Yes.................I love him, absolutely and irrevocably, I love Salman Khan.
I know he has been replaced by younger sex bombs like Hrithik, Abhishek, and John. But, my Sallu still gets my eart pounding, knees trembling and cheeks dimpling.
No one...yes...not even John has mastered the art of taking off his shirt the way Salman Khan has. No one has shown us the addictive appeal of the waxed chest like Sallu baba.
I know he mows down people when he drives, shoots a few stray animals and beats up his girlfriends, but I still love him.
I think its just the classic appeal of the bad boy. Sallu is the quintissential bad boy. And every woman loves a rogue.
He is also the only man I know who can carry off a see through black lace shirt, or in the current case an orange open necked jacket (Salaam-e-Ishq) and not look like a dork.
I saw him after a long time on screen in role written for him. Not for my Sallu baba the tear jerkers or machismo roles. Make him a James Dean who can love em, leave em, and sweep them off their feet, and then coolly sip his glass of red wine.
Let him growl, Raohuol.......in your ear, bite your neck and run away. OOHHHHHHH LALA!
Maybe I'm just growing old, but Sallu is as sexy as ever, and if that muscular torso is albiet a lil more beefy and the hair looks well-woven on, then so what? I am no spring chicken either and very very perfect young men only make me feel older. So we are growing older together, Sallu and me :)
He makes the other heros look like sweet innocent boys, and he plays the refined rake with a heart of gold to perfection.
Yes, he hams, cos he is the master of the comic love story. And cos he is the bad boy who can whisk you away and make you forget the world, the way even Hrithik in Dhoom 2 just about manages.
And thats why I love him......................I once bumped into him at a discotheque told him I loved him and the foolish man offered to be my brother instead. Perhaps that was because my husband was glaring at his drunk wife batting eyelashes at her fav hero and a svelete Somy sumthing was with Salman. But this love story hasn't ended yet...................
Not till the next Saalam-E-Ishq, it won't!
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Three in Bed
I know the title is so misleading..........................
yesterday two friends of mine, a gal and a boy, spent out evening in bed.
Before you faint in shock, this was not a seedy menage a trois. Instead it began when I called up my gal pal and invited her over for a 'gals nite in', and she in turn invited our mutual guy pal.
A few drinks and lots of food later, we were abvsolutely knackered and wondering ways of beating the freezing cold. Till my horridly tyrannical five and half year old wanted to include us in his silly little game. The game was a spaceflight to thailand, if you please.
And he bullied and badgered us to go into my bedroom and wait for the ship to take off. Once inside the covers were too tempting for us gals, so we snuggled in. And we switched on the heater and slept. I mean I giggled, my friend did her kniting and our guy pal fell asleep. So much for exotic excitement.
This is of course,the closest I have got to a threesome in bed. But, it was still a cosy moment, and absolutely unpretentious, with friends who know you so well, you don't even need to brush your hair with them. The knitting of course, was the piece de resistance in terms of boredom, and absolutely take for granted relaxation.
And if you don'tbelieve the chaste evening, catch the pics my son took with the cellphone :)
yesterday two friends of mine, a gal and a boy, spent out evening in bed.
Before you faint in shock, this was not a seedy menage a trois. Instead it began when I called up my gal pal and invited her over for a 'gals nite in', and she in turn invited our mutual guy pal.
A few drinks and lots of food later, we were abvsolutely knackered and wondering ways of beating the freezing cold. Till my horridly tyrannical five and half year old wanted to include us in his silly little game. The game was a spaceflight to thailand, if you please.
And he bullied and badgered us to go into my bedroom and wait for the ship to take off. Once inside the covers were too tempting for us gals, so we snuggled in. And we switched on the heater and slept. I mean I giggled, my friend did her kniting and our guy pal fell asleep. So much for exotic excitement.
This is of course,the closest I have got to a threesome in bed. But, it was still a cosy moment, and absolutely unpretentious, with friends who know you so well, you don't even need to brush your hair with them. The knitting of course, was the piece de resistance in terms of boredom, and absolutely take for granted relaxation.
And if you don'tbelieve the chaste evening, catch the pics my son took with the cellphone :)
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Hair Spas and Supermodels
I don't know what it is about a hair spa that is an instant pick me up. Yesterday, I reached my colony ready to kill someone at the end of a long, tiring day.
Till my mother called me up and assured me of two baby free hours. We have a new parlour in our plaza building replete with the latest electronic and technical wizardry to make women beautiful.
Which is why I spent two blissful hours getting a hair spa done, and finished feeling like MS. Diva!
There is something about having a nice, stylish, sleek mane of hair that makes any woman smile. I am not an exception at all. There is nothing better than the intense pampering a simple shampoo and blow dry can give a woman. Not for me the facials, spas or massage treatments, just something nice for my crowning glory. A friend of mine comes every year from Mumbai and is a hair spa addict. She has been known to sneak into parlous before her events and spend one hour of ultimate peace before the panic starts. Of course, that is because as a business associate I do a lot of the panicking for her.
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that inside this pudgy 5 foot 1 frame is a 5'11 super skinny Brazilian super model aching to jump out. After being designated shrimp of the locker room at many a fashion show, it is only the super confidence of the Brazilian supermodel that keeps this chica going.
Or maybe all those years of mental trauma of being first of three in line in school assembly (shortest to tallest) , has played havoc with my self-esteem, and created a split personality. The only advantage as I remember telling friends over a drunken evening is that unlike my Ms. World lookalike best friend whose tall lithe figure and curly locks scream for attention, my short, ordinary, average height and build, assures me all the secrecy of a supari killer, an alternative profession under consideration once i retire from pr.
There are always advantages in life, even if they are short ones topped with a head of sparkling, shimmering, spa-ed hair!
Till my mother called me up and assured me of two baby free hours. We have a new parlour in our plaza building replete with the latest electronic and technical wizardry to make women beautiful.
Which is why I spent two blissful hours getting a hair spa done, and finished feeling like MS. Diva!
There is something about having a nice, stylish, sleek mane of hair that makes any woman smile. I am not an exception at all. There is nothing better than the intense pampering a simple shampoo and blow dry can give a woman. Not for me the facials, spas or massage treatments, just something nice for my crowning glory. A friend of mine comes every year from Mumbai and is a hair spa addict. She has been known to sneak into parlous before her events and spend one hour of ultimate peace before the panic starts. Of course, that is because as a business associate I do a lot of the panicking for her.
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that inside this pudgy 5 foot 1 frame is a 5'11 super skinny Brazilian super model aching to jump out. After being designated shrimp of the locker room at many a fashion show, it is only the super confidence of the Brazilian supermodel that keeps this chica going.
Or maybe all those years of mental trauma of being first of three in line in school assembly (shortest to tallest) , has played havoc with my self-esteem, and created a split personality. The only advantage as I remember telling friends over a drunken evening is that unlike my Ms. World lookalike best friend whose tall lithe figure and curly locks scream for attention, my short, ordinary, average height and build, assures me all the secrecy of a supari killer, an alternative profession under consideration once i retire from pr.
There are always advantages in life, even if they are short ones topped with a head of sparkling, shimmering, spa-ed hair!
Thursday, January 4, 2007
Hansel and Gretel?
Today morning I had to sit my five and half year old son down and explain to him the concept of a 'stranger'.
It took a lot of effort and a little help from the tradtional fairy tale to explain to him that every adult in this world is not nice to little children. In fact, suffice it to say that I had to literally show him pictures of the Nithari villagers holding up photographs of their children in the newspaper to get him to understand that the big bad witch and wolf do not just exist in story books.
Many times we explain to our children, don't open the door, don't talk to strangers, take nothing form anyone, don't smile at someone if they smile back at you.
And I wonder............"Welcome Xenophobia" and "Paranoia". This is the world view we are giving to them: Close your doors, close yourself to the world, because there are monsters out there.
And, yes, as Nithari shows us, there really are monsters out there.
When I was 12 years old I was molested for the first and last time. My parents took us to a toy store in CP, in Delhi and the toy store salesman felt me up. I still recall the hot shame, shock and anguish those few moments meant to me. I never understood what was happening. The store was crowded and I kept thinking it was my imagination. But the moment I got out of the store, I burst into hot tears. Needless to say my parents told me never to take that kind of treatment from anyone again. They supported me and believed me and taught me the gumption to slap anyone who touched me without permission.
No one ever did touch me again.................at least not without my permission.
But before that I did not even know that adults could treat children that way. Telling my son at half of the age I was, does not feel good. But, we have no choices. And I am sure every parent dreads this 'talk' as much as I did.
Knowledge is power in a world where the mind is warped and with fear. And research shows that history repeats itself in the case of child molestation.
If I was the government of this country, I would hand over the Nithari killers to the parents of those tortured children and let the natural and pagan laws of justice prevail. Sometimes the court of law is too banal for henious crimes.
But when we do start catching the real culprit which is the breeding ground of these horrors?
It took a lot of effort and a little help from the tradtional fairy tale to explain to him that every adult in this world is not nice to little children. In fact, suffice it to say that I had to literally show him pictures of the Nithari villagers holding up photographs of their children in the newspaper to get him to understand that the big bad witch and wolf do not just exist in story books.
Many times we explain to our children, don't open the door, don't talk to strangers, take nothing form anyone, don't smile at someone if they smile back at you.
And I wonder............"Welcome Xenophobia" and "Paranoia". This is the world view we are giving to them: Close your doors, close yourself to the world, because there are monsters out there.
And, yes, as Nithari shows us, there really are monsters out there.
When I was 12 years old I was molested for the first and last time. My parents took us to a toy store in CP, in Delhi and the toy store salesman felt me up. I still recall the hot shame, shock and anguish those few moments meant to me. I never understood what was happening. The store was crowded and I kept thinking it was my imagination. But the moment I got out of the store, I burst into hot tears. Needless to say my parents told me never to take that kind of treatment from anyone again. They supported me and believed me and taught me the gumption to slap anyone who touched me without permission.
No one ever did touch me again.................at least not without my permission.
But before that I did not even know that adults could treat children that way. Telling my son at half of the age I was, does not feel good. But, we have no choices. And I am sure every parent dreads this 'talk' as much as I did.
Knowledge is power in a world where the mind is warped and with fear. And research shows that history repeats itself in the case of child molestation.
If I was the government of this country, I would hand over the Nithari killers to the parents of those tortured children and let the natural and pagan laws of justice prevail. Sometimes the court of law is too banal for henious crimes.
But when we do start catching the real culprit which is the breeding ground of these horrors?
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