It is this relaxed attitude that has made films like Slumdog Millionaire possible now. There was a time when one scene alone where the boy hero wades through excrement to reach his idol would have been enough for various nationalist groups in India to get their dhotis in a twist (no, dear Jeremy hasn’t said that yet, but give him time).
But in the new, resurgent India, nobody complained about the title, about the portrayal of grinding poverty, or about the besmirching of the image of India.
We may not be like that only. But thankfully, we no longer care very much if you think so.
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