assembly as though it’s a ramp! They’re sometimes flashy, sometimes sober, but always brand conscious. Probably not Gucci and Prada, but definitely Converse and Levis. They don’t converse much with the masses, but on that rare occasion when they do mouth their opinion, they suppose it’s more important than the President's speech on alleviation of the country’s poverty. What would the world be without them?! Amen to them; may their souls always rest in peace!
And last but not the least, there are those unfortunate ordinary souls like me, who get kissed, get wild, and try to get a life!
