Lately I’ve been streaming a lot of Bollywood movies. I’ve always liked the dancing and music in these films and, of course, the happy endings. But the other night when I’d stayed up late to watch one with a really stupid plot — that had it been from Hollywood I would’ve turned off hours before — I realized that it’s not the music or dancing that keep me coming back for more . . . it’s the exuberance. The joy, man, I’m into the joy.
That’s what I want in every aspect of my life right now. I know being blissed out on a constant basis would be boring, but I want moments of that unabashed vitality and enthusiasm for life every single day.
I want it. I want it now!
In the Bollywood films, the camera pans around love-struck couples and then rises high above groups of dancers swirling in saris of hot pink, royal blue, new leaf green. I jump up from my couch and dance with them on my worn carpet in the privacy of my living room and I can almost feel the Indian sun warming my arms and shoulders, shining off my graying hair.
And do you know what? I want that same feel, that rush of delight, sometimes when I read. I want a laughing literary experience that doesn’t so much astound me with its wit or cleverness, the perfectly placed word or phrase — but that takes me on such a wonderful rapid ride I can hardly catch my breath.
Who am I kidding?
I want literary rides that take me so fast I don’t even think about catching my breath!
So much of what we write about here at Murderati has to do with control and thought and the wonderful mastery of creating excellent work.
But right now, I want to read books just for fun, for the giddy experience I inhale when I’m engrossed in my Bollywood movies.
So, please, today help me:
Where can I find exuberant writing?
(Oh, and if you’ve got Netflix and want to recommend some b-wood movies, that’d be fine too. Or if you know of some posted vids online . . . I’d enjoy those too!!)