<img alt="" src="/imagedata/2009/feb/lovers.jpg" align="right" border="1" />Ensure you're in a pub tomorrow. Make sure you're holding someone's hand. Wear jeans. Don noodle straps. And oh, tell your folks, cause they need to be aware that you are courting a virus deadlier than that catchy HIV variety. How could any of the great love stories been written if the Mutaliks of the world had been around? As Romeo balanced gingerly on the ladder that he propped up against Juliet's balcony, the Mutalik Messiah of Youth Yammers and Self Made Moralistic Mores would have swooped down, cutting short Shakespearean sonnets and Romeo's love lorn laments. Imagine Mumtaz Mahal dancing in her tight churidars as she won Aurangazeb's heart over. And the Mutalik men storming in to beat her up - because a woman's rightful place should be in front of the hearth, and not in the middle of the mirth. Cut to the candy floss scenes of Shah Rukh Khan serenading Kajol across the dewy meadows in Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. And just as the director calls 'Action', just as Kajol begins cavorting around trees in a fur-lined skirt, a mob of men enters from scene left, not at all colour coded with the aesthetics of the scene - screaming Yeh Kya Kya Hota Hai. What's so un-Indian about Valentine's Day and being public about your love? Indian mythology is full of love and lovers - both unrequited and fulfilled. We have a tome dedicated to love. And a temple built around erotica - with female sculptures decidedly sporting far less than noodle straps and jeans. If Mutalik wanted to be in the media, what stopped him from picking an issue that was really an issue, and fighting for it? But then, it's not as glamorous to fight for economically underprivileged children, is it? And raking up the state of battered women isn't going to get one as many media bytes as beating up women in pubs, will it? So while Mutalik gets his five seconds of fame, holding your girlfriend's hand in public, could get you going home with a black eye. Oh and not to mention, married -u00a0 as Mutalik's Madeshas dangle the choice of a rakhi or a registry in front of you. But there's only one real way to fight these I-so-wanna-be-Narendra-Modi types.u00a0u00a0 And that's to get out there and hold fifteen noodle-strapped women at the same time. And to sit in a pub in the middle of the afternoon. Not because you want to drink (Hell, order a fresh lime!) - but because you want to stand up for freedom. As you get beaten up, just reflect that students in Tianamen Square braved tanks, and youth on the Berlin Wall stood up to howitzers. So what's a lathi or two, when someone's interrupting you singing 'Pyaar Hua Ikraar Hua' to your lady love?

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