Bollywood Quotes

I've always thought people would find a lot more pleasure in their routines if they burst into song at significant moments.

Disappointment will come when your effort does not give you the expected return. If things don’t go as planned or if you face failure. Failure is extremely difficult to handle, but those that do come out stronger. What did this failure teach me? is the question you will need to ask. You will feel miserable. You will want to quit, like I wanted to when nine publishers rejected my first book. Some IITians kill themselves over low grades – how silly is that? But that is how much failure can hurt you. But it’s life. If challenges could always be overcome, they would cease to be a challenge. And remember – if you are failing at something, that means you are at your limit or potential. And that’s where you want to be. Disappointment’ s cousin is Frustration, the second storm. Have you ever been frustrated? It happens when things are stuck. This is especially relevant in India. From traffic jams to getting that job you deserve, sometimes things take so long that you don’t know if you chose the right goal. After books, I set the goal of writing for Bollywood, as I thought they needed writers. I am called extremely lucky, but it took me five years to get close to a release. Frustration saps excitement, and turns your initial energy into something negative, making you a bitter person. How did I deal with it? A realistic assessment of the time involved – movies take a long time to make even though they are watched quickly, seeking a certain enjoyment in the process rather than the end result – at least I was learning how to write scripts, having a side plan – I had my third book to write and even something as simple as pleasurable distractions in your life – friends, food, travel can help you overcome it. Remember, nothing is to be taken seriously. Frustration is a sign somewhere, you took it too seriously.

Celebrities are like the stars with one major difference: The stars shine TOGETHER, Celebrities hate EACH OTHER!

Courage wasn't only fighting your circumstances; sometimes making peace with your circumstances required more courage.

This is one of those moments that I want to bottle up and keep with me forever. Not because it's extraordinary, or because it's the kind of thing you would find in a Bollywood movie. But because it's the kind of moment I could never have dreamed of having in a million years.

Dying is not a solution.. I want to live with You..!

Just what I was afraid of—now I was his pet clown girl…you don’t date clown girls and you definitely don’t fall in love with them. Clown girls are like the caricatures in a Bollywood movie—I’ll never be his leading lady.

Unfairness – this is hardest to deal with, but unfortunately that is how our country works. People with connections, rich dads, beautiful faces, pedigree find it easier to make it – not just in Bollywood, but everywhere. And sometimes it is just plain luck. There are so few opportunities in India, so many stars need to be aligned for you to make it happen. Merit and hard work is not always linked to achievement in the short term, but the long term correlation is high, and ultimately things do work out. But realize, there will be some people luckier than you. In fact, to have an opportunity to go to college and understand this speech in English means you are pretty damm lucky by Indian standards. Let’s be grateful for what we have and get the strength to accept what we don’t. I have so much love from my readers that other writers cannot even imagine it. However, I don’t get literary praise. It’s ok. I don’t look like Aishwarya Rai, but I have two boys who I think are more beautiful than her. It’s ok. Don’t let unfairness kill your spark

falafel joint, jazz joint, gyro joint, corner. Schoolyard, creperie, realtor, corner. Tenement, tenement, tenement museum, corner. Pink Pony, Blind Tiger, muffin boutique, corner. Sex shop, tea shop, synagogue, corner. Bollywood, Buddha, botanica, corner. Leather outlet, leather outlet, leather outlet, corner. Bar, school, bar, school. People's Park, corner. Tyson mural, Celia Cruz mural, Ladi Di mural, corner. Bling shop, barbershop, car service corner.

Gathered up in her arms with the beat of Bollywood music all around me, everything feels strangely right. Like none of the bad stuff even matters any more. Because as long as Hani and I are side-by-side, everything will be all right.

My life is a plate of perfectly edible but ordinary scrambled eggs. I want them savory, creamy, cheesy and maybe with bacon on the side.

Even the world’s greatest actor cannot fake an erection.

Megan, I’m pretty sure none of my family is going to break out into song like in a Bollywood movie tonight,” he said, with amusement ringing in his voice.

WHAT YOU WON’T FIND IN HER CLOSET * Three-inch heels. Why live life halfway? * Logos. You are not a billboard. * Nylon, polyester, viscose and vinyl will make you sweaty, smelly and shiny. * Sweatpants. No man should ever see you in those. Except your gym teacher – and even then. Leggings are tolerated. * Blingy jeans with embroidery and holes in them. They belong to Bollywood. * UGG boots. Enough said.

It doesn't matter what my life has been like, Samir. What matters is hope. If you don't believe in a happy ending, what are you living for?

You thought I didn’t notice the way you two looked at each other? I may be old but I’m not blind. I remember that feeling. The spark, the electricity... ” I had to interject before I got the unabridged version of Anjali Does Mumbai.

When you make a film, if you are an insider, you're usually the last person to know that your film is not right. But when you are an outsider, you have a little more objectivity.I think a part of my success is that I am naturally objective. I am not an insider.In many ways, Anupama is the same. Foreword, First Day First Show

All pomp and show.” Anjali’s glare at the house would’ve exploded bricks if she’d had superhuman powers. “A fat cow needs a big barn.

It wasn't like he wasn't capable of happiness. It was almost as if he held himself away from it just the slightest bit. He felt undeserving of it, mistrustful of it, and the unfairness of that made her want to shake some sense into his stubborn head.

The Professor noted two nymphs with strawberries on their heads, a DayGlo Amish lady, a mustachioed man in a rainbow apron. He wrote Saturday Night Fever, then crossed it out and wrote Drag Ball + Bollywood and underlined it twice.

Dancing is the real plastic surgery," Uma loved to say. "It's what keeps you young.

There's a difference between benevolence and stupidity and even God knows it.

Winnie, when I first saw you, the giant lens that I've had on my future came into focus. It was like everything was blurry before, and then when you arrived, it was crystal clear.

Ever help a talent to grow, Don't corner him, never, No!

Know yourself. Respect yourself. Prepare yourself. Make your weakness your strength and supplement your strength with an equal dose of humility.

La fama es un arma de doble filo: puede hacerte ganar estatus y POPULARIDAD, pero también puede hacer que pierdas motivación y CREATIVIDAD.

She could hardly tell him it was because the child had been born a girl, destined from birth to be bound and gagged, to never be free. And she seemed to have sensed it far sooner than most. Sadly, the poor fool seemed to believe that she could actually do something about it.

I want you, exactly the way you are today, the way you'll be tomorrow, and fifty years from now. And I want you to want me enough to deal with whatever happens. I can't promise you'll be okay. But without you I will never be okay. And I know that without me you will never be okay either.

Had I waited for the script of Nautanki Saala to be written before signing it, perhaps I could have avoided the misstep it turned out to be. Patience and wisdom is something that even the patient and wise strive for.

the child had been born a girl, destined from birth to be bound and gagged, to never be free. And she seemed to have sensed it far sooner than most. Sadly, the poor fool seemed to believe that she could actually do something about it.

Kill Piracy; Save Creativity"!

came to India with a whole lifetime of expectations and assumptions about the way the world should work, the way life was supposed to be.

You put your soul into something and people think they can pass judgment on it just like that." She snapped her fingers. "I'll never get used to the critics.

Give your best to whatever opportunity you get; never underestimate the significance of even the smallest of junctures. Your past action will one day become your future redemption.

As for 'Dear Friend Hitler,' if it ever gets off the ground it will likely go down in history as little more than a symbol of Bollywood's limitless capacity for poor taste.

I think I understand why Bollywood movies have songs," he said. "They understand that sometimes people feel so much they have to sing and dance about it.

A man opposite me shifted his feet, accidentally brushing his foot against mine. It was a gentle touch, barely noticeable, but the man immediately reached out to touch my knee and then his own chest with the fingertips of his right hand, in the Indian gesture of apology for an unintended offence. In the carriage and the corridor beyond, the other passengers were similarly respectful, sharing, and solicitous with one another. At first, on that first journey out of the city into India, I found such sudden politeness infuriating after the violent scramble to board the train. It seemed hypocritical for them to show such deferential concern over a nudge with a foot when, minutes before, they'd all but pushed one another out of the windows. Now, long years and many journeys after that first ride on a crowded rural train, I know that the scrambled fighting and courteous deference were both expressions of the one philosophy: the doctrine of necessity. The amount of force and violence necessary to board the train, for example, was no less and no more than the amount of politeness and consideration necessary to ensure that the cramped journey was as pleasant as possible afterwards. What is necessary! That was the unspoken but implied and unavoidable question everywhere in India. When I understood that, a great many of the characteristically perplexing aspects of public life became comprehensible: from the acceptance of sprawling slums by city authorities, to the freedom that cows had to roam at random in the midst of traffic; from the toleration of beggars on the streets, to the concatenate complexity of the bureaucracies; and from the gorgeous, unashamed escapism of Bollywood movies, to the accommodation of hundreds of thousands of refugees from Tibet, Iran, Afghanistan, Africa, and Bangladesh, in a country that was already too crowded with sorrows and needs of its own. The real hypocrisy, I came to realise, was in the eyes and minds and criticisms of those who came from lands of plenty, where none had to fight for a seat on a train. Even on that first train ride, I knew in my heart that Didier had been right when he'd compared India and its billion souls to France. I had an intuition, echoing his thought, that if there were a billion Frenchmen or Australians or Americans living in such a small space, the fighting to board the train would be much more, and the courtesy afterwards much less. And in truth, the politeness and consideration shown by the peasant farmers, travelling salesmen, itinerant workers, and returning sons and fathers and husbands did make for an agreeable journey, despite the cramped conditions and relentlessly increasing heat. Every available centimetre of seating space was occupied, even to the sturdy metal luggage racks over our heads. The men in the corridor took turns to sit or squat on a section of floor that had been set aside and cleaned for the purpose. Every man felt the press of at least two other bodies against his own. Yet there wasn't a single display of grouchiness or bad temper

When I was too young to know better, I dreamed of a white knight. Someone who'd rescue me, protect me, keep me from harm. By the time I found him, all I wanted was for him to know I didn't need protecting.

Late twenties, single, female. Do the math. Flirty flings were fabulous until you hit the big three-O, all downhill from there. Biological clocks started ticking like time bombs waiting to detonate, gravity exerted more force on your life than your mom, and suddenly, the dog-ugliest creep looked like Jake Gyllenhaal.

Listen very carefully. Because I'm only going to lay this out for you once. I'm no longer the easy prey I once was and if you go up against me I will make sure you end up behind bars. You've fraudulently pocketed the money from the video. Our lawyers already have a criminal suit against you ready to go. Unless you're particularly keen on jail, you will leave my family alone, and you will withdraw the video and return all that money to the people you stole it from." Julia opened her mouth, but Trisha held up her hand and she closed it. "And if you do one thing to harm DJ"- because suddenly Trisha was sure Julia had something on DJ; her nineties-Bollywood-plot theory didn't seem so farfetched- "I will make sure that every one of the families you've preyed on to make money off their tragedies gets together and sues your ass until every penny you've ever leeched is gone. Now get out of my office. Get out of my building- which by the way is private property. Soliciting business here is illegal. So the next time you think of setting foot here, know that I will have security throw you out on your cowardly, pathetic ass.

I truly believe that if you have sown the seeds of desire, there is no way that life wouldn’t give you an opportunity to reap the fruits of it. The choice then is personal: whether you want to see those seeds develop or stunt their growth or even uproot them. The choice is always given and the choice is always yours.

My mother showed her gratitude for her life in exile by alluding to India’s modernity: the expansive railway network; the Bollywood movies she came to love for their tumultuous stories which ultimately conceded to the cardinal guidelines she held in her own life- love, family and duty. Still, it was Tibet’s antiquity that anchored her in exile. It was phayul she longed for when her skin was scorched by the summer heat of India’s plains. When she drank milk she compared it to the milk of her childhood for such sweetness and creaminess was not easily forgotten, and when she felt nauseous riding the buses that weaved their way around curvaceous mountain roads she spoke of the horses she had loved to ride.

Create a Piracy Free World fora Creative Tomorrow

Sometimes you just have to have faith. Sometimes you have to leap first to see if your parachute will open.

We are cooper, kanchi. They can bend us and twist us but they can't break us.

Whatever that thought was that just popped into your head. That's your answer. That's divine intervention, beta. The rest is all courage and choice.

Are you crying?" "No, it's raining, but only on my face.

What could be more than being friends? What could be more than what it felt like to wait by the phone to hear that she was okay? More than waiting to discuss every case with her?

The point is that things can be repaired. That they are even more beautiful for having been repaired.

…her entire being suspended between newborn faith and ancient hopelessness.

You find the most important things in life suddenly. And it's almost funny how ordinary those extraordinary moments feel.

The last thing she wanted to dig into was herself. She wanted to bury what was insider her deeper where it would stop haunting her.

You want to be friends? he'd asked her. And her life had changed.

But you know what else I figured out? That there’s more to life than chasing shit. That I didn’t have to achieve things to be someone everyone wants me to be. “Oh,

The strangest things in life were precious. Someone to tell you when you were wrong was one of them. “I

She wanted to bury what was inside her deeper where it would stop haunting her.

He was hungering for the fight they had never had. The one she owed him, but could never give him.

It was paranoia and it was part of her special gift of depression, along with sadness and fear.

Power does not ask permission. Power does not take permission. Power does not need permission.

...the gods bless the lonesome through music and dance.

You can’t learn anything from losing someone you love. Any lesson you learn from that isn’t a lesson. It’s a compromise with life. A lie you tell yourself.

We all are just as good or bad as our last outing, in the movies or in real life.

Destiny needs to be believed in for it to come true.

The gates to learning open only when the route to self-obsession is blocked.

If you are preparing for something, there is no way you wouldn’t get a chance to prove yourself. And success is when preparation meets opportunity.

দাও বিকশিত হতে মেধাবীকে, করো না কক্ষনো কোণঠাসা তাকে!

Why is it easier to claim those we lost while forgetting those we rescued?

The last thing she wanted to dig into was herself.

I’ll imagine it.” She twirled around in front of the gaping maw of a concrete tube. “Do you know the song ‘Dard-e-Disco’ from Om Shanti Om?” “Am I brown?” Om Shanti Om was one of the classic Bollywood films. He’d been forced to watch it countless times. His mother never cooked without a Bollywood film playing on the TV in her kitchen, and the songs from each one were burned into his brain.

…what could be better than making love to your wife, than listening to her, rolling around in her incredible mind, drowning in her laughter, and soaking up her love-drenched moans as she came around you?

She was the kind of star who sold happy dreams. She didn't want to sell darkness. Pain was best left in the real world where it belonged, where it burrowed so deep you needed a multimillion-dollar industry to escape from it.

Abdul’s deepest affection was for his two-year-old brother, Lallu, a fact that had begun to concern him. Listening to Bollywood love songs, he could only conclude that his own heart had been made too small. He’d never longed with extravagance for a girl, and while he felt certain he loved his mother, the feeling didn’t come in any big gush. But he could get tearful just looking at Lallu, who was as fearless as Abdul was flinchy. All those swollen rat bites on his cheeks, on the back of his head.

I learned then that unlike Hollywood, Bollywood does not exist as a physical place, and some deplored the name, arguing that it made the Indian film industry look like a poor cousin of Hollywood. Yet, the name stuck, and “Bollywood” has its own entry in the Oxford English Dictionary as the sobriquet for Hindi cinema. Though it is often used incorrectly as synecdoche to refer to the whole of Indian cinema, in reality, it is only a part of the large Indian film industry – a large part, which remains a sizable centre for film production in the world. 

The troubadours did give us a particular myth of “true” love--the idea that real love burns brightly and passionately, and then it just keeps on burning until death, and then it just keeps on burning after death as the lovers are reunited in heaven. This myth seems to have grown and diffused in modern times into a set of interrelated ideas about love and marriage. As I see it, the modern myth of true love involves these beliefs: True love is passionate love that never fades; if you are in true love, you should marry that person; if love ends, you should leave that person because it was not true love; and if you can find the right person, you will have true love forever. You might not believe this myth yourself, particularly if you are older than thirty; but many young people in the Western nations are raised on it, and it acts as an ideal that they unconsciously carry with them even if they scoff at it. (It’s not just Hollywood that perpetrates the myth; Bollywood, the Indian film industry, is even more romanticized.) But if true love is defined as eternal passion, it is biologically impossible. p. 124

I wish there was a word for what you're doing. I wish there was a word for being blind to someone's situation because you think you know how it feels and you use some tiny part of your own experience and extrapolate it to theirs without realizing that you have a choice and that they have none.

Not that he had come anywhere near attaining her skill at managing hope. She could balance it like a juggler -- let it soar and curb it and pass it from hand to hand. She could spin hope and spin herself through it. Forget mere juggling; she was a veritable trapeze artist with this hope thing.

He asked you not to like me, So why did you, Neera? Even now, I perform breaststrokes in caterpillar-stuffed north eastern clouds He didn’t ask me for any poems for 50 years, So why are you asking now, Neera? Even now, standing in 10-foot-deep water, I wield icy rods He wrote an editorial on my sub-judice case, Turning an editor, why are you asking for my writing, Neera? Even now, I love flatbreads stuffed with smoked penguin fat He did not confess to being my anthology’s publisher Why did you confess, Neera? Even now, I have family-pack yawns in the face of families, He didn’t like pronouncing my name So why are you telling it to youths, Neera? Even now, in bloody waters, I join the Bollywood chorus of tiger sharks He had said I have nothing of a true writer So why do you think I do, Neera? At Imlitala, I knew rat roasts don’t taste too good without charcoal smoke He said I have nothing creative in me So why do you think I do, Neera? Having burnt bank notes worth Rs 5,000 crore, I smelt death He said I’ll never write poetry So why do you think I have, Neera? On the banks of Amsterdam’s canals I have heard doddering old men sing limericks He transcended from sorrow to anger and anger to hate Why are you so generous Neera? Please don’t tell my grandmother.

The ever-present tangle of lies tightened around her like a hunter's net. The more she pushed it away, the more it clung to her like sticky, spindly spiderwebs. But the truth had to remain hidden inside the godforsaken asylum and inside the one of silence that was Uma, Vijay, and her, and tragically enough, Vikram's mother.

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Bollywood's economic workings are more mysterious. It still exists in what was known as the informal and high-risk sector of the Indian economy. Banks rarely invest in Bollywood, where moneylenders are rampant, demanding up to 35 percent interest. The big corporate houses seem no less keen to stay away from filmmaking. A senior executive with the Tatas, one of India's prominent business families, told me, "We went into Bollywood, made one film, lost a lot of money, and got out of it fast," adding that "the place works in ways we couldn't begin to explain to our shareholders." Since only six or seven of the two hundred films made each year earn a profit, the industry has generated little capital of its own. The great studios of the early years of the industry are now defunct. It is outsiders- regular moneylenders, small and big businessmen, real estate people, and, sometimes, mafia dons- who continue to finance new films, and their turnover, given the losses, is rapid. Their motives are mixed: sex, glamour, money laundering, and, more optimistically, profit. They rarely have much to do with the desire to make original, or even competent, films.

Everything is subservient to the system, yet at the same time escapes its control. Those groups around the world who adopt the Western lifestyle never really identify with it, and indeed are secretly contemptuous of it. They remain excentric with respect to this value system. Their way of assimilating, of often being more fanatical in their observance of Western manners than Westerners themselves, has an obviously parodic, aping quality: they are engaged in a sort of bricolage with the broken bits and pieces of the Enlightenment, of 'progress' . Even when they negotiate or ally themselves with the West, they continue to believe that their own way is fundamentally the right one. Perhaps, like the Alakaluf, these groups will disappear without ever having taken the Whites seriously. (For our part we take them very seriously indeed, whether our aim is to assimilate them or destroy them: they are even fast becoming the crucial negative - reference point of our whole value system.)

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To be a bathroom singer, one need not have an enthralling voice, need not sing in tune or have the right rhythm or beat. All it takes to qualify is to have a love for music and enthusiasm. It is not rare to come across bathroom singers in one's own family whose genuine efforts to sing a popular song could come across as braying to others as they are often loud, out of tune and out of breath. What we overlook in such situations is that they are connoisseurs of music. Fans of Bollywood and Hollywood films have no problems accepting actors and actresses, who in their roles of common men and women sing in the shower in perfect pitch, like a nightingale or a cuckoo.

These Bolly's are , really confused human's one moment they're at a party, in the same they're in a spiritual gathering, leaving us to wonder they bring gifts or prasad to the party!

inserted Bollywood-style dance sequences into a story set in the heart of Arabia.

I’D NEVER BEEN to India before, but the country had always held a special place in my imagination. Maybe it was its sheer size, with one-sixth of the world’s population, an estimated two thousand distinct ethnic groups, and more than seven hundred languages spoken. Maybe it was because I’d spent a part of my childhood in Indonesia listening to the epic Hindu tales of the Ramayana and the Mahābhārata, or because of my interest in Eastern religions, or because of a group of Pakistani and Indian college friends who’d taught to me to cook dahl and keema and turned me on to Bollywood movies.

Unsurprisingly, the nation’s xenophobia has seeped into popular culture. Bollywood, long known for its extensive Muslim involvement across the entire industry, is being forced to toe the anti-Islam perspective. Many in Bollywood happily pushed the hard-line Hindu nationalist agenda, releasing films that openly celebrated the actions of the Indian armed forces. In a similar vein, the Israeli series Fauda, which features undercover Israeli agents in the West Bank, has been hugely popular among right-wing Indians, looking for a sugar hit of war on terror and anti-Islamist propaganda in a slickly produced format. During the May 2020 Covid-19 lockdown, the right-wing economist Subramanian Swamy, who sits on the BJP national executive, tweeted that he loved Fauda.28 The post-9/11 “war on terror” suited both India and Israel in their plans to pacify their respective unwanted populations. To this end, Israel trained Indian forces in counterinsurgency. Following a 2014 agreement between Israel and India, pledging to cooperate on “public and homeland security,” countless Indian officers, special forces, pilots, and commandoes visited Israel for training. In 2020, Israel refused to screen Indian police officers to determine if they had committed any abuses in India. Israeli human rights advocate Eitay Mack and a range of other activists petitioned the Israeli Supreme Court in 2020 to demand that Israel stop training Indian police officers who “blind, murder, rape, torture and hide civilians in Kashmir.” The court rejected the request, and in the words of the three justices, “without detracting from the importance of the issue of human rights violations in Kashmir.

Did everyone who left their country feel this way—ground between the millstones of courage and cowardice? Or was it just her?

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The left their bodies holding down the same cafe chairs and waded through the first few tiers of advertisements-get-rich-quick schemes, Bollywood starlets, and pop star scandal sheets, until they got into the American feed, and then it was get-rich-quick schemes, Hollywood starlets, pornography, and Congressional scandal sheets-until they linked up with the law enforcement priority channel. Ferron checked the address and led Indrapramit into a massively multiplayer Artificial Reality that showed real-time activity through Skooter0’s system identity number. Once provided with the next-of-kin’s handle, Damini had sent along a selection of key codes and over-riches that get them through the pay wall with ease.

Anyway, you never know, she might turn out to be right. Maybe you will meet someone at the wedding.’ I groan loudly. I’ve fantasised about meeting The One at weddings since I was fifteen. We’d bump into each other on the dance floor, my bangle would get caught on the sleeve of his kurta and in the process of untangling ourselves, he would fall in love with the way a faint blush bloomed across my perfect cheekbones. Cheekbones that neither fifteen-year-old Sunny, nor indeed thirty-year-old Sunny, possessed. Bollywood has a lot to answer for – especially heightening the romantic expectations of shy, chubby Indian teenagers from Gravesend.

There's a reason Shahid Kapoor was voted Asia's Sexiest Man Alive

Kashmir is an integral part of my feelings, it is close to my heart region. Gulzar

I read a joke somewhere about how Bollywood movies exaggerating about people getting heart attacks as a result of being humiliated was nonsense, because if that were the case, then everyone working in toxic jobs would get one every week. Reading that “joke” actually made me pretty sad about the kind of lives many are being forced to lead. Obviously, people will say they have no choice. Because they need to put food on the table. This is a valid reason. But it’s not just food but also expensive clothes, gadgets, jewelery and accessories. And they need expensive furniture in an expensive house. And then they need an expensive car outside, or maybe two. The more the better The best part, they buy almost all of that using bank loans. Congratulations, now you are a slave till every single one of your debts is paid off, which is probably the next 30 years. Now you just need to choose whom you prefer to make your life hell - Your toxic workplace or the "friendly" people from the collection agency when you default on the loan? What a beautiful life indeed!

I came, I saw, I copied, and I left

Why Are Terrorists into Piracy? Well, they are movie buffs too!

Piracy begins where creativity ends".

There is a Pirate in each of us"!