After multiple pleading sessions, the not-so-genteel, but
attractive Vicky goes inside the clinic to exactly do what he is required to do.
But he couldn’t and so with a frustrated look he brings back the empty plastic
jar to Dr. Chaddha. As it is, an infertility specialist played by the aging, but
a supremely talented actor Annu Kapoor knew all the right tricks. So, the hero Ayushmann Khurrana aka
Vicky is sent back in but this time with a stack of porn magazines and CDs/DVDs…
some stimulation soon after; he returns with a dimpled smile and gives
Chaddhaji a bit of his gush in the container. Thus, Vicky Arora becomes Vicky
Donor and starts wanking for a living!
A film based on the subject of sperm donation could easily go misplaced
and be looked down upon, but not when it has been guardedly written and handled.
There are no infused cheap humours and no over-the-top nitty-gritty of the science
of artificial insemination. In fact, a sensitive issue like this, is crafted into
a story that's a complete entertainer and pure fun - making John Abraham’s maiden
production project a sure-shot success!
Dr. Chaddha chases Vicky Arora, with a belief that this unemployed
and young bloke can resurrect his clinic, because according to his research,
Vicky’s great-grandfather had 19 children, and this is a reason enough for him to be
a potent donor! In one of the many persuasion talks that Chaddhaji has with Vicky, he
comes with this uproarious line ~ ‘Shakal dekhke bande ka sperm pechhan jata hun…
Tu pure Aryan race hai… Arya putra hai b********’ So, the Arya putra thinks
not to further waste his precious stream and time in searching for a suitable
job, rather gets literally cracking on this, all in the lure of handsome money!
And that was it. Vicky gets into the role and earns enough to live up to his heart’s desires. With that of course, he sires 53 kids. Life’s
good for both until the donor falls in love and wants to marry a Bengali girl
played by the debutant Yami Gautam. Now that is a reason to worry for
Chaddhaji since the clinic was running almost on Vicky’s sperm! It might mean the downfall of the business all over again till they
find another super donor like Vicky.
So, is it a new phenomenon in India? Not as per Chaddhaji…since,
he cites instances from Mahabharata and makes Vicky fall into his idea.
But, much before the film released we had woken up to an advertisement
posted by a Chennai couple on a website this January. Say, it created the right
base ground for Vicky Donor. Maybe, yes. Or let’s believe that we trust the
concept of the film even more now. Here goes the
Ad before we inch a bit further -
My wife and I are looking for a suitable
sperm donor for fresh In Vitro procedure very soon! Ideal candidate should be
IIT student, healthy, no bad habits, tall and fair if possible but will
consider the right donor regardless of looks etc. Time is of the essence, so
please call asap. Compensation twenty thousand Rupees cash. Call or email ASAP.
Authentic ad, we need donor within two weeks most likely. Please help us start
a family filled with love and prosperity. References will be required and
checked.
Basically, an industry does exist. It might have never been
spoken about in social circles that bluntly, but thousands of childless couples around us do go for the artificial method while
camouflaging the whole affair. That is why even the operations of such
institutes are beyond our reach and belief. The big labs do have a name but
what about a host of clinics that are located in dirty bylanes of cities
(like Chaddhaji’s sperm bank in the heaving Daryaganj) that are genuinely trying
to bring a smile on faces of such couples. They not only search for a feasible
donor but also strive hard to meet the demands of their clients… like
- getting customised children with brains of IITians and then traces of Brat
Pitt, Dhoni, Aishwarya, Lady Gaga, and so on. But the chances are ripe that we
will not acknowledge these infertility clinics and might just term them as shady
corners. Because, neither do we understand the science of such a method nor are
we willing to look for an option outside adoption. And that’s a fact.
So, when a film on such a taboo topic is fittingly made, it clears up many ambiguities and makes people aware of its treatment.
Thankfully, Vicky Donor is not one of those preachy sorts that are usually
turned up as issue-based. So, while you enjoy the fun side of the film, the matter
grows well in the mind and hits you hard! Though it is yet to be surveyed to
believe if every ejaculation fetches thousands and thousands of money making
any Vicky Dicky Ricky of the street an affluent lad… from affording a big car
to renovating an entire house all by the blessing of the flowing!
It’s clearly an audacious effort
to make people responsive towards the option of sperm donation and it’s so
sensitively written and dealt with that it never loses its luster. The
Bong-Punjabi tussle rooting to the culture discrepancies is outrageously
hilarious. All the characters are well sketched - the camaraderie between
Vicky’s mother and the mother-in-law is so lovely and engaging.,
Juhi Chaturvedi - an Ad filmmaker, who entered Bollywood, writing
this sharp, crisp, and effective story for Vicky Donor, could just be the next
big thing in the writing world. As for me, I loved Shoojit Sircar’s first project – 'Yahaan' and I am totally in love with Vicky Donor too!
(Image : Juhi Chaturvedi and Shoojit Sarcar)
And, my moment of Vicky
Donor was in the ladies' washroom, where I warily eavesdropped on an old woman (must be in her late 60s) explaining to a fine-looking young lady why it is not at all a big
deal planning a baby through this method. Makers of Vicky Donor… are you
listening?
Well, all I can is - Vicky
Donor is a brilliant sperm of a movie! Might be heady enough to make beautiful
progenies of the same genre!
Last week again dragged you into a controversy that I know you didn't want to be a part of. You so wanted all your judgments to go down well, but this time it definitely didn't, and the result was for everyone to see. Anyway, Rakhi, I shall reserve my views on this for the latter part of my letter. But first I must tell you how much I have been a fan of yours ever since your 'Pardesia yeh sach hai piya' that DJ Aqueel's remixed video (where you became a saucy nurse!) became a hit. And then, there was Mika's kiss fiasco, which made you even a bigger hit on the celluloid. Thereafter, there was no looking back for you. You - the Rakhi Sawant was made.
You are a very interesting person, Rakhi. Your so very outspoken but pointless attitude is completely fascinating. I often wonder how well you manage to say the most inane stuff in a manner that would put anybody in the hall of shame. But you are simply superb.
The other day, I was struck by how brilliantly you shoved off all the current affairs questions that were thrown at you by a leading Hindi news channel.
I mean, frankly, Rakhi, I fail to understand why they would ask you anything related to general knowledge... yes, I empathise with you wholly.
You astounded me when you took one of the most beautiful decisions of one's life right on the idiot set and made it an element of entertainment for the public to love, laugh, and hate. You decided to get married LIVE on TV and choose your husband from a flock of participants who would go all in Rakhi Sawant's tune to get your heart forever.
Did it not occur to your mind once that all this is a made-up process and perhaps no one has genuine compassion for you, I mean, in the Swayamvar - show? Yes, it did occur to you, and therefore, to my sheer faith, you didn't get married on the set.
How expected and boring it would have been, had you married the chosen guy as being laid by the Swayamvar producers... I appreciate your idea of not marrying ON-AIR but just the engagement. And anyway, how can you be known for following the anticipated path? Unpredictable, brash, and blunt - are some of your major constituents and you definitely live up to them.
But lately, I have been a little agitated with you. I obviously didn't want you to host a show (Rakhi Ka Insaaf) where you are required to pass judgments. Why Rakhi? I love your item numbers, your frank and blunt words, your plastic sensuality, and sometimes your naive remarks. But to be a judge is definitely not your forte. Don't you think that to judge such social issues, you need to have at least some basic knowledge of the judicial system?
Well, it may not be a yardstick for the makers of such shows.
I need not dig deep into your life, but you know, you have been so much in the public eye that every minute detail brings up a whole new story about you.
I have always believed that one should remain secure from within first, and then try bringing a positive change to society at large. Don't understand how much of that is true to your life.
Indeed, as they say, one is one's best judge.
Waiting to see you in some nice item songs, giving tough competition to the Munnis and Sheilas of your time.
But, do a little justice to us, just don't be a judge again in the name of entertainment.
Yours truly,
AB
P.S.
Rakhi, as you see I know a lot about you and your life and can give you honest personal advice. I would like to recommend you to hire me as your PR Consultant. Believe you me, there won't be any better 'Rakhi Ka Insaaf'.
I have been a regular Metro commuter for a while now and like everyone else, I, too, am euphoric by the DMRC's (Delhi Metro Rail Corporation) decision to have coaches, especially for women. What a relief it is!
The platform floors now have sticky labels in pink and white (bang on, on the colour-combo DMRC!) written 'Women Only' and 'Keval Mahilaye' - pointing to the area from where women queue up for their special service. And once in there, you are in your own 'female zone'. Certainly, not like Mumbai's local train where women are seen doing homely chores... (Yes, they do everything that they possibly can in women's only while they are taken from one corner of the city to another!)
According to the DMRC's commuter survey, one-fourth of the total commuter strength of the Metro is made up of women. So to make travelling comfortable for women - the first coach after the driver's cab in every train is women-only from now on. And, children up to 12 years - irrespective of gender, and the physically challenged are also allowed to travel in the exclusive coach.
I personally welcome this move because I have suffered as much in the congested Metro as any other female would have. But this is not the case with most male commuters. A male friend argues the need for reservations for women in every possible sphere - 'why can't they be with the rest of the male commuters while travelling, and why can't Delhi Metro add one more coach for the comfort of all instead of reserving one?'
He might have his own points, and I don't totally disagree. But honestly, I have witnessed many such instances where a girl suddenly screams at a man - asking him to stand properly and not let his hands touch her. Also, incidents where a man flatly refuses to get up from the reserved seats for women even if asked by a female commuter to do so.
I always make it a point to not sit on those seats that are reserved for senior citizens even if the seats go unoccupied, and also try to make expectant women, and women with babies sit even if that involves making the impolite men get up from the reserved seats.
Hopefully, you will agree with me that the angst has nothing to do with the entire mass of male commuters - almost all of them are refined, but it is for the probable few who create a bad scene and make it a torturous ride for fellow travellers.
But now, with the special 'Keval Mahilaye' there would be no more 'Bhaiya/uncle, - zara peche hatiye... zara theek se kadhe ho jiye'. (Keep at a distance... Stand properly)
Just hoping that we women don't get into any sort of cat fights in our so exclusive coach!
P.S.: Day 3 run of the women's coach was my first experience of the service. And, the comfort inside the coach was suitably apparent to each other. However, I still could spot three men inside the coach. Thinking that they are unaware of it, (maybe the proper announcements were missed... naturally!) I asked them to move to the next bogie. What I got instead was a raw reply - 'Lagta hai aap he ko pareshani ho rahi hai, Madam' (Feels like you are only being troubled, Madam)
Madam learnt not to teach much to the trespassers.
