Kistimaat on one rain swept afternoon

October 17, 2014

Kistimaat on one rain swept afternoonSince when did the Bangladesh Police allow its officers to wear slim fit shirts? And, as far as I know, the service weapon has to be returned to the official police maalkhana (arsenal) after duty. But of course, these are drab facts that one is not interested in the cinema hall. Lost in the world of Kistimaat, what we want is to leave mundane facts and dive into the ridiculous plus the raunchy. That too must be topped by fiery (read vacuous) lines of integrity and idealism. Hence, when the line: ‘ami eshechi adorsher moshal haate niye meaning’, ‘I have come carrying the torch of principles’, the audience erupts into uncontrollable squeals of delight.
I am sitting on one dark corner of course, unable to join in. What can I do….forgot to take a swig from the Tequila bottle left at home!
It was a rain swept afternoon and while waiting to get in Balaka Cineworld, a movie theatre par excellence, I ran into the couple who for a long time rented a small flat at my grandmother’s place (where else) for their trysts.
The guy at that time was recently divorced and hence wanted to keep his new relation a secret. Naturally, my name flashed in his mind – for everything dark and shady this is the man who has the guts to tolerate utter nonsense on screen with marked courage.
If someone can muster the guts to go and watch local films year in year out, chances are high that you can make that fellow do a lot of daring stuff. Why? Simple….the regular intake of celluloid excrement blurs the senses!
So, just before the film began, I headed for the toilet asking the couple to wait but saw no trace of them after coming back – they surely did not want a third eye to be witnessing their in-cinema smooching!
Right, to go back to the film – apart from the GQ police officer Durjoy (Arefin Shuvo) we have the aspiring model Piya (Achol) who has no scruples in baring her navel before the camera but is unwilling to make a few strategic compromises to get some advertising deals.
When a garment manufacturer, who spends time ogling at women on his computer, calls Piya, the girl is in seventh heaven. Of course, she is shocked when the job comes with a condition – total submission to the lascivious garment owner who claps his teeth at the sight of nubile women.
Don’t blame him…Achol tries to look delicious! However, there is one problem. She wants to be a well-known model, steal the sleep of many, by exposing her curves but won’t permit anyone to get to taste of what in cine language we artistically call: ‘jouboner khati modhu’ (the pure honey of youth).
In the meantime, Arefin Shuvo is of course the police officer who has joined the service with the oath to serve the right and the just (yeah! Heard that crap so many times). No senior officer intervenes in his work since he has dealt with Godfathers and criminals with a ‘no-prisoner, kill all’ approach.
Interesting….couldn’t help but recalling a real life brave police officer who, during elections, refused to leave a voting centre, sensing the possibility of ballot rigging at the order of a real life political honcho.
At that time, no government official stood up for the man in uniform, thus leaving the media to come to his rescue.
This ‘honest police officer’ formula has been done to death, yet the culture continues. Why the hell did I not bring my Tequila bottle?
Durjoy and Piya meet and it’s love at first bump! They are unmarried and live in the same building. One day, Piya, who is so careful of protecting her modesty, leaves the flat door open because she is expecting a friend and goes to the toilet to take a shower.
Coming out in a towel, she finds Durjoy in the drawing room. ‘How did you get in?’ In a sudden moment of consternation, she opens and re-arranges the towel, not noticing that Durjoy, facing a mirror, has seen all! Mamma, kopaaal, kopaaaal!
There is loud whistling in the hall……women in the back row laugh wickedly! The titillation is taken further since Durjoy has come to ask for some ‘milk’. There is a lesson here for the bad guys who spill out sex without subtlety.
Bhai, instead of grabbing the heroine like a janoar (animal) maybe, you can try the ‘Dudh lagbe’ tactic!
Arey chaame diya chikone is the way to do it…..
The villain of the movie is naturally the popular baddie of the time-Misha Sawdagor. Fanatical and driven by all thoughts evil, he takes the mud therapy to control his nerves.
The best part of the movie is the song where the hero and the heroine don 70’s clothes to a hip song. An idea pinched from Bollywood but done nicely, although there is one massive flaw – the car shown is a 1982 KE70.
Plot is pulled to the limit and I begin to develop a headache. Come out in the rain and stop by a tea-stall. Bhai, one cup cha, chini kom dudh beshi…….

-With New Age input

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