Amu was listening to the discussion between Anisha, Jaya and Ankit.
"How can you listen to those item numbers, do they even make any sense"
"But they have such nice beats..", Ankit grinned
"Ofcourse they make sense. People look for entertainment they don't look for art, they like these", said Jaya.
"Only such films make hundred crores", said Jaya.
Amu walked out of the cafetaria to attend to her mobile, while the discussion continued over a cup of cappucino.
As she passed the pantry she saw an open note book with the pages fluttering. It was written in Telugu. Amu had learnt Telugu at school, her teacher used to say Your handwriting should be like pearls. That's how Telugu letters look, round, some of her friends used to say they look like jalebis round and round. She could never get herself to write beautifully, neither in Telugu, English nor in other languages.
Amu thought the handwriting in the open book looked like pearls, round and neat. She wanted to read, but she was hesitant, she didn't want to be reading someone else's diary. From a distance, the structure looked like a poem, with a small heading and less in width, more in length. It must have been the book of peon, she thought. I will read it anyway, She thought overcome by curiosity.
She sneaked into the empty pantry, pretending to be looking for water, not that someone was watching but she still pretended. She quickly glanced at the open page, it was an old Telugu song. She wanted to go through the other pages, but didn't do so. Reading an open page was alright, but going through other pages was not, for some strange reason.
Well that is a refreshing take, why can't film songs be looked at as poetry, afterall they are poetry. May be sold to someone but does that take away from the art, may be there is subversion hidden in some lines..., She thought as she walked out of the room with a smile on her face.
