In these days of plaguish darkness, there are people who believe, mistakenly we think, that a Covid-free dawn will light up the Indian firmament. For the rest of us, visions of festive happiness and gaiety expressed in a public spirit appear as mirages do in the empty quarter of Arabia—ever in sight, ever elusive. Id Al-Adha crept up in our blue funk—and was spent in subdued enjoyment. Blessed then, are children too young to grasp a sense of doom; blessed like Izhaan, a little stunner as there ever was one, in a gorgeous navy blue kurta, waving good cheer to the likes of us from the secure haven of mum Sania Mirza’s clasp, who looks resplendently contented in a pink, embroidered salwar suit.
Close your eyes, summon the time machine called Memory, and transport yourself to your childhood school. Coloured by vivid detail and a soft haziness that approaches old photos, what you remember are your mates: the expression of one as he greedily gobbled up his tiffin, or the way another’s face sharpened in concentration, or how one doubled up in uncontrollable mirth. Then there are the class photos, where all strove to present their impish best. This one is from actor Sharman Joshi’s album, from 1984. In rare happenstance, it includes others fated to be in Bollywood: Farhan Akhtar, producer Ritesh Sidhwani and Divya Bharti, whom filmdom lost so early, so tragically..
Few women with straight, short, straw blonde hair in a gown with chains on it look happier; few men who has swung past a supermodel wife lusted after by half the world seem gladder in the presence of a new love. Orlando Bloom and Katy Perry were married to Miranda Kerr and Russell Brand before finding each other, losing each other, then in a clinch again. Expecting their first child has loosened Katy’s loving tongue. Orlando, she gurgles gratefully, is “spiritually evolved”, “a sage”, “a Buddha” and has had a calming influence on her as she battled clinical depression. Veritably, after a bout with the volatile, wild-eyed, crazy-bearded Brand, a sparser trim soothes nerves.
It takes a lot of talent, d’ye know, you oglers, to come up tops in a line of work—we’re whispering bikini modeling here—where there’s virtually a scrum of sleek limbs and sleeker hair and the good bits in between. At the end of it, only the few best remain strutting, one of them being Sierra Skye. While this confidently, solemnly worn purplish-patched piece with intriguing cross-straps leaves no doubt about her ability, Sierra is also a blooming fitspo, what with her regimented fitness routine. When she signed up as one of Oh Polly’s models, they captioned her thus: “She’s gold, baby”. Who are we to argue?