Death to Infielders, Take Five

typed by kinkminos sometime in octomber

"Woke up this morning and found myself dead" is the working title of a film treatment i'm working on at the moment. Hardly an original title, as hard core fans of the late Jimi Hendrix will testify. You have to admit, though, that as kitschy commentary on the state of affairs of the current affairs of state, it does have a certain moribund relevance to the vexatious theme of escalating puritanicalism.

"Come on, let's do it again," sang Peter Frampton.

The structure of the story conforms to the basic three-act action-flick formula. There is, of course, a mian hero, representing an heroic class of White-hatted folk. These are Good People. Kind people. The kind of people who help the old and the infirm and the respectable. Who give unstintingly of themselves and never forget to say "masha'allah" when admiring the cherubic cheeks of clear-skinned toddlers. They are not prone to prejudice, except towards the darker-complexioned, and one or two of the lesser ethnic groups of our purestate. But then that hardly counts, right? Let's face it, you wouldn't want your daughter marrying a Bengali, ya?

Our hero, a morally upright member of an uptight community, finds himself, as is often the case, unwittingly pitted against the forces of darkness, led by a shadowy figure who is in the process of assembling a motley crew of cutthroat vagabonds from the depths of society's underclasses. At the mass induction ceremonies he conducts, he likes to welcome recruits with a short speech. i visualise these speeches taking place inside a huge cavern or underground lair. (i'm thinking, something along the lines of Temple of Doom.)

"I have but three simple rules," intones the villain (Vill Ian?) – whose name is either Kifayat Khan or Sabaahat Gul, but whom the Good and the Great refer to as Girdhari Lal (tho' suggestions for more suitable names are welcome) – in his measured and melliflous baritone, "rules which are sacrosanct and inviolable, and set in the stone you see on the wall behind me.

"Rule Number One –" he declares, after an aposiopetic pause, "you must grow your beards to the precise length of a fist and a half. These will be regularly monitored for conformity.

"Rule Number Two – you must at all times carry an ablution pebble, as prescribed, to ensure that your wee-wees are always clean in the eyes of the almighty.

"Rule Number Three – Death to Infidels. Without exception."

Stroking his own luxuriant facial hair, he continues, "You will find the definition of Infidel in the instruction manual provided to you. If you are unable to read, Munshi Sabahuddin is conducting a sing-along around the campfire tonight, during which the definition will be clarified. It's all in good fun, and prizes will be awaded for qira'at and the best rendition of Surah-e-Yasin. Attendance is mandatory." (The previous batch, arriving in early Ramzan last, had been judged on the speed and zeal – in that order – of their taraavi renditions.)

I'm sure you get the picture.

(Note: Flashback? Flash forward? Fantasy flash forward of an aspiring jihaadi?)

(Note: should h.q. be set in madrassa or masjid?)

Midway through act two, our hero, after proving his courage time and again, despite losing friends and relatives and associates at an alarming rate (body bags are going to be in short supply), faces off the black-bearded villain in a thrilling scene in which hero shoots villain in left testicle, damaging right one in process. This renders Girdhari Lal incabaple of facing his band of mercenaries, now that he has no balls left to speak of. He is seen shuffling off shamefacedly in the direction of the rugged South Waziri mountains, and is never seen or heard from again. His unholy mob, now ringleaderless, without half a Weltanschauung between the lot of them, reverts to its aimless, nosepicking, urban-nomadic ways.

Act three has barely been outlined, but preliminary story options include the development of the love interest, a kidnapping of some sort by a splinter militia group of Girdhari Lal's disbanded faction, and might take in an item number. Personally i'd love to see Mallika Sherawat frolic around the rain-washed trees of Lahore's Lawrence Gardens in a green, white and saffron sari. On film, of course. (i'm sure they'll give her a visa.)

The epilogue celebrates the exploits of our hero, who is called Gubroo Shah or Rye Bahadur (haven't decided yet), being feted by the metrop's Burghers, who have been delivered from the potentially dreadful yoke of fundamentalist puritanicalism. Outside a large crowd has gathered, chanting the hero's name in chorus. They could be singing something like

jeevay, jeevay, jeevay Gubroo Shah
Gubroo Shah, Gubroo Shah, jeevay Gubroo Shah...

(Note: budgetary constraints might limit the scope and breadth of the crowd shots.)

The federal government awards him a ten-marla plot in the vicinity of Kharian Cantonment. Snow-white-hatted President of The Islamic Republic of Pakistan personally pins the Sitara-e-Jura'at medal onto Gubroo's chest (does the ghost of Yossarian enter the proceedings?) (just kidding!). Highly articulate Prime Minister of I.R. (producers feel he should be Syed, tho' i'm not sure if they mean the character, or the actor who plays him) delivers an impassioned speech extolling the incorruptible virtues of our Gubroo javaan and the need for one and all to adopt his brave and morally upright ways. With the ultimate defeat of the evil forces of anachronism, he continues, the country can return to the path of righteousness and start to achieve the prosperity it has always had the potential for. Credits roll, over the audience giving the VIPs a standing ovation.

i've never been in favour of moral ambiguity as an underlying motif in action fillums. "Give the pipples what they want" is my lucrative motto.

(Concluding note: would the obvious crowd-pulling advantages of casting an incoherent but big-bottled, blonde, Caucasian love-interest compensate for the sheer crassness of the idea?)

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P.S. The internal plumbing of Chapter IV of this meandering series has become clogged and is need of a dose of Drano. The Union of Plumbers has been alerted.