They said it anyway. That they love him. How many times did John Abraham hear the word sexy and hot at the photography exhibition yesterday? I lost count. From wee sized kids, powdery faced aunties and teenagers wearing itsy bitsy numbers to six footer men, all were drooling on him. And even though I didn't feel the thrill running down my spine (which happened when I saw Shah Rukh Khan for the first time), I have to say this that he is the nicest man I have ever met.
In fact, I have started to wonder whether he has an alter ego. You know what I mean? He is a hunk, doesn't drink, is a vegetarian, is honest, is very caring... The amusing thing is that even when he praises himself he is very matter-of-fact. Mamma's boy and daughter's dream in one package. It doesn't get better.
Not a single star has ever looked my way and cared about whether I have got my interview with him. John did. First of all I was tagging him like a shadow. At 10.30 at night I was seated right at the back of the room where he was being interviewed by the television channels. The moment I saw this editor of one of the newspapers which was sponsoring the event enter the room, I took it for granted that it was over. But then John happened to look at me. And he smiled and asked, "Where are you from?" Next he assured me that he would just get over and sit with me. "I am sorry for making you wait," he said. That is also something I have never heard any star say. I am touched.
There have been quite a few changes in my life of late. My parents left for Calcutta the day before I shifted along with S to our new apartment. In the beginning there were the predictable shifting blues (and I was missing my folks as well) but now it feels nice. Reaching office in 15 minutes and paying peanuts to the autowallah.
My face has gone through a few changes as well. I don't know how that sounds but seriously I think I looked like a puma cat a few days before. Now I look less like one.
First of all, I was licked by a cockroach or it might have been a spider. The right side of my face, a considerable part of it, had turned bright red. It seems aeons now that it has been there on my face. But it has grown tired of being there I guess. I am tired too, of peering at it day and night. If it wasn't enough, now I have a bright red round spot right on the bridge of my nose.
Three days ago I went for a fashion show. Certain scented candles caught my fancy. I started poking at the transparent wax with a plastic toothpick. Then I decorated them with rose petals while sipping on my glass of red wine. I felt very nice. That feeling of doing nothing is bliss. I could see tiny bubbles forming as the petals gradually sank into the wax. Next moment I heard a popping sound and felt a blob of searing something on my nose. Must have been the bloody wax. So when the fashion show started I was standing at the back pressing a block of ice on my nose. It was wrapped in a white hanky. And then to my dismay I looked to my left side and saw a few male models. One of them is somebody whom I interview often. Of course he was staring.
I guess it has to go down in my evergrowing list of embarrassing moments.