What must it feel like to own your own private jet? Or to marry someone who owns one.(E says if you can't have it, marry into it). I guess the right person to ask is Ritu Beri. The other day I went to cover the launch of Ritu Beri's latest collection. The farmhouse I presumed was hers. Actually it was hers (I learnt later). I couldn't take my eyes off this tomato red Mustang parked at the entrance. I am a sucker for any vintage item on four-wheels, so I really couldn't help going gaga about it for the next few hours.
Now that reminds me of hotelier Tarun Thakral. He owns 18 vintage cars! Everything from a Mustang, a Sedan, an Austin and a Buick to a
Chevrolet. Imagine my feelings as I saw row after row of vintage cars
standing to attention in his car shed. Shining clean and ready to roll out. The man even has a train house at his farmhouse. It is a luxury train compartment which the maharajas used to travel in. I have never thought of such a novel concept. Really, what money can't do!
But then that's destiny for you. E and I were talking about a friend
yesterday. The friend has always had a boyfriend with a small car.
Fixated as we are about cars, we couldn't help thinking about the four-wheeler aspect more than the guy. I told E, "Well, you know I would like somebody with a bigger car." She burst out laughing and pointed out the ultimate irony of our lives. No guys. No cars. Our only consolation: God has something really good in store for us.
And look at this way - if I can be away from home for three years living with friends, chat with a murderer in a jail, rub shoulders with a Chhota Shakeel convict in the train, hobnob with Pocketbaba (a scary fakir I met in a dargah), be forced to eat a concoction made of pearls by a descendant of Hakim Ajmal Khan, meet Shahrukh Khan, why not believe that destiny can take me anywhere.