Target audience for this post:
- People who have watched Telugu movies of the 70s
- People who find a special joy in watching the stud-heroes of Telugu movies of the 70s
- My cousin, a fan of Telugu movies of the 70s, who will stop talking to me after reading this post
- Nice, sweet, wonderful people who will read anything I write (and hopefully not notice my use of multiple adjectives to sweet-talk them)
Yes, this is a something new I am trying out. Niche markets are common and products are often designed for specific target audiences. So why not my posts? (Saying this, she hid under the table while the Marketing MBAs in the audience heckled and laughed at her) Considering that I write about a lot of arbit things, and not everyone who comes to my blog will find every pearl of wisdom to be .. well .. a pearl, I shall henceforth warn you of the impending attack so you have a chance to escape. Of course, if you do not fit the target audience and still have an opinion to share, kindly ignore my attempt to stereotype you, and feel free to comment. Moving on to the subject of the post ..
A conversation with a friend reminded me of this. There used to be a Telugu actor with the impressive name of Sobhan Babu who was a firm believer in the number three. He often delivered punchlines in multiples of three. Imagine this — 45-year old Sobhan Babu in industrial strength makeup and an oh-so-believable wig that is perfectly gelled into place save the one curl that dangerously hangs on his forehead. We shall call this fine specimen of manhood — The Agitated Hero. Enter harassed wife waiting at home, looking grungy and grimey with an expression of perpetual suffering. I am unable to feed your three kids, the expression cries. The agitated hero has just lost his job. He needs solace, he needs support and comfort. He takes a step forward, pauses, flicks back the gelled curl with the back of his hand, takes two more steps towards his wife who stands in front of him and calls out in a voice full of anguish — Lakshmiii, Lakshmiiiii, Lakshmiiiiiii!
For anyone who doubts the effectiveness of this scene — there isn’t a single person in the audience who has any doubt left in their mind that the heroine’s name is Lakshmi.
That concludes our pointless peek into a cinematic moment from my childhood.