Siddhartha Khosla

This is just an introduction to their sound but trust me, when they are on stage, it’s way more than that.

Goldspot played at Hard Rock Café, Pune on the 25^th of January 2012 as part of their 2012 India tour. I spoke to their guitarist, James Gabbie just before they went up on stage and going on how our conversation went, I expected something brilliant from them and that is exactly what I got. It wasn’t just crazy; it was infectious. The band played a pretty straight set; with their new unreleased songs (‘The Evergreen Cassette’ and ‘Somewhere in the East’) and ended with the famous ones (‘Ina Mina Dika’ and ‘Friday’). They even played an impromptu cover of ‘Jane Kahan Gaye Woh Din’ by Mukesh from Mera Naam Joker.

(Below – James Gabbie and Jake Owens)

The gig started with Rewind and it’s about the same time that the people present there were taken to a different world where clean guitar riffs and heavy-on-bass drums ruled the world. Layer that with Khosla’s uplifting vocals and you know that it’s like nothing you’ve heard before even though it might sound familiar. Their distinct Indian-ish sound is the most significant aspect about the band. It’s like a flavour more than a genre – a flavour that you find common in all of their music. And the best part? The band is as energetic as a chipmunk on Red Bull! For reasons beyond my understanding this energy descends onto the audience seamlessly.

Very few bands possess the power to get the entire crowd jumping with gay abandon and Goldspot is definitely one of them. They are just so easy to listen to! By the time they played a Hindi-English mashup of Friday, the atmosphere of the whole venue had changed!

(Below – Darren Becket and Adam Chilenski)

 My favourite songs from the gig were The Evergreen Cassette, Time Bomb and Tale of a Fish. Then again, I have literally lived parts of my life on some of the other songs so it’s a given fact that I loved them. I observed that a lot of people in the audience were not familiar with Goldspot’s but after this gig, they would have all gone home with a new favourite band to look out for.

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Photographs by Aniket Dasgupta and Anurag Banerjee

Tim Overleigh, a famous sculptor has lost the love of his life, his confidence and his ability to sculpt. Drowning himself in the joy that whiskey offers, he pushes himself to near insanity. A chance meeting with a long lost friend, Andrew Traumbauer presents him with an opportunity to live once again.

The Canyon of Souls traces Overleigh’s journey along with six other men, to conquer the mysterious Canyon of Souls in Nepal, a land so pristine and pure that has been untouched by mankind. Their journey is just as rocky as the terrain they climb, peppered with a threat to their lives from the mysterious forces believed to exist around the Godesh range, icy cold winds, death and the ghosts that live within each of them.

Malfi uses simple language, infusing his narrative with just the right amount of sarcasm and humour. The descriptions of the beautiful Himalayan ranges are as vivid and colourful as the millions of hues in the sunsets described. Images of the breathtaking scenery played out effortlessly in my mind, making every scenario come alive. Apart from nature, Malfi’s accounts of the accidents and injuries that affect the characters made my stomach churn. He has a knack for making nightmares seem very, very real.

The narrative plays out in parts, the past and the present stitched together seamlessly in a smooth flow of words. While the start of one chapter may talk of scaling peaks, you suddenly find yourself reading about Overleigh’s past nightmares. Many a times such a non-linear narrative could leave the reader confused. This is not the case with this book. The links that Malfi makes do not jerk the reader’s vision or leave him lost in between the past and the present.

The title of the book suggests it to be one about a journey to a mysterious land. Neither did the cover nor the synopsis prepare me for the thriller-track that it took towards the end. The book was extremely slow-paced at the start, but picked up speed somewhere in the middle to a point where I couldn’t put it down.

While the central character has a strong portrayal, I felt that several other characters weren’t written at par. Though Tim Overleigh was meant to be the heart and soul of the book, it did tend to overshadow most of the others to a large extent. The subtlety with which the negativity in a character was written seemed to give the character a humane feel, but didn’t do justice to the ‘thriller’ that the novel was supposed to be.

The Canyon of Souls is an adventurous read, combining complex concepts such as mysticism and spirituality with something as simple as forgiveness and moving on in an engrossing narrative. It will take you a while to read it from cover to cover, but in the end every minute is worth it. This book is highly recommended to those who are in search of something that sticks with them apart from the regular fiction offerings.

 Nader (Peyman Moadi) and Simin (Leila Hatami) decide to call it quits after fourteen-years of married life that has resulted in the birth of a female offspring, Termeh (Sarina Farhadi). The wife wants to leave the country, but her husband insists on staying, for he has an Alzheimer’s-inflicted father to look after. The court rejects their application, and the impasse provokes Simin to leave Nader and Termeh, to reside with her parents. Being a working man, Nader hires a pregnant, devoutly religious maid, Razieh (Sareh Bayat) to look after the household and his father. However, things soon go awry, resulting in harrowing consequences, as the lives of entirely good people are mercilessly tossed into the storm.

 The characters, all fabulously portrayed, are made up of real flesh and blood, who touch a deeply resonating chord. Despite the theme of conflict being the chief motivator for the film, you find it difficult to choose sides, which is a sign of having endearing and genuinely human characters. Unlike most movies, where the central struggle is stretched to unrealistic proportions and the winner can be picked as easily as picking fallen money off the street, this one really makes you think as to who deserves your shower of sympathy. And once you reach that conclusion, the movie questions it, repeatedly, till you aren’t very certain anymore.

 The film presents interesting observations on some stark dichotomies – initially one between the poor who work for others and the well-off who pay them. In the highly conservative Iran, the poor lead a desolate life. They must ensure that cleaning a really old man after he has just helplessly wet his pants isn’t a sin. A woman of the middle-class, on the other hand, can abandon her family and live with her parents without a God being there to chastise her. The two lead females, Simin and Razieh, display this contrast with finesse.

 The other dichotomy is between the judgement of the world from the perspective of an adult and a child. The former knows the manners of the world, and he must act accordingly, regardless of whether it appeals to his conscience or bounds it with guilt. A child, with all his innocence, takes everything at face value, and holds veracity in the utmost importance. This difference is shared by Nader and his daughter, Termeh, and shows just how much things vary with age.

 The deafening silence in the film resonates of the emptiness prevalent in the lives of each of its characters – a man without his wife, a daughter without her mother, a woman who has lost her child, a jobless man; everyone has a vacuum in their life. What the film captures skilfully is the functioning of these flawed human beings in the equally scarred world. How we must bend the truth for the greater good, how misunderstandings turn into disasters, and how a person is often forced to balance too many things on his plate, adopting different roles at different times, because circumstances compel him to do so.

 Director Asghar Farhadi plants each element into the film with subtle, artistic perfection. There are observations that are passed onto the viewers, despite remaining unsaid. The highlight of the movie remains the fact that A Separation isn’t afraid to ask questions. Does a harmless accident which results in a heart-rending loss for the poor need to be heavily compensated by the rich perpetrator?

 I don’t even think that question has an answer.

Anurag,

The death of a dream is in many ways like the death of a child. The mourning of unbound potential.  Is that how you felt when your dream of us died?  

You and I are beings of silence.  We don’t owe each other any explanations. Words were always inconsequential, a shy smattering of fairy dust, but there are some things that I will not leave unsaid.

You must  must know that I left to escape.  I reached my place from yours in a daze, packed my shoes, money, and toothbrush, and boarded the first train to Puducherry, where I lived with a group of teenage Italian backpackers. I smoked pot, made love, celebrated the moonlight and read Austen and poetry with men and women I will never see again, and I felt alive with the joy of reuniting with a not so forgotten past, wrapped in novelty and a sense of denial.  I hugged my solitude, my aloneness, as we walked through the city (me fuelling their teenage radicalism) and I hugged them tighter in the night to feel an all pervasive sense of a thoroughly confused but independent self.  I was honoured and thrilled at the prospect of spending a married life with you Anurag, I truly was, but I equally dreaded losing the self I had spent building in the twenty five years before I knew you.

You always understood and respected my sense of self and space, but regarded my zealous guarding of the same as immature and selfish.  You were worried it would make me love and share less over time. Why? Walls and distance do not matter to these emotions. You know that.

You had left for Mumbai when I returned to Poona, and just as our silences whisper to each other, I knew you didn’t want to be found.  I fail to understand why there is something about a woman’s comfort with aloneness is such a threat to the male ego.  Why did it yours?

There are perhaps some questions that should remain unanswered, and there are some that just do. We came together because we questioned, and a part of me believes that we drifted apart because neither was man enough to face the answers, hovering above us like purple fairy dust.

When I read about you in the newspaper yesterday, after five long years, I was (quite characteristically) ridiculously annoyed to find you only to lose you again. I do hope you find your answers (perhaps this time hovering closer to the heart?) where you are going.  I found mine in Puducherry.

Farewell, my Wentworth.

I watched her fold the letter, slip it into a violet envelope, and gently place it in the palm of his dead hand.  His wife tried to keep the questions and suspicions away from her eyes as the pundit began chanting the final mantras until all there was left was violet perfume in a swirl of musk and fairy dust.

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Illustration by Priyadarshini Sivakumar

The five-member band hit The High Spirits in Pune on January 14 in what made for an evening that can barely be forgotten. The band is a guaranteed treat with one of stand-up’s favourites, Vir Das on vocals; the very talented and gifted Sidd Coutto on drums; one of the nation’s finest, Warren Mendonsa on guitar; the supremely endearing Gaurav Gupta on bass and the impressive Kaizad Gherda on keys, not to forget his boyish charm.

Warren Mendonsa

What do you expect when you have four incredible musicians and one insanely witty guy in the house? A riot is what. Right from the minute they started and through the 16 odd songs in the set, there wasn’t a moment that didn’t have the crowd laughing their asses off. Think a bunch of retards sitting around and making songs about the most random things around; except in the case of Alien Chutney, add a ton of quality and style to it. Not to mention, humour.

The unending flow of spontaneous wit that Vir Das keeps throwing at you makes you wonder how the man manages to do it all. And if you are familiar with the nation’s independent music, you know that all the musicians are right on top of their game. Sidd Coutto plays more instruments that you can credit him for, Warren Mendonsa can do things with a guitar that you couldn’t even think of (No pun. Okay, maybe a little!) Gaurav Gupta plays with a bunch of stellar bands and Kaizad Gherda adds supporting vocals besides playing the keys in a way that makes you go weak in the knees.

Vir Das

Some find the lyrics incredibly funny, some just plain pointless. But most will agree that they’re entertaining as hell. Alien Chutney can be one of the most weirdly awesome gigs you’ve attended. Though the members of the band are all a little too familiar, as Sidd Coutto put it, “every collection of people means different music.”

We won’t let out any details of the show. The fun is for you to experience. So the next time you see them playing in your town and you wonder what the fuck they do, be a little more curious and go attend the show. Believe us, you won’t regret your decision.

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Photographs by Aniket Dasgupta and Swathy Sethumadhavan

It is evident that only an experienced journalist could have written this book. That’s where the detailed writing style of the author, Oswald Pereira comes in. Pereira, a veteran journalist himself has expertly written about the various faces of the world we live in. The three main characters, Oscar, the journalist, Donald, the Police Commissioner and Narayan Swamy, the “social worker” (read don) share a relationship that can be translated to the connection between the media, the police and the underworld itself.

‘The Newsroom’ is the ‘grand old dame’ of journalism and is respected for its accurate reporting, impeccable language and no-nonsense policies. Oscar, a crime reporter, finds treasure in the form of a tip-off given to him by Donald, the Police Commissioner. What follows is a series of escapes, hoaxes and a lingering question about the whereabouts of the don, Narayan Swamy.

What struck me immediately about the book was its non-linear narrative. The author cleverly goes back and forth in his story and neatly pieces all the parts together by the end of it. I like how the reader is left wondering when a certain portion of the story will be completed. The event in question is narrated to us before talking about the various steps that led to it. This is repeatedly twice or thrice till the reader is used to this style of writing.

I could imagine this book in the form of a movie – it evokes immense visual imagery due to its fast-paced action. However, this is also one of its negatives. The story is overloaded with information. Apart from the three main characters, there are many others who are given almost equal importance. Because of this, there were a lot of jerks in the book as the story went from one character to the other. While this is what the author must have intended to do, there were some unnecessary elements that could have been avoided. For instance, I felt that far too many words were devoted into describing the background of characters who didn’t play a significant role throughout the book.

Nevertheless, the transparency with which this book has been written deserves due credit. One gets an insight into the lives of people who fight for their jobs and can do anything to sustain them. A lot of metaphors have been subtly used to describe a lot of places or people. For instance, the Bombay Press Club is aptly referred to as the ‘house of glass’.

All in all, it would definitely be a good choice to pick this book up and read it. I would advise you to not finish it in one go in spite of how fast-paced it is. Take your time and read this one patiently – only then will you be able to grasp the many characters and twists in the story.

I have always been fascinated by caricatures and cartoons and just like most of us, music has played a dear role in shaping up my personality. I wanted to improve my skills to illustrate and for quite some time I was looking around for a subject. After a few days of searching and procrastrinating, I started with sketching some Indian musicians whom I’ve been following and am huge fan of. After three days of sketching a variety of faces, I decided to trasfer them onto my laptop. Gradually, I started building concepts around all these sketches and making illustrative posters out of them. That resulted in the #sonofatoon project where I am giving away these posters for free on my microsite. Indeed, it was scary to begin with and it still is in a way, as I am slightly worried about my sketching and imitating skills. But then showcasing my work to the public and letting them opine and give feedback seems like the best way to improve.

Ahmed Faiyaz: To begin with, tell us when, where and how you began writing stories.

Ronald Malfi: I began writing when I was fairly young.  I recall the first typewriter I owned – an old manual Olympia that seemed to weigh about fifty pounds.  I was around eleven years old then, and I would come home from school and sit in front of that typewriter and hammer out a few pages.  I was fascinated by the act of telling stories, and I each time I would finish one I would immediately start a new one.  I still have all those old stories pack away in an old steamer trunk in my basement.  There must be fifty or sixty of them in there.

AF: How long did it take for you to write The Canyon of Souls? Did it take any research, given that it is set in Nepal?

RM: The writing took about three or four months.  The research took longer, because I knew very little about mountaineering or that region of the world.  I read a lot of non-fiction accounts of people’s treks up certain mountains and I was fascinated by much of it.  I realized that many of the books that impressed me the most were older books and there was a certain charm in the simplicity of the climb and the tools they used back then.  I attempted to capture this in my book, wanting the climb itself to feel undated. I wrote about climbing equipment that may seem dated to fervent modern climbers, but I romanticized the climb for the readers because it harkens to an older time.  Ideally, I wanted the book to appear timeless.

Ronald Malfi

AF: Tim Overleigh, seems like a complex, brooding character who also has many strengths, his tenacity for one. How much of Tim do you see in yourself? Or is he influenced by someone else you’ve met?

RM: Tim is a man mourning the mistakes of his past—particularly his failed relationship with his dead wife—and that, in turn, has made him shy away from the life he once had for the life of a recluse and an alcoholic.  Those attributes are solely Tim’s, though as a human being, I can attest to having made mistakes in my past, in various relationships or with how I’ve handled certain situations in my life.  I find that when I write, I am more honest with myself as a person while also being somewhat more daring with my characters.  This comes through in just how far I enabled Tim to sink into his depression, and how far I enabled him to go to get out of it.  I think if I met Tim Overleigh at a bar, I might have a drink or two with him, comment on how he seemed like a nice enough guy and then left him to his demons.

 AF: Why Nepal? Were you influenced by a journey you made?

RM: I have never been to Nepal, but after thinking of writing a novel about a mountaineering expedition, I could think of no other place.  There is a certain mystique, a certain beauty, in what I believe Nepal to be.  Perhaps it is the same way some people might think of New York City or Alaska if they’ve never actually been there.  When I started reading texts about Nepal, to include the geography, politics, and (most interesting to me) the spirituality, I knew it was the perfect setting to tell this story.  The book itself is about spirituality, and I felt that setting it in a place like Nepal kept the spiritual aspect of the novel grounded in reality, whereas it might have seemed forced or unbelievable had I set it anywhere else.

AF: Did you find it difficult to move forward at any point during the writing process?          

RM: Each book is a different process.  With The Canyon of Souls, the writing went very quickly.  No doubt you’ve heard writers talk about books that write themselves – well, this was one of those books.  Also, as part of my general writer’s rule, I always end my day of writing right in the middle of a scene, so I know exactly where to pick up and start again the following day.  This way, I’m not faced with staring at a blank computer screen wondering what to write next.

AF: Looking back – given a choice, would you change any part of the novel or frame it differently?

RM: I might rethink my desire to have the climb itself resemble some of those older climbs I read about in books, and make it more modern, and perhaps get more detailed in the intricacies of climbing.  Avid climbers have read the book here in the U.S. and have said they had perceived it to be more of a “climbing” novel as opposed to a thriller when they first picked it up in a bookstore.  While it certainly is a thriller, I think I would have focused more on the technical aspects of the climb to appease those readers as well.  But I guess you can’t please everyone!

AF: Do you believe The Canyon of Souls can be made into a film someday?

RM: I think it could be made into a great film.  I tend to be a visual writer, and I am very focused on characters’ development and interaction.  Throw in a little Hollywood special effects and I think it would be a very enjoyable film.  I can almost imagine the gorgeous vistas of the mountain ranges on the big screen – that would certainly be something to see.

AF: Certain books usually leave an everlasting print in our memory. Which books have had the most influence on you and your writing? Your favorite genre when it comes to reading; and writing?

RM: There is so much!  When I was a kid, I burned through every Stephen King book I could get my hands on, and while I don’t read as much of King’s stuff today as I once had, I think his writing was instrumental in giving my younger self the discipline and drive to sit down at that old typewriter at age eleven and write.  Ernest Hemingway’s novels also resonate with me.  Studying Hemingway’s prose, one cannot overlook his economy of word; of how momentous things are spoken of so simply.  It is beautiful writing.  Also, I’m a big believer in Hemingway’s “ice-berg theory” of storytelling, where the author only lets the readers see the tip of the ice berg – the underlying conflict; the discordant relationships between the characters is what the reader must surmise as what the rest of the ice-berg might look like.

AF: What next do we see from Ronald Malfi?

RM: The Canyon of Souls is my first publication to come out in India, but I’m hoping to continue working with the folks at Grey Oak in publishing some of my other titles.  It’s a wonderful feeling to have one’s work embraced by another country, another culture.

Generally, when I look at Facebook pages of bands that have Indian members in them, they generally have influences of foreign nature. But this band, they have artists like Kishore Kumar and SD Burman BEFORE they name their other influences such as The Beatles and Beach Boys. These influences are very clearly seen in their music. To tell you a little about the band, they have a very unique way of making music. Easily one of the best bands to come out of America in a VERY long time, the band has been able to make remakes of classic songs such as Kishore Kumar’s ‘Ina Mina Deeka’ which have become famous all throughout the USA and The UK!

The band hit popularity in India almost instantly after their first album, Tally of the Yes Men released in 2007 in USA and UK (2008 for India under SONY BMG). Before the release of their album, they released the single ‘Friday’.

Actually, as an experiment, I played this song to a few people I met. These are some of the responses I found most interesting.

“That’s really an Indian man singing? Why the hell do the other bands I’ve heard try so hard if they’re capable of this kind of music?!”

“Soothing, and makes me happy. Must check out more of this band!”

Right? All the more reason for you to give this band a listen.

Their new album, And The Elephant Is Dancing is produced by Jeff Peters, the engineer of Beach Boys. A digital version of this album was released on 2^nd November, 2009, and the physical release is still yet to be announced. The digital copy of the album has so far got some really good responses. Some said that it felt as though George Harrison never left India, and that it was a classic and timeless gem.

Apart from albums, they’ve done a lot of work for TV Shows such as The OC, Perfect Couples, The T.O. Show, and also, the Emmy-nominated How I Met Your Mother. In the world of movies, the movie Run Fatboy Run has a soundtrack made by these guys.

It has been a LONG time since I’ve come across a band that GETS to you even before the entire listen of the first song is done! This band is really one that you don’t’ want to miss. And for all of you in India, good news is coming your way! Goldspot is touring India in late January and as part of the tour they’ll be visiting six cities starting with IIM Lucknow’s Manfest on the 21st. The other dates are as follows

Jan 22: Blue Frog (Delhi)
Jan 24: Blue FROG (Mumbai)
Jan 25: Hard Rock Cafe (Pune)
Jan 27: Hard Rock Cafe (Hyderabad)
Jan 28: Hard Rock Cafe (Bangalore) 

You definitely want to be there for at least one of these gigs! The band’s played some really cool shows as well. They’ve opened for Travis, Death Cab For Cutie, Franz Ferdinand and Bon Jovi. All the more reason for you to see them live!

Those were the reactions I received from folks who managed to watch the movie, Gandu. However, for some reason, I loved it. It managed to do exactly what post-modernist films are supposed to do i.e. upset the mainstream films and its audiences.

This brings us to the man who has the potential to kick Indian filmmaking in the ass and push it towards becoming a more mature and expressive medium, Q (Qaushik Mukherjee). I’ve been following Q for a while now; it all started with the trailer of Gandu. One thing led to another and I ended up watching two documentaries made by him – Le Pocha and Love in India.  The former talks about the genesis and current scenario of Bangla alternative music whereas the latter deals with relationships, love, sexuality and everything that connects them to an Indian scenario. And it’s probably in these films that I can trace back Q’s fascination for showcasing reality.

When I ask him about what he thinks of documentaries, he snappily replies -

“I guess making documentaries is the truest form of film making that exists today. It’s looking at things from a different perspective. Well, it’s about time we move on and look at things from a new perspective and a new direction”

I ask him my second question. Are the so-called mainstream films dumbing down our audiences?

“Yes”, he replies. “That’s why I never watch these films. They are highly addictive and easily influence the viewers. I think they are very dangerous.”

However I can say without a doubt that Q is more of a danger to the mainstream in our country. He defines the dreams of many like me. Still, in an industry filled with wannabes who are happy making their formula-based John Tucker Must Die rip-offs; I am part of a minority. However Q and his film-making process have given us hope. A guy equipped with a consumer-level DSLR can make a film that is in high demand for distribution in foreign market! This is forgetting the numerous film festivals the movie went to and the number of awards it won. Also, we are talking money here.

Again, conventional filmmakers do have a reason to worry. “They should worry”, he says.  “And it will be a very different space in 10 years. Just look at the way the audience’s tastes have changed. Expectations have been sustained. Suspension of disbelief is no longer an issue. And it’s this change, where a low budget production is as good as a conventionally produced film. Even Hollywood filmmakers are looking to these new means to make movies. It’s not that the conventional form will die, but there will be a paradigm shift in the way films are made.”

Gandu

You sure do need more than just balls to make something like Gandu in India, there’s no denying that. And to make it in such a radical way breaking down the laws of filmmaking is just the stepping point of any post-modernist film. So what led Q to experiment?  “I guess I can experiment because I am self-taught”, he says.  “I wouldn’t have the problems a literate filmmaker would face. So there are certain things that I can do without thinking too much. What you call non-conventional is very conventional according to me. If you see this movie called The Man with the Movie Camera you will see that it has very similar premise of a man capturing reality that surrounded him.”

 So was he pissed off when the screening of Gandu was suddenly cancelled at the Naya Film Festival?

He wasn’t. He actually knew it would end up that way. He says, “I was apprehensive about Bombay anyway. And then the fact is we already had an underground screening in India. And when you are trying to have an ‘overground’ show in what is called the most advanced city in the country and it gets cancelled, you just realise you were right all along- Bombay is not what Bombay pretends to be.  So I wasn’t all that surprised.”

Work in progress

Q, along with his friend Spandan Chakroborthy have set up one of India’s most innovative and expressive production houses; Overdose. Speaking of that, Q says, “It’s less of a production house and more of an art collaborative. It’s a platform for new and different ideas. I realized if I had to make the films that I want to make, I need to produce them myself. We are into the business of developing counter culture.”

So what about all the sexuality in his work; not many people are appreciative of it. He candidly says, “I never set out to make films that people will watch. The development of counter culture is synonymous with the voice of protest. Living in what is largely a patriarchal society my voice of protest will largely be a sexual one. It started with the pitch of Love in India and I knew that this was the path to take. It started very organically but I later realised that this was a facet I needed to explore. An individual’s identity is directly linked to his sexuality.”

With the team of Love in India

Q is known to work with a motley crew of people close to him of which he says, “They work without any strings attached. They work with me for the relationship I have with them. The team needs to completely trust me to be able to pull off whatever I intend to in the film. We don’t have scripts we don’t have anything written down hence in a situation like that it helps knowing the people you are working with. It’s not a one film thing- it’s a continuum.”

So what did Q feel when he won the National Award for Love in India?
“I was surprised. I felt it was a little weird but then the statement of the jury kinda made sense. It’s about making films that are socially relevant and how they define the way things are in our nation. I think the award gave me the certificate of being an Indian; a responsible politically and socially aware Indian.”

Ask him about whether he thinks the Indian audiences are ready for him yet?

I don’t give a fuck. I’ll make the films I wanna make. They better be prepared.

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All images belong to Overdose Productions