Young Fred Johar
Could there be anything cuter than Karan Johar shaking his booty in the Koffee With Karan promos?
>> Could there be anything cuter than Karan Johar shaking his booty in the Koffee With Karan promos? Suited, booted, bow-tied and in possession of more pizzazz than a Broadway show girl, KJo with his zest and style can put any star out to pasture with his moves.
Where on earth did he learn to dance like that, we asked his doting mother Hiroo, recently. The graceful lady laughed at the query. “He was the shyest, most sensitive child you could ever imagine,” said his proud mother, an alumni of a pucca boarding school in Nainital, run by European nuns. “He grew up listening to all my records of Cliff Richards, Ricky Nelson and Connie Francis,” she said. “And honestly I loved to dance, so I guess he gets his love for dancing from me,” she revealed.
“Later as a teen, he even enrolled himself for dance lessons in Salome Roy Kapur’s (Siddharth’s mother) classes,” she revealed.
And does she have pictures of the putative Astaire dancing as a child?
“Unfortunately no,” said Hiroo. “All our albums got misplaced when we moved from Malabar Hill to Pali.”
Kinds of money
>> Will this bumptious banker ever stop attracting the wrong kind of notice? Not likely say people, as he’s gone in to ‘sponsorship overdrive’ — lending his bank’s name, big bucks and support to any and every high-profile event in the country for clout and social acceptance: Fashion shows, art shows, charity dinners and awards nights, there’s nothing the long arm of his sponsorship has not touched. But to little avail.
A guest at a society dinner for Sharon Stone thrown by a billionaire, bon vivant recently couldn’t stop talking about the man’s behaviour at the party. “Full of himself, loud and rude,” is how she described it.
Almost half a year ago we’d reported on the choice invectives and North Indian swear words an otherwise exemplary gentleman business leader had spewed on Mr BB when he overheard him showing off about his achievements. “We were pleasantly surprised to see how all one’s Ivy League polish could crumble in front of Mr BB’s boorishness,” said another business leader belonging to the Old Boy’s Club.
Incidentally, to the existing hierarchies of wealth in the city that call for various ministries of swagger such as old money and bank money, there’s one more that can be added to the list: newly-acquired money.
In some circles it speaks the loudest.
Goa or Jaipur?
>> Ah, life’s choices: mid-January we’ve been invited on exactly the same days to two completely different, but equally attractive weekend celebrations — and given that both are being organised by friends and both involve exactly the kind of recreational activity that we thrive on — we are in a quandary.
The first happens to be in Goa and came in the form of a cryptic save the date SMS from our friend the statuesque educationist Lina (Kangaroo Kids) Asher: “Kishore (Bajaj) is planning to celebrate my birthday in Goa,” she texted, referring to the restaurateur and fashion maven who happens to be a relative of hers. “Details will follow soon,” she ended enigmatically.
Given it was Asher, a lady who we have much regard for and it involved a weekend in Goa — began picturing sarongs, sun-kissed beaches and sickly sweet cocktails with miniature paper umbrellas in them, even before we’d put the phone down.
And then we received a mail inviting us to spend time with another dear friend at another weekend celebration, this time in another favourite city of ours on the same day!
“On behalf of Goodearth’s Anita Lal, HH Rajmata Padmini, and Princess Diya Kumari, of Jaipur we would like to extend a ‘royal Invitation’ to join us for the launch of the restored Rajmahal Palace Hotel, Jaipur by Team Goodearth and a book launch by Vasundhara Raje,” it read.
And this time we imagined days of elephant polo, viewings of princely jewels and nights at the Amer Fort!
So what will it be finally? Sun sand and sea in Goa or a royal extravaganza in Rajasthan?
Choices, choices! It’s a tough life-but some one’s gotta do it, as they say!
Slow response artist
Between you and me, I hold people who have strong responses, instant views and strident opinions on daily affairs in great awe.
Me, it takes weeks for things to percolate, permeate through my emotions, and get filtered through my brain.
I couldn’t give you a sound byte or a quotable quote on a current affair even if my life depended on it!
All you would get were nuanced perspectives, layered opinions and textured persuasions. With a lot of dithering thrown in.
And these days particularly, where so much of human nature is on display to be examined judged and commented on, I find that by the time I get my head around to excavating what I really and truly feel about something, regardless of peer pressure or media influence-the moment has passed, it’s yesterday’s news and there’s another- even more compelling headline that has convulsed society.
Which is why I have such a sneaking admiration for those who daily, hour after hour, can tell the world what is right and wrong and who’s to blame.
Let’s face it; some of us have the answers, and some always and only the questions.
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