“No, no men, I am wanting to go to Cannes for dat film festival, de Country of Honour ting.”
Illustration/Uday Mohite
Lobo Lobo came over, dressed in a flamboyant swashbuckling outfit with a peculiar Hercule Poirot moustache.
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“Monsieur Dikuna men, I wish to travel to le France…”
“Why France? Do you wish to say, ‘bonjour’ to Emmanuel Macron?”
“No, no men, I am wanting to go to Cannes for dat film festival, de Country of Honour ting.”
“Uhm… why do you think you are qualified to represent India?”
“Fust tings fust, if you look at de names of peepuls who are going, you tink dey are qualified? Have any of dem seen even one Satyajit Ray fillum, or any of dat Truffaut fellows movies… can dey even pronounce Quasimodo? Arre, one of de main persons gave one Amrish Puri Mogambo type dialogue. To shoot all de traitors, ‘ow he can be in charge of fillums and entertainment now? Annudder one of de chosen few is a Instagram influencer, dressing in de skimpy clodes… all dey want is to have a holiday in France and tick it off in dere bucket list! Main Cannes ko gaya… party kiya aur wapas aaya,” Lobo Lobo pronounced heatedly.
“You are being a little cynical, it is our 75th year of independence... it’s a privilege that India is the country of honour,” I said.
“But wot are dere credentials to go to dis prestigious cinematic event?”
“My friend, there is Shekhar Kapur, AR Rahman, Nawaz Siddiqui… these are great men.”
“And Akshay Kumar… and dat one Pooja sumting?”
“You got me there,” I had to agree.
“See I’m aksing de all important question, why I’m not invited?”
“But what is so French about you?”
“I know all de lyrics start to finish of de Abba song, ‘Voulez Vous’,” he said
“The lyrics are in English, not French.”
“Vouz le vouz couche avec moi?”
“Do you even know what that means, and that’s another English song, Lobo Lobo!”
“Okay, Bossie, I took de tuitions at dat Allaince Francais in your wachyoucall, Flora Fountain.”
“Do you remember any words or sentences in French?”
“Yes… oui, porquois, croissant (pronounced ‘croisoint’).”
“Right Lobo Lobo, I’m convinced that you have no qualifications to represent us at the Cannes Film Festival!”
“Can I showcase to you my French-Indian culture?”
‘There you have me stumped… please elaborate.”
“Let me show you my contributions, in de world of fashion… see, I have co-created a fusion line, wid dat duffer son of mine, Ronaldo—he tinks he is de desi Ralph Lauren. So voila (pronounced ‘voyla’), I’ll dress up and show you a uneeq Indo-French outfit.”
Lobo Lobo vanished and reappeared dressed like a cross between Ranveer Singh and Inspector Clouseau from the Pink Panther.
“This is great, but wots haute couture got do with the fine art of cinema?”
“Arrey Dikuna men, I was oni showing what I would be wearing for de ‘Red Carpet’ event!”
“Ah!” I said
“Now to de films… see I have produced tree fillums… on Indian French teems.”
I was gobsmacked with curiosity.
“See men, after dat fallow, wochyoucall, made ‘Kashmir Files’, everyone is making, dis Files, dat Files, de udder files… so I’m producing a fillum, about one Goan catering student, who has a dream to take pork vindaloo to France—So dat is called—‘Candolim to Cannes Files’.
Den in my second filum, tree kids, Pappu, Sanju and Meenu, are separated at birth in Mahim, and somehow find themselves back in time in Paris, in 1625 wid separate parents—it is called ‘Amaraine Alexandre Antoinette’.
And finally, an Indian actress, who has made enemies with the whole Indian cinema industry, goes to Paris to find herself, and the true meaning of life. De title is—‘Que Queen de Nepotiste’.”
“That’s quite impressive.
Lobo Lobo.”
“Accha, Monsieur Dikuna men I’m off to Kala Niketan Furnishing in Bhayandhar East.”
“Why?”
“Since, I’m not invited to the Cannes Film Festival, I tought of going to Kala Niketan and buying and carrying my own red carpet.”
Rahul daCunha is an adman, theatre director/playwright, photographer and traveller. Reach him at rahul.dacunha@mid-day.com
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