Wednesday, April 25, 2012


She was staring. But it was a vacant stare; the eyes – they rested on some random object while her
mind was busy processing something. She had a very solemn look on her face, which waxed and
waned in intensity. One minute she looked like she was going to relax – well almost; for the very
next second her cheeks would tighten, her forehead creased with worry lines, her eyebrows crinkled
and her lips tautly drawn. What was bothering her?

Well at least he had something to keep him occupied to get through the boring session.

Come to think of it, her face isn’t extra-ordinary, but there’s something nice about it. In fact, lots of
things. Her eyes, beautifully lined with kohl; her nose, straight and long; her lips – thin and a healthy
pink; her hair – long and flowing, like a black cascade; the tiny bindi centered between her well-
shaped brows…

There she was, doodling away in her book; not paying attention to the session of course. She looked
up. And caught him looking at her. He continued to stare. She tried to avoid his gaze. She would
look here and there, only to check on him the very next instance – his eyes would still be on her. She
fiddled with the pen, kept pushing her hair behind her ears, checked the time every few seconds,
pretended to write something – to no avail. She was disconcerted by him staring at her. He started
deriving some amusement from this game they were engaged in. A few minutes later, he suddenly
noticed a quiet resolve on her face. And then she stared back. So that was her game plan; to beat
him at his own game. She seemed determined to shame him into defeat. And she continued to
stare; almost taunting him to do the same. A dare, or so it seemed; but little did she know him.

If she thought that he would retreat by the challenge, she was sadly mistaken. One must never
question the depths of a man’s shamelessness. Far from being cowered by her might gaze, he in
turn started enjoying the attention she paid him; he looked like a puppy who got a bone. He returned
the favour too – he stared at her with increased intensity (if such a thing was possible).

She didn’t give up. Strands of her hair flew over her face, and yet she didn’t make a move to remove
them. He took in that sight with admiration – she was growing more appealing by the minute; her
penetrating gaze holding his – moments where nothing mattered. Only she existed in his vision; and
he in hers.

How long did it last? A few seconds? Minutes? It seemed like eternity though.

She gently lowered her eyes. And she broke out into a smile. She lost the game; or maybe won his

There was the enigmatic smile – where was she hiding it all along? It felt like a thousand suns had
risen on her face. The girl with the worry lines had vanished! It seemed like someone else had taken
her place. He was floored by this new persona. There was more to her than what he saw. And he
liked it.

She appeared more relaxed from then on. She would take quick glances at him, sharing warm
smiles every time. They, who were engaged in an open stare contest until a few minutes back,
were now indulging in taking sneak peeks of each other. The bell rang. The lecturer wrapped up
the session and walked off. The crowd stood up, eager to disperse. She quickly packed her bag.
She walked till the door, and turned back, smiled at him one last time before walking off. He was still
seated – a wide grin pasted on his face.

Me? I walked off after an enriching session on how the human mind works.

Wednesday, April 04, 2012

Will the real SRK please stand up?

He arrived as the lad with an impish grin and a boyish charm. His first release, Deewana turned prophetic – he became the iconic crazy and passionate lover. He defied norms when he chose to be the antihero instead of the archetypal hero. He might have lost the leading lady on screen, but instead won the hearts of millions in the audience. The hysterical mob of women who still swoon and scream at his arrival exemplifies the extent of his influence. He became a self-made superstar; the Badshaah of Bollywood, they call him. And why not? He is just living up to his name – Shahrukh (which literally means ‘face of the king’)!


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