Jackie Chan the dog and all the other cuts we want of Udta Punjab

It's the summer of 89. 89 cuts and counting, to Udta Punjab. And innumerable bruises to sense and sensibilities. It's the leech therapy. Because, when you are cut, you bleed to be cured.

Pahlaj Nihalani, whose water conservation techniques (bathing together in see-through negligee) have predated the United Nations recommendations, has also come up with a distillation method to sublimate our movies from asabhya to sabhya, as per Bharat Mata's immaculate standards. Because, we need it.

Now Bollywood can throw its weight behind Anurag Kashyap, but can that actually take away from the immense contribution that Nihalani is making to our art and culture? I am super serious here. The cuts matter. Because, well the following.

Read on you agitating idiots. [Plus, why should you protest and agitate when normal? I can understand when you're under the influence of drugs, but why when normal?]

1.    Delete sign board of Punjab in the beginning.

You know because all we want to see of/about/on Punjab are the freaking mustard fields. And the dhols. Don't forget the dhols.

2.    Delete Punjab, Jalandhar, Chandigarh, Amritsar, Tarn Taran, Jashanpura, Ambesar, Ludhiana, and Moga to be deleted from background and dialogues wherever it occurs.

As Shakespeare said, what's in a name? Obviously, we don't have Punjabi-speaking, profanity-throwing, munda-mundis in Jalandhar, Ludhiana, Amritsar, Moga. No, no, no, Sir. They are all, in fact, in Canada. Yes, Toronto, Ottawa, Montreal, Vancouver. Please cut and replace. Thanks.

3.    Delete two words from song 1.

Two words only, Sir? How kind! Shall we replace them with "ji huzoor"? Oh, huzoor is Urdu-ish, so no. Then? "Bharat Mata?" Oh yes! "Bharat Mata", it is.

4.    Delete offensive words from song 2.

Oh Sir, we have misplaced that long list of "offensive words" that you had duly circulated sometime back. But we'll scrape the bottom of that dirty ditch - Twitter, of course - to recover it. Thanks. Deleting, ASAP. Beeps sound so much better in the middle of a song. That will be a new trend. Tra la la la beep la la beep... You see?

5.    Remove all cuss words from the movie.

Er, by "cuss words" you do mean "offensive words", right? No? Then offensive words are non-cuss words, is it? Re-per-cuss-ions will be heavy, but what the heck! Delete, delete, beep, beep is cutting edge obviously.  

6.    Delete the word "election", "MP", "party", "MLA", "Punjab", "Parliament".

Sir, that's beeping more or less all the lines. Okay, I'm kidding. Obviously, drugs have nothing to do with elections. Nothing has anything to do with elections, MLAs, MPs. And, Parliament? The damn thing is in Delhi! Er, oh, sorry, not the damn Parliament. No, I wasn't cussing Parliament. Of course, I respect Sansad. Jai Sanskari Sansad.

7.    From song no 3, delete the visuals of scratching/itching side portion of Sardar.

I had told them to use Itch-guard instead! Ad revenue ka ad revenue, and scratching ki aisi taisi. We are in sync, Sir!

8.    Delete the close-up shots of injecting the drugs wherever it appears.

Obviously, Sir! Close-up shots of yucky syringes give you the AIDS. Reusing close-up shots of needles with drugs can infect our Bharatiya blood. Yes, the darshan is enough! Only darshan matters. Not the minister-businessmen in the business. Regulate the darshan. Delete, delete. Cut. Cut. CUT.

9.    Delete the shot of urinating by Tommy in front of the crowd.

Bad behaviour! Defacing our Swachh Punjab with that stinky winky pee-pee. Very bad. We cheered when someone beat up Kanhaiya and called him a public urinator! How can Tommy Singh get away with it??

10.    Delete the line 'Jamin Banzar te Aulad Kanjar'.

Are you calling our mother earth infertile? Father Badlas impotent? You know how many they have sired? Known and the half-known and the unknown? What's wrong with you?

11.    Delete the name of the dog as 'Jackie Chan'.

NOOOOO. Kutte ke bachche and any permutation of kutte both strictly copyrighted. No Chinese, on-screen or off-screen, born and bred or raised in or outside of China, can infringe on that birth right. Plus, insulting a Chinese legend when the prime minister is globe-trotting and spreading the Make in India good will and completely taking China's case and absolutely refusing to budge on any matter! NO, that is a cheap shot. We don't take cheap shots. We will not tolerate the Jackie Chan way of showing Beijing its place. We'll take the proper nuclear route.

12.    First disclaimer should be audio/video and to be changed to - "The film focusses on the rising menace of drugs and war against drugs and is an attempt to show ill-effects of drugs on today's youth and the social fabric. We acknowledge the battle against drugs being fought by the government and the police. But this battle cannot be won unless the people of India unite against the menace."

"War on drugs". Yessss, as effective as war on terror. Kudos, Sir! Now that's a morally upright, scratch-free, itch-guarded, profanities-purged, boiled-in-Bharatiyata intro.

13.    Second disclaimer of fiction to be increased according to audio/video.

"This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the filmmaker's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental."

The coincidence is NOT the key.

Hence, forget Dave Eggers whose "disclaimer" read: Any resemblance to persons living or dead should be plainly apparent to them and those who know them, especially if the author has been kind enough to have provided their real names and, in some cases, their phone numbers. All events described herein actually happened, though on occasion the author has taken certain, very small, liberties with chronology, because that is his right as an American.

Or John Le Carre, whose preface said: Nobody in this story, and no outfit or corporation, thank God, is based upon an actual person or outfit in the real world. But I can tell you this; as my journey through the pharmaceutical jungle progressed, I came to realise that, by comparison with the reality, my story was as tame as a holiday postcard.

Fictionalise, never frictionalise. We get it, Sir.