17.4.05

This and that

In the 24 years of my life, I have met a host of chatterboxes. The cake goes to my photographer RS. And I have probably never felt so close to snapping at him than when we were headed to a golf resort in Gurgaon.

It was a simmering day and the road seemed to be an infinite stretch.
The media co-ordinator had told me to take the left turn from a green
board which said Jaipur Ahead. Now he didn't mention that there was a
green board at every block. So we took several left turns, only to
retrace our steps back to the highway every time. By this time I was in a frenzy, for the co-ordinator kept calling me and asking us to hurry up. "Sabeer Bhatia will leave soon," he warned me. On hearing this, RS said, "Let's turn back from here and go have some lassi and roti." I stopped barely short of asking him to shut up.

Finally we reached the turn we were supposed to take and came upon
Rampur village. Soon the Aravalli ranges came into view. RS had been
mumbling smart comments for quite some time when suddenly he pointed out the Aravallis to me and exclaimed, "Laavly, laavly!" (That's lovely for you). Then he looked at a village belle and said, "Dekho dekho nayi navelli dulhan" (look at the newly wed bride).

If you know RS, you realise that "Laavly" is a particular favourite of his. So be it a socialite or an artist, he falls back upon the L word during the shoots. Surprisingly these subjects are often flattered. They ask, "Ya?" And then they go on to pose with more vigour for the gregarious RS. And if the subject of his shoots happens to be a Punjabi, god save me. He shoots off in his local tongue and all I can make out are "tussis" and "chaddos" in his conversations.

Of all the assignments we have covered together, I can say without any hesitation that each one has been a revealing story of RS's life. By now I know what his wife cooks for him, which musical instrument he used to play in college, that Shahrukh Khan was his batchmate, how Shahrukh would dangle after their college professor's daughter...

Can somebody put a ban on The Bold and the Beautiful? Please. I am
tortured every Sunday by episodes of women simpering and crying with
every breath they take. E watches it with alarming alacrity. Yeah yeah I know S you will point fingers to the number of soaps I watch. Well, I don't any more:)

Hey, do you know what India should be called instead of the usual "The land of the tiger"? This is from Maneka Gandhi: "The land of the vanished tiger".

7 comments:

Jay said...

I used to watch The Bold and the Beautiful all the time! I especially liked that you could miss any number of episodes, yet come back to it and they'd still be on the same bloody scene. And the fabulous names: Brook, Ridge, Thorne... so much better than real life, no?

eM said...

Talkative photographers.
Gah.
Ever meet Sunju? :)

motheater said...

what with golf?? how come I only seem to be covering marxist politicians and pakistani generals?

AB said...

Jay: Gosh you too! I give up;)

eM: Believe me when I say it. Sanju could take a lesson or two from RS. I didn't mention what a snitch he is by the way.

motheater: Remember, you once said that you are not a journalist, but simply a mediaperson? Time to eat your words:)

motheater said...

Simply being a reporter doesn't make you a journalist, baby. Not even ground-breaking coverage of swarovski events and P3 parties:-) so despite the marxist politicians and pakistani presidents, I'd still call myself a tv producer rather than a journalist.

eM said...

Oi!
That swarovski event was imperitave to the future of fashion, I'll have you know missy!

motheater said...

I knew I wouldn't get away with that bitchy comment :-) my apologies to lifestyle journalists!