"Dear God, please mujhe koi achcha sa gora chitta Angreji dila do taki mujhe kisi kale kaloote Indian se shaadi nahi karni pade". Preity Zinta's character in the grossly overdone mess that Jhoom Barabar Jhoom turned out to be says this prayer at a church somewhere in the suburbs of Southall in London. What she meant, if I am paraphrasing her correctly, is, God, please let me marry any goddamn lout as long as he is fair and British and not some half decent Indian because my life would be ruined otherwise. This perhaps could be the most racist statement I have heard in the recent times. Initially I was shocked, agitated and aghast. But as I sat through the unenduring tragedy, I realised that this wasn't a problem with Shaad Ali's latest catastrophic tragedy alone but becoming more of a crisis trend. We just aren't comfortable with Indianness. Anything glamorised, a la Bollywood, has to necessarily be foreign. Be it locations, clothing, or just plain upbringing. Indianness just isn't good enough. Yet we are the first ones to harp about our seemingly rich Indian culture, our Bharatiya Sanskriti and shallow transient value system. Its all plain hogwash. How else would you explain these irritating observations, correct me if I am wrong:

Every "cool NRI" couple gets married full angreji ishtyle, with the bride in white (I thought Indian Brides wore read people! White was for widows) and groom in black (mourning color again). I dont remember when western countries insisted immigrant citizens to change marriage laws and get matrimony approved in churches alone.

All romantic dreams are extravagantly graphic, complete with a song taking them around Paris, Amsterdam and London.

The hero and heroine live in Tudor Palace, or The Ritz or some other vulgarly exhorbiant foreign hotel which could not be their house by any stretch of imagination, atlest not when the house is supposedly located in Chandni Chowk.

It is unthinkable for the heroine to order anything Indian, wines, aspargus or some other gddamn think I cant think the name of

Everyone treats Manhattan or Times Square of their own backyard, whoever said it was upmarket, crowded and the shopping centre for New Yorkers! Ask Saif, he must've courted a dozen damsels on its near EMPTY corners (what the hell is the point)

Finally, and for the upteenth time, the 'goras' out there dont give a damn who you are. So stop showing them as useless cronies who fall for anything stupid, it is soooo un-Indian