There seems to have been some misunderstanding about my last posting about Mahesh. I think this is where my sense of humor, somewhat dark, has been twisted into some reading that I was angry with him. Mahesh has been nothing but supportive of Goner since it’s beginnings. What happened in Mumbai was that I felt frustrated and awkward sitting waiting for the publishers to respond to me. I met with Mahesh who immediately put himself at my disposal, but the publishers never came back with concrete things to do. Finally, out of frustration I went to talk to him and he concurred that there was no sense struggling with this, best to move on and let things fall where they are inevitably headed. The humor is essential here. Mahesh sat down with me immediately upon my arrival in Mumbai, and he is a very busy man. So if anyone out there has the idea that he dropped the ball, it is a mistaken impression. I am forever grateful to him for bringing my book to Penguin, no matter what happens, he was the one to push the project home… I extend my thanks to Mahesh again for all his help.

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2 Responses to

  1. ansjanet says:

    Chapter something Goner

    “Until he arrived in the room itself, UG was always asking,
    “Where is he? Where is that bastard?“
    Mahesh Bhatt, his close friend, voice in the media, foil and biographer, finally showed up one afternoon. The big voiced Bollywood film director/producer stepped into the room as if stepping on to a stage, tugging at the expanse of his baggy black shirt, wielding cell phones like derringers. Staring wide eyed at UG from across the room, he was a big round man with a noble face and large dramatic eyes. He was dressed in a uniform of black shirt and cuffed blue jeans. Halting theatrically just inside the door, he shouted across the room in a booming voice that made us all flinch,
    “I HAVE COME!!!”
    “OhmyGod!” UG muttered, recoiling and covering his ears, then he shouted at him,
    “Hey! Where have you been?”
    Ignoring the question, Mahesh advanced to center stage, stalking like the hunter of a wild animal poised opposite him, growling and howling toward his prey.
    “HEY!” Why aren’t you dead yet?!” UG said while he was only half way across the room.
    Suddenly he was the wild beast, subdued by the presence of the master magician.
    “UG NOOOO! Yahhhgh! You are killing me already! I am a young man! I can’t go yet!”
    Again, the hunter, he made a gun out of his fingers and pointed it at him.
    “Help me!!” He said to us, sparkling eyes darting around the room, “I have to kill him before he kills me!”
    Crouching again, teasingly threatening to kill him, with sidelong glances at all of us he came side by side with UG, flopped down on the floor unceremoniously, legs crossed, eyes darting. Then he grabbed at UG’s leg, which recoiled as he shouted at Mahesh with feigned surprise,
    “Hey! You bastard!”
    So he grabbed and shook the chair leg instead, shouting.
    “Aaaagh! UG!!”
    Suddenly UG looked like a tiny bird, frail and fragile. Mahesh now suddenly transformed again, this time into a wild boar at the feet of a delicate crystal, yet completely safe. UG put his hands over his ears again, matting the white hair to his head, as Mahesh yowled out a Moslem prayer,
    “Mahai lala hail la! Allaah AKBAR!!”
    What a blast of fresh air he was. So much energy! He laughed as UG shouted,
    “HINDI MOTBOLIAY! CHOPRA HOU!” right back at him. Explaining to him. “Hey I mean YOU! That means, SHUT UP, just keep your BIG-MOUTH-SHUT in Hindi.”
    Then Mahesh got up and went behind him,
    “UG! How is your breast today?” reaching down to his chest as if to fondle the evidence of his glandular explosion, made famous in Mahesh’s biography of him.
    “Hey you, Get away from me!” UG shouted. Recovering from the shock of this fearless familiarity, I realized it was all in fun for both of them, there was no real shock from UG. I’d hadn’t seen anyone yet who could match Mahesh for sheer energy and balls-on fun and games with the tiny sage, and UG seemed to love it. He was concealing a smile throughout the performance.”

    I saw the humor in it, but then, I read Goner … twice : )

    My humor can be dark too. It’s peppered with bright spots but short bursts of writing can sometimes leave the reader confused.
    The humor comes through very well in Goner.
    I hope the humor translates in India. From hanging around, I can tell Indians like to laugh very much. I know there are distinct differences in tastes between cultures. I only know I thought it was fun to try to make Dr. Swamy laugh and I even think it worked a couple of times!

    Hope all is going well with the new writing. Look forward to the read.

  2. Charlotte says:

    To me this was obvious. But I continue to be astounded at how no one knows what the fuck anyone else is saying.

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