Bollywood

Washington has blessed us this week with positively balmy weather and flowers of every color bursting out from window boxes, corner plots, and hanging baskets. The restaurants have opened their patios and the seersucker-clad crowds start trickling in at 5. They only start to dissipate at 11, and the night is still warm. Women are ignoring pantyhose, their hair is getting blonder, their shoes are getting brighter, and their suits are getting slimmer. Men are seen walking home after work, swinging their briefcases to the tunes on their iPods. It sure feels like summer.

As if to complement this summer garden-party atmosphere, the DC Film Fest is held this week. Fatema and I went last Sunday to see Black, an Indian movie based on the Helen Keller story. I do like Bollywood, though I’m not at all an expert and cannot discuss it intelligently at all. But we went, and the crowd was incredible, mostly from S. Asia. I felt very white, but very cultured. And Amitabh Bachan (who played the deaf/blind girl’s teacher), arguably the most famous Indian actor, made a guest appearance. And the crowd went wild. Especially when he recited lyrics from one of his movies to a girl from the crowd: shrieks of adoration. I hope the crowds at tonight’s Film Fest installment are equally exuberant.