The Young India

Santa Singh
Outside a cinema hall, when the audience had finished braving another terrible Hindi movie, I walked towards a water cooler and found a young man, clad in a plain white shirt and faded jeans, reading some lines aloud.

These were not ordinary lines. They sounded like typical Hindi film dialogues. I wondered if this man would go on to become an actor and subject us to more atrocities. I felt like smashing his head then and there.