Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Finally - finally, finally, checked out Savita Bhabi

Read so much in the papers abt Savita Bhabi, Bharat ka comic book porn star, but never felt inclined to check out the site. Porn is not a turn on. Till my only nice (niece) told me that her boyfriend wrote an article on SB and the response was astonishingly overwhelming. Gosh, popular culture demands a dekko. Imperiously ordered said nice to open the site -she obediently followed my instructions but I noticed (with pathetic tight-arsed auntly relief) that she averted her eyes from the screen- my big sis has brought her up well. Okay so she doesn’t play the sitar, but a guitar is good enough to mollify potential conservative in-laws, innit? You can always play Jumping Jack Flash in the deathly dull and boring Ananda Shankar style to keep them happy. No crazy, irrational joy in that version. Sorry, but that’s how I feel. Owned the record once, only because Stones was not available in Cal. Snowflakes (also on the album) is infinitely worse. Don’t even go there.
Gasped when I browsed through episode one - SB’s torrid encounter with a door-to-door bra salesman. Man, SB is amazingly purty and smoking hot! BUT the artist currently known as her creator is hotter still. Fantastic eye for detail, even the wall paper in SB’s house is laboriously detailed. Haven’t laughed so much in ages- the situations are ridiculously corny and cater to age-old adolescent fantasies. This is Nancy Friday, Indian ishtyle- why do ghissa-pitta doctor-nurse scenarios when the cricket-playing young lad next door has more resonance? Have to admit that I hastily skimmed through episode one- too yucky for my taste.
Must reluctantly concede, however, that it’s a good job. The apna haath zindabad lot now doesn’t have to rely on alien blonde, blue-eyed wenches to keep them happy!

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