I was watching this hilarious episode of Koffee with Karan last week (before you jump on me with "How can you say humor and Gay Johar in the same breath, PU, lemme clarify, it was just a one off thing), which brought a very special memory of Bombay. Since the url of this blog and its mores root from there, I guess I will never really stop writing about my memories of the city. Coming back: this particular episode of the soppy director/ producer's talk show played host to three performers by who I'm quite tickled. Riteish Deshmukh (for his comic timing), Sajid Khan (for his unabashed bitching of all of the Hindi Film Industry) and Boman Irani (for the life he brings to every character he portrays, his svelte personal countenance and of course, those Bawa dimples).
Boman Irani and I have a personal connection. And while it may sound completely outrageous because he probably didn't even notice it and celebrity encounters happen all the time in a place like Bombay and I
have no reason to claim mine was special, it changed a day and reaffirmed a young girl's belief: that Boman's the Boss! Like ANYONE cares for such a belief either.
Exactly a year ago, when I was barely coming to terms with my job and what not in Bombay, and life seemed nothing short of a hell hole, one evening, I wept silent tears riding pillion behind a jam weilding NiNa
before Khodadad Circle on the bike.
As suddenly as it seemed to have dissolved in the thick traffic, there appeared a white sedan with a very reclined driver's seat and a driver who seemed to have come straight from a trip to the Bahamas. Music
gentlemanly plugged in through the earphones and a boy of about 12 sitting beside him doing ditto.
In a jiffy, Irani and my glances met, and he had this mischievous wink 'n smile as if to say, 'god's design, what to do?'
I will never forget the 0 to 60 my tears did with drying up. I've always believed Irani to be one of the most charismatic personalities among recent entrants in the indian film industry. He has the power to bring terror as efficiently as joy to a room full of individuals on the silver screen. But this one time, he proved he
could also mesmerize off it.
Thank you Boman bawa, for making my royally screwed day better. *hug*
Boman Irani and I have a personal connection. And while it may sound completely outrageous because he probably didn't even notice it and celebrity encounters happen all the time in a place like Bombay and I
have no reason to claim mine was special, it changed a day and reaffirmed a young girl's belief: that Boman's the Boss! Like ANYONE cares for such a belief either.
Exactly a year ago, when I was barely coming to terms with my job and what not in Bombay, and life seemed nothing short of a hell hole, one evening, I wept silent tears riding pillion behind a jam weilding NiNa
before Khodadad Circle on the bike.
As suddenly as it seemed to have dissolved in the thick traffic, there appeared a white sedan with a very reclined driver's seat and a driver who seemed to have come straight from a trip to the Bahamas. Music
gentlemanly plugged in through the earphones and a boy of about 12 sitting beside him doing ditto.
In a jiffy, Irani and my glances met, and he had this mischievous wink 'n smile as if to say, 'god's design, what to do?'
I will never forget the 0 to 60 my tears did with drying up. I've always believed Irani to be one of the most charismatic personalities among recent entrants in the indian film industry. He has the power to bring terror as efficiently as joy to a room full of individuals on the silver screen. But this one time, he proved he
could also mesmerize off it.
Thank you Boman bawa, for making my royally screwed day better. *hug*
2 comments:
Its the city, I tell you. Its the city. Worlds collide in unexpected ways.
and i suppose people's paths cross in as bizzare ways :)
thanks for stopping by
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