Mr. SinghJi, the Bay has been bombed...... continued

I'd-love-it-from-that-angle Ishaan

Ishaan is a well established film-director in the glamourous and audacious Bollywood. He has worked up his way from scratch- a real life example that a man can come from rags to riches... Well, he knows how to use his riches now... The entire city now burns, people pray, citizens shocked, politicans bray, "What happened today?", "This is such a bad day!", "Honey I am going to work tomorrow, This is Bombay!"
There's Ishaan... walking around, daplling in the debris, groping in the dark, walking amidst a broken palace thinking,

"Hmm... I think I ll let Amitabh play Salaskar!"

Its Krystalnacht, there's a Bombay Flambe, there's a Nigthtmare on the End Street, but there's a different type of a thought in his mind... Ishaan is thinking-

"Why did you wash this blood off from here? It doesn seem realistic!!!"

A memory walk down the corridor, a policeman sits down and weeps... His friend got on to the wrong side of a bullet here. He was a good friend. "A friend in need is a friend inde..." he is about to continue when Ishaan breaks in...

"Exactly how was he killed? I mean shot in the head or the heart? Did he bleed to death here? Has he a family? Were you there with him? What did he say last? Thats not a problem, I can change that!"

The policeman thinks, " I sure wish Kasab was here. I would have given him my gun to finish him off!"