Not your Slumdog.

Yes well, it's official. Slumdog Millionaire rocks, it rules and does pretty much anything you want it to, including winning 8 Oscars. Yes, Eight. Of which the much beloved A. R. Rahman won for Best Music and Best Song. And his speech said it all: All my life I've had the choice between love and hate. I choose love. For me, personally, that line deserved its own Oscar. Especially when it comes from the talent-heavy, publicity-shy and reticent Mr. Rahman. I didn't mind standing up and applauding for him.

Then I started switching news channels. 'Our' very own Slumdog Millionaire won. 'Our' Anil Kapoor. 'Our' Frieda Pinto. Even 'our' Dev Patel (why should the Gujjus not suddenly embrace one of their own, even if he does celebrate Valentine's Day and kiss in public?) Suddenly, India is 'ours' and its slums and dogs and millionaires are 'ours' and in the face of a very red, very international carpet, everything about that movie and everyone in it and around it are all 'ours' and we're all smiling and cheering for 'our' movie. What a warm, cosy, almost Christmassy feeling, it is, isn't it? As Rahman said, we are choosing love.

I find it hard though to get sucked in. India is a country which abounds in such hypocrisy. When we need it or want it, it is ours. When we don't, we literally burn it to the ground, or even worse, alive. We don't really understand the meaning of ours. We do understand the concept of laying false claim, though. Perhaps we did learn something from the East India Company after all. What right do we have to say Slumdog's victory is ours? Is it? Did we rush off to get the rights to make this film? Do we bother to anticipate genius and recognise a book for its true worth? What was the last great internationally-acclaimed film made by the Indian film industry that won anything?

Let me remind the overexcited, hypocritical menaces out there- Slumdog is NOT ours. It is theirs. The British people own this film. The Americans who distributed it, own this film. Danny Boyle owns it for his genius vision. Yes, it had Indian actors in it. So what? With the kind of population we have, we can't swing a dead cat anywhere in the world without hitting one! Now don't choose to misunderstand me. I am happy that they won. I am glad their efforts were justified and I'm even happier that the Underdog triumphed. It was a hard enough film to make and to get it to succeed; someone's soul definitely showed through. What I find ridiculously hypocritical is the way every Indian wants a piece of the glory. Why? With what right? Did you contribute to the film in any way, except perhaps to perpetuate the injustice in the slums that the film explored? When 'Salaam Bombay' did the same thing years ago, did anyone care? Does anyone care even now? Don't talk to me of NGOs. This is about recognising talent, not a political discussion. My objection is simply to the blind-sheep, utterly two-faced, so-called 'morality' that Indians have and what's worse is, that they're not even aware of it. We are so quick to hitch our wagon to someone else's success that we have no trouble heralding them as one of our own, close to the national bosom and part of our very fabric. And yet, come tomorrow, come trouble and come the opportunity to really help, this will just be yesterday's news lining someone's kitchen shelf.

Ironic isn't it. A country that carries deep within it a plethora of talent, even gives birth to an international imagination, still needs someone else's Oscar to validate it.

A 'Q and A' session

If I were Vikas Swarup, the author who wrote Q&A, on whose book the movie Slumdog Millionaire was based, I'd be slightly confused about whether I should be ecstatic about the Golden Globes or have mixed feelings about my countrymen. The GGs of course are great and all the fanfare that comes with a lovely movie which I am yet to see but I'm more concerned about the book. Sure it had won plenty of critical acclaim and awards but how many of the author's countrymen had actually read it before the movie came along?

Today the Indian media is carrying all these articles about how various directors from the Indian film fraternity had long ago realised and recognised the potential of the book and had gone a-begging for the film rights only to find that the author had already quietly sold them to someone who had beat them all to it. Then there were a hundred opinion polls about which Indian film director would have been the right person to direct the film and given the book the full justice of its potential. Then there are the inevitable lists of top best-sellers in the country. Remember Aravind Adiga's The White Tiger? That made it to maximum bookshelves after the Booker? Even Jhumpa Lahiri's book Namesake found great fame after Tabu and Irfan romanced their way onto international screens.

And now it's Vikas Swarup's turn. Q&A is suddenly appearing on people's bookshelves. Over the last week, I've had several friends and relatives call to ask me: hey you read a lot, right? Umm, yes I try to. Then you must know the name of the book that Slumdog Millionaire was based on? Yes I do. What is it and where can I get it? Have you read it? Yes, a couple of years ago, actually. So, is it still available everywhere? Is it good? Is it the same story? Well yes, but with a few changes. But the boy's in it, right?

Now, if I were Vikas Swarup, I'd be in tears. When did it become so, that a movie reminded people to read? That a film brought an author's work to life? Gave a good book the respect it deserved well before the movie? Danny Boyle's superb film has certainly worked wonders for what must be freshly minted editions of the 2005 book suddenly gracing the glitter-pack's bookshelves.

That day isn't far when kids stop doing book reports and do DVD reports on the book. I certainly hope I'm dead before that.