SOMEBODY AND NOBODY

It was the lawns of a posh club on the western suburb of Mumbai. Six of us, including my wife and son, had settled around a large table and were enjoying the grand wedding reception. There were hundreds of guests, and the venue was stunning, with liquor freely flowing, and the sumptuous snacks and dinner. The December chill and the moonless sky, along with the subtle background music, had added romance to the ambiance. We were joking, laughing and sharing, completely oblivious of the time. No one bothered us, except the occasional 'hello' from some familiar faces, or 'please help yourself' from the hosts, or a passing video camera. It was the quintessential 'good time' ... and it was all ours.

But, after a while, it was not to be 'ours'. It became 'theirs'.

The celebrities started dropping in. And, there was great buzz around. "Look Subhash Ghai," some shouted. Mr. Ghai was with his friends. Unlike we six - who were all suited and booted - he wore a simple pant and shirt. Yet, people gaped at him. "Hey, it is Siddharth Kakkar and his wife," ..."There, he is Saambha," ..."His name is Mac Mohan,"... "I know," ... "See Bindu there," ... "Boy, she still looks hot," ... "Gosh, Govinda looks so trimmed," ... "Look at his ear rings; cool."

The party was not to be what it was for us before these famous guests made their appearance. Men, women and children made beeline to them for an autograph or a photograph. And, they obliged without a fuss. Some carried the souvenir on the back of their visiting cards, some on the tissues from their table, and some on their train or BEST bus tickets. But, all of them were so thrilled and happy.

"What a sorry sight!" one of us commented. "Why do people give so much importance to these glamour guys?"

"Precisely for that reason. They are glamorous, famous." added another.

"There are hundreds of guests out here, some of them highly placed in life ... very intelligent, very contributing kind ... and there are so many well-dressed people out here, and still no one seems to be interested in all this. They want the glitter, the cosmetic stuff," continued the first. "Dud heads!"

"See it this way," said the third. "You and I can sit here for hours, enjoying quietly our party. Nobody is a pain for us. But, look at these celebrities. They can't even eat peacefully."

"We are lucky," I agreed. "Blessed are those who are 'nobodies'!"

"Blessed? My foot. I don't mind exchanging our tables," said a young man. "It is not a big deal, after all, to sign a few autographs or pose for a few pictures. Success and fame do come with such frills. One should be prepared for it."

"It is a choice," my wife joined.

A smartly dressed man was taking around his tall and handsome son, who was equally dressed well, to all around the tables were the celebrities had settled. He wanted his son to be photographed with every celebrity present there. He succeeded.

"Look, the father is making his 'choice' for his son," popped a comment.

And, when all this was happening, all around, one of us went about his affairs, as though nothing unusual happened. He seemed to be unruffled by all this.

"Was he really unaffected, or just pretending to be?" I thought aloud.

Whatever it is, the men, women and children who jumped excitedly, seemed the happiest. They just did what their hearts simply wanted them to do: Take autographs, take pictures with their screen idols ... It brought smiles on their faces, they could go back home and talk about their 'achievements', show their souvenirs. The celebrities, no matter how gaped upon and nagged, could go back a little more fulfilled, because of their own 'achievements: for making their fans happy.

And, what about us - the spectators, the 'Scrutinising Committee'?

SOMEBODY is unhappy: because, nobody allows him to enjoy his evening.
NOBODY is unhappy: because, everybody is gaping at SOMEBODY.

What happened to the December chill, the moonless sky and the soft
music?

What happened to the romantic evening?



GERALD D'CUNHA