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Watching Mallika turn Mehbooba

In life, there come moments when you goggle.

It is abject helplessness as you -- forgetting even to flounder for the right words -- lose your rationality, your articulation, heck, any sort of coherence. You stand, stare, and hope that bewildered smile on your face is acceptable.

Such a moment it was, then, when I ran into Mallika Sherawat last week. In clockwork harmony, I arrived just in time, was ushered towards a big white trailer, and told ma'am would see me now. Fab. I entered, and turned to my right to see Mme Mallika, larger than life and thrice as spectacular, disarmingly dressed in full regalia.

'Do you like it?' she asked with a big smile, as we shook hands. 'It' was Helen's exact dress from Sholay, a bright green shiny top, a flouncy skirt made up of saffron and the same green, and Ms Sherawat's distinctive body, poured through it in a way that made your head spin. Plus, a crazy retro wig, Medusa ringlets crafted compellingly together in a careful mess.

"Yurg," I believe I manfully declared, as I continued the aforementioned goggle. She smiled, sat back, mercifully pulled a robe around her, and we started to talk.

Text: Raja Sen | Design: Uday Kuckian


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