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Thelma

 


Needed more King Coconut than King Khan

Darling Ma-hinder

I may not always don a gagra choli.

Shalwar kameez is perhaps not my popular raiment of choice. Perchance if Kutch Kutch Hota Hai came to a theatre near me it is a film I'm unlikely to know or care much about, but I am as fond of King Khan as the next wench I can tell you.

Certainly there is no guarantee that I will not rather throw pellets into a fresh water pond than go and see Shah Rukh. Nor that I will not prefer to attend the Battaramulla Maha Vidyalaya bun eating contest rather than watch him sing and dance. Whether with Preity Zinta or otherwise is really quite immaterial at this critical juncture in my tale.

But this I can say with a considerable amount of certainty. There will be no bomb throwing, barrier inducing protests. There will be no street marches by yellow robed protesters and what not, usually a method of dissent indulged in by the lower classes, instigated and/or participated in by the likes of me.

I will not deny that I raised a bushy eye brow when it came to my notice all of a sudden that your foreign affairs coordinate Sour-gin had decided to bring down the Bollywood King as entertainment during the summit.

One is however inclined to suspect dearie that try as Sour-gin might he will not be able to convince King Khan that there would not be a repeat performance of the bomb throwing mayhem that took place some time ago instigated by Sour-gin's own allies and help meets. 

Thellie was just this morning sucking on a green tea biscuit and thinking that were SRK to come and were such a disaster to knock once more at his back stage door it will give a whole new meaning to, 'encore, encore.'

And the chap was to be brought in to entertain none other than the Premier of Mother India himself. As if the poor fellow is not inundated every waking moment with hoardings of King Khan, telly ads by Khan and hoarse cries of SRK, SRK by love struck fans numbering at a rough estimate some nine hundred and ninety nine million.

I mean to say that poor turbaned Sikh must be bally sick of the passion with which the natives run their everyday lives and their parliament. The hapless fellow was shouted down last week to such an extent he had to even give his parliament speech in writing.

So you can imagine that a couple of days in Paradise was intended more as a rest cure for the body and soul. Me thinks he may have preferred to unravel his white turban, set aside the comb, pen knife and other memorabilia traditionally wrapped in the cloth on his boudoir dressing table, kick off his chappals, sit back on his tired spine and listen to the calming if a little mournful stuff crooned out by a droopy eyed Nanda Malini and a sleepy Amaradeva.

A man who has just escaped the jaws of a Trust motion in a piranha infested political arena is not a man who has the patience to sit through loud belches of sound at fantastic concerts. He prefers a little peace. He expects a little quiet.

Rather droll I thought, Sour-gin's idea of getting SRK to spearhead the summit entertainment. A matter for Levity I wager the fact that for one week the public of this country who paid over five billion smackers for the SAARC party is kept under house arrest and not invited to the party either.

Funny I thought how the masses are plucked from their homes, bundled into buses and dispatched to tiny wooden line rooms packed like sardines, which one must admit is no bally way to be unless you are a sardine, at which time of course you will have much more pressing problems to deal with.

You see darling as Thellie understands it there is more to hosting an international event than just partying on. It is usually taken as a great opportunity to show case the host nation's culture, investment openings, business, exports etcetera etcetera.

I mean to say you won't have China calling for hot entertainers from every which where during the Olympics now would you. I wager all the visitors and tourists will get as entertainment would be gymnasts on cycles piled on top of each other, and winding Chinese dragons from beneath which a hundred Chinese steer the paper monster.

It would have been better then for Sour-gin whether he coordinates your foreign affairs or whether he does not coordinate your foreign affairs, to have looked at the SAARC entertainment in a more local light. He should have thought more King Coconut than King Khan. More SRK paradisian style - that is reading left to right Sweetmeats, Rasakevili and Kavun  rather than SRK Indian style that is reading left to right if you like Shah Rukh Khan.

Tara for now.


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