Sunset over the archipelago
In conversation with Anita Sethi at the Hay Festival

Book signing, post- Lit Fest session

Arrival st Soneva Gili, outside Villa 11
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This appeared in Bombay Times yesterday....

Star chauffeurs on the catwalk next??

Strange… and not so strange! I received a longish text message from an international bon vivant, one of India’s sharpest dressers and a total man about town. Of course, he shall go nameless. This was a day after one of the countless fashion weeks ( I have lost track). It read : “My driver wants to walk the ramp ever since his friend who works for a big star, was told by his boss that he’d give him a chance at the next show.” The longish sms expressed anguish and concern at the mockery that is being made in the name of fashion. His lovely and lissome wife agreed. Both these individuals take fashion – international couture in particular - most seriously. They are regulars at showings in Milan, Paris, London and New York, so one can take their word for it when they say what passes for ‘couture’ in India is nothing but a bridal collection…. with a great deal of tamasha and drama thrown in for good measure. I love tamashas and dramas, on and off the catwalk, so I am not complaining. Designers who jump into the pool with their models, others who roar on to the stage on vintage motorbikes…. why not? How dull fashion would be if all we saw on that ramp were great clothes ! Fashion in India is like a headless chicken or a riotous carnival, take your pick. And that’s the way we like it. Ditto ditto for our amazing Bollywood films which make no sense ( two senseless biggies coming up soon ). This is us – illogical and absurd. I told our morose fashionistas the same thing, but they remained unconvinced. ‘Why should we attend couture collections that feature Bollywood stars and not professional models? Is Bollywood that bored?” the nattily dressed gentleman demanded. I thought he was pleading on behalf of the professional models who are facing pay cuts and even joblessness because of the influx of Bollywood on the hallowed catwalk. It doesn’t matter whether those starlets on impossibly high stilettoes stumble, fall, giggle, wave, blow kisses or pop out of their gowns. They still receive catcalls, taalis, seetis, even a standing ovation from their cheer leaders in the front row.But no, my friend was not pleading the models’ case, he was merely stating the obvious – designers who rely heavily on their Bollywood buddies to bail them out during these killingly competitive shows, display nothing more than their lack of creativity. When there is an ideas -crisis, get your glam pals to strut the stuff, is how discerning people are beginning to view these occasions. But frankly, I rather like the idea of star-chauffeurs on the ramp. Some of those fellows are better looking than their employers and throw serious attitude, too. Bring them on!

Now that the Common Wealth Games are behind us, we can start planning for the festive season ahead in right earnest . The endearing Indian ‘Jugaad’ came to our rescue yet again, and deserves a huge gold medal to itself! Our ability to improvise in and adjust to any and every situation , has been lauded by the world. Pulling off these Games with only a couple of minor hitches, has been nothing short of a miracle. That we also managed to collect a respectable number of medals , is another miracle. But let this remain an important lesson for us before we get carried away and start bidding for the Olympics. A sober assessment of what exactly we gained, and whether those crores of tax payers’ money that were spent on what is after all a great big party, were worth it in terms of returns. Are we saying India’s pride comes with a 73,000 crores price tag??