People like to read about people.... am I right?? Reminds me of that old Barbra Streisand song that went...." People.... people who need people.... are the luckiest people in the world." That makes me lucky, I guess. Being a hard core 'people person', I can't seem to get enough of people.... and I have processed thousands in my life. Last night, sitting on the top deck of a yacht just off Chowpatty, chatting with Nandita Das in Bengali, I experienced such a mellow glow, I thought I would light up! It was a beautiful clear night, and I could see the lights of fishing craft miles away , the tide was coming in, making the yacht pitch from time to time.... looking over my shoulder, I could admire the Queen's Necklace in all its glory. Mumbai resembled a bejewelled empress... it was easy to forget its ugly underbelly. Mumbai casts a spell on me periodically.... I love the city unconditionally anyway, but I turn to absolute mush on nights like this one. Nandita is a Dilliwalli. No wonder her hindi is impeccable. Hritik Roshan, seated to her left , commented on how his own hindi was kuchcha when he made his first film. "We grew up with parents who believed their children must know English!" He also confessed he didn't know how to dance and worked really, really hard on his moves during '' Kaho na Pyaar Hai." Incroyable!! How fluid a dancer is the man now??? Practice, he said. Nothing but practice. Sure. Hritik was looking smashing ( the Cannes tan suits him ), and his wife Suzzanne ( Persian flower) has obviously dealt with the white ants (aka Barbara Mori successfully. They looked relaxed and happy together, with much marital banter going back and forth in a natural, unaffected way. It emerged Hritik sings himself to sleep! His own lullaby??? And he has sung a song in 'Kites'. Now all our desi superstars want to sing their own songs - par kyon?? Suzzanne sings too. And dances. So does Nandita. That left Gerard Butler, who arrived later and was jumping on a plane back to LA a few hours on. He'd done the complete Bharat Yatra , from Hrishikesh to Kanya Kumari, with Agra and Varanasi thrown in. After drinking 'pure' Gangajal at Hrishikesh, straight from the river, the poor man was left violently ill. But not ill enough not to come on board a yacht anchored in a choppy, pre-monsoon sea to say au revoir to a destination (and a person?) he has clearly fallen hard for. When I left, Nandita was melodiously singing , " Kabhie na jao chhod kar......" but to me.... not Gerard! Ha ha.