Neeta is not of those village hicks who came to Mumbai with the Bollywood dream. Blessed with a great body and looks that could kill, she was raised in a high-class family in some place in India.
She wanted the best of everything: a sexy Mediterranean man, a large flat with a sea view, the finest alcohol, the most fashionable clothes. For a time it was happening, Mr Right was in the pocket, as were invites to the most exclusive "page 3" parties. Work wasn't stable but there was a man ready to maintain the high-maintenance beauty.
So what happens when Mr Right turns out to be a jerk, who was cheating on you without even a slight prick on his conscience? What happens when you are forced out of that plus South Bombay flat and forced to pool rent to share a mediocre apartment in a mediocre locality?
Men still wanted Neeta. She was eye-candy for the guys; she was nice to be seen with in public. Something like a flavour of ice-cream that tasted good for a few weeks, until a better variety popped up. They all turned out to be jerks, but at least, they were exactly the kind of men that Dad would not approve of. It gave Neeta a thrill to consciously hang out with troublesome men. The patterns stayed the same. Disloyal jerks, more alcohol and hangovers that would last through the afternoon heat
Alcohol, drugs and cigarettes take their toll on the best of God-given looks. Mumbai offers freedom, she believed. Freedom to be, but with the bills mounting up, getting by tended to be a problem. The solution lies in the west, Europe, Chicago... somewhere else! Life isn't fair... Why shouldn't Neeta have it all for nothing like some other page 3 women?
She wanted the best of everything: a sexy Mediterranean man, a large flat with a sea view, the finest alcohol, the most fashionable clothes. For a time it was happening, Mr Right was in the pocket, as were invites to the most exclusive "page 3" parties. Work wasn't stable but there was a man ready to maintain the high-maintenance beauty.
So what happens when Mr Right turns out to be a jerk, who was cheating on you without even a slight prick on his conscience? What happens when you are forced out of that plus South Bombay flat and forced to pool rent to share a mediocre apartment in a mediocre locality?
Men still wanted Neeta. She was eye-candy for the guys; she was nice to be seen with in public. Something like a flavour of ice-cream that tasted good for a few weeks, until a better variety popped up. They all turned out to be jerks, but at least, they were exactly the kind of men that Dad would not approve of. It gave Neeta a thrill to consciously hang out with troublesome men. The patterns stayed the same. Disloyal jerks, more alcohol and hangovers that would last through the afternoon heat
Alcohol, drugs and cigarettes take their toll on the best of God-given looks. Mumbai offers freedom, she believed. Freedom to be, but with the bills mounting up, getting by tended to be a problem. The solution lies in the west, Europe, Chicago... somewhere else! Life isn't fair... Why shouldn't Neeta have it all for nothing like some other page 3 women?
No comments:
Post a Comment