It was a very funny morning today. I got through most of my chores and then was idly reading the paper when I found that our own city lifestyle supplement was full of gossip, pictures and news about the wedding of the year…or is it decade? Logical, yes, since it is the focus of all attention, no matter how disinterested someone may be in the union of two over-exposed celebrities, but funny because just yesterday my wonderfully irascible boss had been characteristically rude about how a rival publication had produced a complete fluff issue on the same subject. Admittedly ours was not as fluffy and certainly nowhere near as gushy and sycophantic, but it was, all considered, focussed on the only subject most Mumbaikars are talking about, especially today: the wedding of Aishwarya Rai and Abhishek Bachchan.
It’s going to be an occasion to remember. And if this is all about keeping it quiet and restricted to family and close friends only, I am starting to wonder what ‘making a splash’ would be like! The section of the city it will all happen in has been given some special status by the authorities, by the media and, of course, by those who are invited to the various events, those who are not and those who wish they were. The people who live in the area do not really count, they just happen to live there, after all. And everywhere, from almost everyone, there has been an enthusiastic outpouring of good wishes and congratulations, almost as if the bridal couple were personally connected with each person who says something about them. I would, too, if I was not so irritated with all the hype and, I must admit, a little envious at the joy they seem to share.
I have met Aishwarya Rai only once, just before she won the Miss World contest. She had just won second place in the Miss India pageant and was sitting in the office of the editor of the magazine that sponsored it. I wandered in to clarify something for the website of the magazine, since that was what I did then, and found myself looking at this girl seated in one of the chairs inside that room. She was very fair, very slim, very small, with a radiant smile and a shy manner. I said a polite hello and wished her well for the competition that she would face shortly and got a smile and a few equally polite words in return. After she won the crown, and made progress into the world of Hindi films, I never saw her in person, but always saw that picture of her when her name was mentioned. And, over the years, as she giggled her way inanely through interviews and photocalls and red carpets and press conferences and hammed her way to heroine-hood, I wondered where she would find herself so many years later. And now she begins something new and exciting – will she win it, the way she seems to have won almost everything else that she has done?
Abhishek, on the other hand, was nothing special, the once that I met him. But he had the charm and polish a young man of his background and upbringing ought to have. He was in the office for a press conference for a film that he was starring in. the film sank, mercifully unseen by many, killed by the critics and audiences alike. But the young actor made his impact during his visit. Though he was rather overshadowed by the starry presence of Hrithik Roshan, a co-star, he held his own. He shook hands with a couple of young women on the floor, reducing them to puddles of ecstacy. He patted a few male sales executives on the shoulder, making them pull themselves up to their full heights and puff out their chests. And he had me – yes, cynical, world-weary, hard-nosed me – beaming fondly at him when he exchanged wisecracks and chuckles with me as we waited for the next journalist to interview him. Can he keep that charm and sense of humour for ever?
I wait and watch. And, like everyone else in the world who may know about the wedding, I wish them well.
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