WAVE OF UTTER GIBBERISH

I hate Chetan Bhagat.

I never thought I would ever get this kind of a feeling. But I did, within less than a moment, today, when I was at Crossword.

Now, lemme take a moment here to dwell a little bit into my relationship with the author.

I was in 11th standard, when I read my first Chetan Bhagat book. Or rather when he wrote and published his first book. And I instantly fell in love with it. I gifted the book to many of my friends on their birthdays, and the popularity of the book spread like wild fire. Suddenly everyone was reading Five Point Someone, communities sprung up on Orkut, and people started having competitions of who had read Five Point Someone the most number of times.

Then came One Night @ The Call Centre.

And then 3 Mistakes Of My Life.

And somehow I started liking him lesser and lesser.

Somehow I still felt a little… how do I put this, ummm… I felt a little ‘committed’ to him. Like I had to ‘like’ him, in spite of him not writing stuff good enough anymore, just because I had immensely liked his first book. Yeah, I am that kind of a person. I feel like I am cheating and being unfaithful to admit that someone I like, or used to like is not so great anymore. But yeah, that is more or less how I felt. I used to try and find something good, something positive about his books. And I failed and failed.

And then came the final blow: 2 States.

I read that book and swore to never read another Chetan Bhagat book ever in my life. But I still didn’t hate him. He had, through his book, given me some precious moments, some unforgettable, funny, happy moments. And for that I was happy.

But I totally lost it at Crossword today.

I was an hour early for a show at E-Square. And with another book lover by my side, I stepped into Crossword to kill time till the show. I turned straight to the fiction section and browsed through the different titles. I added a couple to my list of must-buys – a list that is never empty. At one time there were about 34 books in the list, and the least number of books to be in that list has been 5. I turned to the book lover with me – Mom – and observed her as she leafed through some of the Marathi titles. And then I turned to the rack that is near the billing counter at any Crossword store – I am not sure if it is one of New Arrivals, or of Recent Best Sellers. But I turned towards it. And I wished I hadn’t.

Out of about 42 books arranged six in a row in total seven rows, roughly 30 books were of the kind that I call ‘the Chetan Bhagat genre’ – one average student, smitten by one ravishing (or maybe not so ravishing, if the author is trying to be different) girl, stuck in a college he doesn’t like, with professors who hate him, and then there is the lowest low, and then something happens and everything is eventually alright. Invariably there is a hostel involved, so it has to be an IIM or IIT where the story is based. Then there are the parents with high expectations, the topper who is waved in the face as an example at every possible chance, and our rebel who always scores less and has friends who make him feel less guilty – more often than not by throwing a booze party.

Just looking at the shelves made me sick.

Oops I Fell In Love.

The Lost Scarps Of Love.

Heartbeats And Dreams.

Crazy Bloody Thing Love.

The Equation Of My Love.

The Kiss In The Rain.

She Broke Up I Didn’t.

Everything You Desire.

Jab Se You Have Loved Me.

The Journey To Nowhere.

(The last one had a tag line even, which went – ‘unfortunately a true love story of a medical’.)

I almost puked.

Lemme get a few things straight though, before I move on.

I have been in love and out of it. And yeah, it makes you happy to be in love and be loved, and yes it hurts like hell to come out of it. I have no intention of ridiculing young love, or the problems youth faces today, or the stress that the education system puts on them – no. I know what it feels like when you and your problems are not taken seriously. It sucks. Big time. There is no better phrase I could use.

But that does not mean that if one person gets up and writes a book about all this everyone should follow and jump into the well as well…! Not everyone can do it! In fact even the guy who started it all can’t do it that well anymore, I think.

I really do not like what is becoming of the Indian Fiction Writing scenario – all these wanna-be Chetan Bhagats sprouting out of nowhere like mushrooms in the rain and coming up with utter rubbish that is not even remotely enjoyable. Find your own thread people! Choose your own subjects, make your own cocktail! Explore other things in life! It is not that the youth wants to read about only this. For the mere lack of better stuff to read, we sometimes have to pick up books we wouldn’t even give a second thought too. These people write one book, become a one-time wonder (in fact I am not even sure if I should call them a ‘wonder’ at all) and then fade away like they never existed. I mean seriously, do we even call them writers? Ruskin Bond and many other authors wrote simple stuff too, about everyday people and places and situations. But they were never boring! And not in the least stereotypical! And they did NOT all write the same kind of stuff over and over again.

There are so many issues out there that need the attention of the common people. And by this I do not mean grave things like child labour or sexual harassment or drug addiction or students suicide or girl infanticide. Even simple, less burdening stuff, like lack of interest in theatre among the youth, changing cultural tendencies, fashion trends that make no sense really but are spreading like wild fire, the types and kinds of movies that are made these days, where is the music industry headed to, what is becoming to good journalism, why has the media become the way it has, why do more and more people break traffic rules these days, how you can make a difference in keeping our city greener.

I think writers have a responsibility towards society. But if you look at it more as an opportunity, it won’t burden you. Every writer has the opportunity to affect a change, to create a revolution, to start a movement, to set a trend. Every writer has the potential and the tool in his hand to bring about inception of new ideas. Every writer has the voice that a thousand people will hear when they read his books – and in a world that is soon becoming overcrowded with everybody begging to be heard, and where mobile networks are always busy, that is quite something.

I call myself a free-thinker. I write stuff and put it up on my blog, and facebook. Yes at some point of time in life I want to be a published author, and I am trying to work little by little on my novel that I wrote a couple of years ago. I know how hard it is to get published and not be forgotten by your readers. But when I look at these mushrooms springing up in, I lose all hope and think I am a fool to spend so much time on improvising what I created a few years back. If writers – if at all one is to call them that – like these can get published, I don’t know why I am still posting stuff on my blog.

Please please realise the power you have people. You have a gift – of having your way around with words – that many people out there would give anything for; people with better ideas maybe, but no platform to express them to the aam janta. You have it. Use it wisely.

No I am not against pleasure reading/writing. But it doesn’t mean everyone writes an IITian’s story, or a love story, please! Whatever has happened to other genres? Thriller? Action? Sci-fi? Humour?

I see a wave of change coming in the Hindi Cinema. It is not so big, but it is soon catching up and more and more people are liking it. I hope and wish to see that change come in Indian Literature as well. I will really almost tear it apart if I see another title belonging to ‘the Chetan Bhagat genre’ next time I am at a bookstore, I swear I will! It really fills me with anger and disappointment to look at all these people who could become great writers even, maybe, writing such mediocre stories and books. And what angers me further is that everybody is actually reading these books! I once even met someone who said – I read Chetan Bhagat. Like he is Wordsworth, or Shakespeare, or R K Narayan even. I really honestly have nothing against Chetan Bhagat, seriously. I empty my book cupboard once in a while and pull out my old tattered copy of Five Point Someone and read it all over again, I really do! But not everyone can write another Five Point Someone. And more than that, the point I am trying to make is – STOP trying to. There is a lot more in you that you must explore! And who knows, if you try really hard, you’ll be even better than Chetan Bhagat ever was or will be.