In a move that has sent shockwaves through the subcontinent and triggered a mass wave of relieved sighing in British curry houses, the Indian film union has abruptly dropped its boycott of a Bollywood star. The identity of said star remains a mystery, though sources suggest it's either a man with a torso carved from marble and a soul of cotton candy, or a woman who can cry on cue and has a wardrobe budget larger than the GDP of a small nation. The British diaspora, long accustomed to reconciling the absurdity of Bollywood politics with the pressing need for a decent chicken tikka masala, has welcomed the decision with the enthusiasm of a man finding a tenner in his winter coat.
The boycott, which lasted approximately the length of a particularly dull Karan Johar film, was called off after a series of clandestine meetings involving more tears than a Shah Rukh Khan melodrama and more threats than a Salman Khan interview. One union official, speaking on condition of anonymity because he values his knees, declared, 'We have decided to forgive and forget, mainly because we forgot what we were boycotting in the first place.' The British diaspora, represented by a hastily convened panel of aunties in Leicester and uncles in Wembley, responded with a communal shrug and a request to turn up the volume on the playback.
'It's all a bit of a lark, really,' said one diaspora member, while simultaneously negotiating the price of a box of mangoes. 'We've got the World Cup coming up, and frankly, if they want to waste time hating each other while we're trying to enjoy a good bhangra, they can jog on.' The decision has been hailed as a victory for common sense, or at least for the kind of common sense that involves not burning down cinemas over a song-and-dance routine.
One can only hope the next boycott is over something truly important, like the price of popcorn.
