You are pissed with the deplorable situation in India. Who isn't. Your solution:

1. Get drunk
2. Decide that Manu Sharma getting punished is the greatest victory for Indian democracy and get drunk again (oh no, he gets out and gets drunk too *egad teeth clattering*)
3. You scheme like a dog, get power and hand it over to 'good-hearted' spineless old man.
4. Get a facebook account
5. Get on TV and go on offensive
6. Shun pvt news channels, back to DD (mile sur mera tumhara, yippee)
7. Hang in there, things could work out or not (it is all dialectic and all that jazz)
8. Get elected and act cool
9. Travel across the country, you don't need FB or news media (oh no but how will the world know you are awesome if you re not on TV)
10. Write a blog, tell the world how ridiculous all other solutions are, feel smug. 

It is not eerie when the real world of politics follows bollywood prescripts. The films in their mediocrity capture the cringeworthy real world (if we agree there is one) better than fine cinema of our times. And that's why, after spending reams of e-paper and many hours of my waking life criticizing Rang de Basanti I am all set to reclaim it (Number 2 of my list). RDB is a fine film about the mediocrity of our political vision: The understanding of the past, our solutions for the present and our hopes for the future. It awoke the rebel in every young Indian, they said. (Ever considered how the young Indian is always male whether it is Yuva - number 8 - or Rock on.) Our rebel selectively usurps Bhagat Singh out of his context and his political philosophy and places it a Manu Sharma-meets-George Fernandes situation and basks in its glory.
The last 15 minutes of RDB seals our fate in the inevitability of senseless media images governing ours sensibilities. If people didn't find that cringeworthy then logically Paa's surprising attack on private media must have seemed a smooth ride. Balki's diatribe is not exaggerated but it is totally out of context in a film about progenia. He thought the child in his film could have a cool, genx politician-dad and, what more, give the latter the mission of redevelopment - itself an insensitive appropriation of a contentious issue. He neither knows or cares to study or integrate it in his script. The result in a mish-mash of things ending (thankfully!) with a hasty marriage thrown in to appease the dying child (not quite grateful after all). His politics is neither neoliberal nor socialist, not fresh or traditional, definitely not feminist. An apolitically political nation.
Given this context, My name is khan is neither an aberration nor a celebration. MNIK is a larger-than-life and yet microsmic view. It is a genuinely naive exploration of the post-9/11 context as seen as from the eyes of simpleton (autism is another story in itself - something Kjo has no time for) Muslim. By keeping it firmly focussed on the individual and his limited worldview, Kjo probably does more justice to his theme than New York or Kurbaan. Or, for that matter, any of the films mentioned above. Kjo doesn't know politics and so he wouldn't dig too deep. His urge (he is after all the creator of those K-films) for a large-than-life setting takes him elesewhere, away from the embarrassing gaps in political standpoint to his favourite theme in the whole world - worshipping shah rukh khan. You may cringe coz you like srk or coz you don't. But there is no getting away from the fact that Kjo has at least been honest about one thing - "muslims are humans too, don't ask me anything else. This should be good enough reason to treat them well." And it sure is.