"My Desi Girl..."

The clock ticked away…well that is what it is supposed to do, given it has no other worth wile purpose in its life! It was an unearthly 15 minutes past midnight. Slumped in a seat outside Gate 14 of Terminal C, I fidgeted in an uncomfortable sleep.

Then suddenly my mobile phone-the bane of modern lifestyles, started vibrating violently and emanated a silly tone. I cursed it from the bottom of my heart. I thought it had done so deliberately with the sole purpose of disturbing my 40 winks. Caught between the throes of going back to sleep and hacking the hell out of the phone with a sickle, it was with much relief that I discerned the boarding call for flight 9W0062 from Mumbai to Bangkok amidst the din going on behind my back. The source of this cacophonous orgy was a group overzealous bunch of travelers who had no qualms over exercising their vocal chords at the highest pitch, much to the chagrin of unfortunate souls like myself.

Thinking nothing worse can befall me I proceeded towards the boarding gate where many people were clamoring to be the first to board the plane. Inured to the constant hustle and bustle of Mumbai- local trains, buses, et all, their mind had become impervious to reason. Poor ingenuous souls did not realize that the vehicle designated to carry them to Thailand- The land of the White Elephant had not denigrated to the class of cut-throat travel. With much relief I recollected that we were to be seated in the Business Class and returned the obsequious greetings of the flight attendant.

Finally seated and already getting comfortable I was throwing cursory glances to investigate what company I would be sharing when suddenly the craft went silent and I witnessed a wonder of the modern world step in. Straight trousers, smart striped shirt which accentuated her figure, stylish red rimmed spectacles and above all – the epitome of beauty, she headed straight to where me and my sister were seated and my heart missed a beat! The air-hostess then directed her to a seat diagonally opposite me and it finally dawned upon me that we were in the august company of the ‘Desi Girl’, Piggy-chops or PC.

Now a point of clarification, I detest all the titles endowed upon the subject of this conversation.

Desi Girl? It has the insinuations of something sinister or crude like Desi Daru…My friend CC can elaborate.

Piggy-Chops? I understand the porcine admiration of Lord Emsworth in Wodehouse’s Blandings Castle but no one in their proper minds can choose to associate the dahling with anything to do with a pig. Not even those desi-dipsomaniacs mind you!

PC? She is one of her kind, how can u call her PC, it sounds so bland and hackneyed

I would prefer to call her, Miss Priyanka Chopra. For all those who did not have the insight to understand the object of my loquacious ramblings uptil now – Bollywoods very own Priyanka Chopra had just boarded the plane and was about 4 feet away from me.

The reaction in the plane was interesting. I was totally stunned and must have been open mouthedly staring into space. My sister was quickly commenting on her pros and cons, her positives and negatives, her qualities and vices, her ying and yang, I cannot understand how women can so quickly prepare a character sketch of another specimen of the same sex!

A gentleman and his family were feeling as if an exotic animal had been brought to the zoo, especially for them to witness; his wife quickly sat on the seat besides Miss Chopra and started brushing her hair in a clear attempt to outshine Miss Chopra in the picture which her husband was gearing up to click! Some celerity on part of the air-hostess prevented this from happening and the couple was quickly dispatched to their seats at the far end of the plane.

The seats in front of us were occupied by a middle-aged man and his wife, Priyanka had booked both the seats to their left-diagonally opposite me. Now undeterred by the firmness with which the earlier paparazzi were treated, this gentleman got up with his cell-phone and attempted to click a picture. Miss Priyanka was agitated and suddenly sprang into animated gestures as if the director had yelled-ACTION

Miss Priyanka-“How dare you try to take my picture! Shut the camera right now! “

Mrs. Paparazzi-“He is not interested in you. He is just taking pictures of friends sitting behind you!”

Mr. Paparazzi-“Who are you to decide that I am not interested! Ofcourse I am interested!” (in his mind of course)

Airhostess- “ Photography is totally prohibited in the flight. Kindly take your seats!”

Me-“ Ah! My day is made. Now that was quite a tamasha!”

Airhostess (to Mrs. Paparazzi)- “ Now ma’am, this is our menu from which you can order later”.

Mrs. Paparazzi- “Huh…I don’t want anything!” (Clearly embarrassed)

While all this drama ensued, Priyanka was conveniently talking on the phone. Not just talking but smiling and giggling.

Nupur was convinced it was Shahid Kapoor. I didn’t care. The air-hostess obviously cared! She requested Priyanka to switch off her phone. The request was ignored. The same instruction was repeated as the safety procedures were explained and the craft started taxing towards the runway. Special request to Priyanka which again was greeted with more giggling into the phone. Flight ready to take off and Priyanka was asked again to switch off her phone; she replied haughtily-“ I am trying to!”. Some more giggling and eventually she obliged.

Seat belts were fastened, peace descended in the cabin, the craft picked up speed and we were on our way to Bangkok. The Star-Experience had been phenomenal. Attitude was on display to the hilt. Are all the stars the same? Disregard for common rules and regulations? Air of superiority just because millions adore them? If yes then I totally pity them!