Boman Irani and Riteish Deshmukh tried to outdo SRK and Saif Ali Khan, and I wished they didn't. But I must admit their takeoff on Om Can't be Om, Jab They Left, etc was hilarious.

And, since it called itself rather pompously the International Indian Film Academy awards or somesuch, I expected it to be more than a Bollywood show. Alas, the only non-Hindi actor (by profession) to perform was the stunning Shreya Saran who is the reigning diva of Tamil films and even she had to belly-dance to a Hindi song!

If it was really an 'Indian' film award function, how come all the nominations were only from Hindi films? Do the organisers know anything about the healthy film industry in the east and in the south? I don't suppose they do.

Anyway, the more I see of Kareena Kapoor I am tempted to dub her a one-film wonder. I seem to be the only one who thinks her performance in Jab We Met, while being good, was in no way award-worthy, not over Ash in Guru or even Tabu in Cheeni Kum. But good for her, is all I say.

Kats looks ethereal; guess it speaks volumes for having a healthy sex life, and I am not talking here of the Khan (wink, wink).

The camera, which made it a point to zoom in on Akshay Kumar when Katrina was performing, or even when Priyanka was on, refused to focus on Ash when ex-beau Vivek Oberoi was on the stage. Believe me, I would have paid anything to see her expressionJ

The best of the evening was saved for the last and I am talking of Akshay's typically high-octane finale. Man, what a guy! Like good wine, he just seems to be getting better with age! Mmmmwaaaah.

I overhear these kids in various places talking about their marks and future, and wonder, why do parents drive them so? Can't they be allowed to have a normal childhood? Study, by all means study, but don't ruin your childhood while doing it.

I guess I was lucky to have a revolutionary set of parents. They explained the situation to me and left it to me. It was my life, after all, and while they were concerned about it, they can't study for me. Or do other things.

This was the attitude they brought to other facets of my adolescent life as well. The first experience one has across the spectrum, they knew about it all, but not once did they rebuke or condemn or act outraged. I am sure they must have been upset deep within, but they had the decency to point out that it was my life. If I wanted to spend the rest of it smoking pot and going generally astray, it was up to me. But I will have only one life to eff up, and they can't be blamed for it later.

Words that sobered me up at the right time and make the correct choices. If there's anything I'd like to pass on, it is this legacy.

I have often wondered if anyone can better the combo, though I am told Atria mall in Worli does a neat job of it. But I have not so far been there, have had no reason to go there, so In Orbit and Fame were it for a long time for me.

But I had seen the new mall coming up at the Film City junction with interest, and was quite enamoured when I learnt that PVR Cinemas, which my cineaste friends rate very highly, was to open there.

So, when the Oberoi mall threw open its doors soon after the flyover came up, I decided to visit the mall and the cinema.

The first two weeks, as an inaugural offer, the cinema decided to price the tickets at just Rs 60, and since I had not seen a movie for a long long time, decided to make the most of it. That's how I ended up seeing 4 films within 24 hours, which I had not done in many, many years.

The four were all the ones I wanted to see. Narnia (so-so), Iron Man (wow), Speed Racer (excellent) and Indiana Jones (er, ummmm).

And more than the films, I realised the PVR experience was superior to any I have had so far in Mumbai. The loos (always a rating factor) were world-class, the legroom between rows was incredible, and the last row, Premier I think they call it, was out of the world.

So, naturally, I find myself waiting for PVR's booking to open online, even though I have decent theatres within shouting distance of where I live. If you have not experienced it, I suggest you try it (and no, this is NOT a plug).

The weekend I landed was the first since the IPL mania, and it was also the first time that the reigning superstars of Bollywood were going head to head, on TV albeit.

Regulars here know I am an SRK fan. What they may not know is that I am quite ok with Salman Khan as well, as also the last Khan in the reigning trinity. I am quite hooked on to Paanchvi Paas, and remain in eternal hope that I get called on the show, not to earn money but just to share the stage with the Man.

Now Salman Khan is a phenomenon, nothing short of it. He has been written off so many times, the last time famously after his run-ins on a Bandra pavement in the wee hours, violent breakup with Ash Rai, and for keeping his finger on the redial button to Vivek Oberoi.

He is no great shakes as an actor, is ok in the dancing department, is an epitome of self-love, but despite all that he rocks the box office. I have wondered, analysed this and have no plausible answer as to why, so I've decided to let myself be entertained by him.

On TV last weekend, thankfully, there was no tough choice to be made since Sony TV wisely slotted Salman's new show when SRK's ends. So I sat down to watch the man who could have been the badshah if only he had not turned down Baazigar, and these are my brief observations on his new show.

If the show becomes a hit, then I am willing to bet that the money will be the draw, not Salman. This is not to take away from his appeal, X factor, stardom, whatever, but the thought of Rs 10 crore, and the thought of not having to parade one's ignorance in order to earn it, will leave people salivating. Personally, I will have no qualms about appearing on the show, if only I knew how!

So how does this Khan rank as a host? I know comparisons at odious, but in this case I am forced to indulge in it in order to prove my point. I find that Salman doesn't exude the warmth necessary towards the participants. Like, this girl landed up exclaiming 'Salman, I love you!' And the star treated it just one of those professional hazards he is subject to day in and day out.

Perhaps he is, but I felt he could have handled it with more warmth than he displayed towards the girl. A la SRK, when faced with a similar situation with a young girl losing it in his presence.

But otherwise, I like Salman's effort at humanising himself. He is not high visibility like SRK and others, and most know him only through the media reports that come out, and we all know they are not always flattering. So this show goes a long way in presenting him as a person.

But what's in it for you if you are not a Salman fan dying to see him? In that case, there's always the money, honey! Rs 10 crore of it!

Randier than a sailor, who's been six months at sea.
Never let a cricketer's hand an inch above your knee.

First let's take the Paceman, pure speed from first to last.
My darlings do be careful, his balls are hard and fast.

Then there's the Medium Pacer, his balls swing either way.
He's really most persistent and can keep it up all day.

Watch out for the Off-spinner, girls, another awkward chap.
If you leave him half an opening, he will slip one through the gap.

Then there's the wiley 'slowy', pure cunning is his strength,
He'll tempt you, then he'll trap you with his very subtle length.

So ladies, do be careful---your mothers would agree.
Never trust a cricketer----whoever he may be.

And what about the Opening bat, his struggles never cease,
He has just one ambition, to spend all day at the 'crease'.

The number Three is a dasher, he seldom prods and pokes,
When he goes into action, he has a fine array of strokes.

And do beware the Slogger, not content with one or two,
When he opens up for action, then only six will do.

Then there's the real stonewaller, girls, he knows what he's about,
and if you let him settle in, it's hard to get him out.

We come now to the last man, be ready for a shock,
He doesn't mind if he's last man in -as long as he gets a knock.

So, darlings, do be careful-and be well warned by me,
Never trust a cricketer- whoever he may be.

And watch the wicket keeper, girls; he's full of flair and dash,
And if you raise your heels, he'll whip'em off in a flash.

If you take the field with the captain, you had better know the score
or he'll have you in positions that you never knew before.

The cricket commentator- is a nosey sort of bloke,
He watches all the action and describes it stroke by stroke.

Even the kindly umpire-may look friendly as a pup,
You'll quickly find you've had it, when he puts his finger up.

So, darlings please remember, repeat it after me,
!!!!NEVER TRUST A CRICKETER-WHOEVER HE MAY BE!!!!

The more beautiful/successful they are, the more vulnerable they seem to be on this front. It's puzzled me for years, the reason why women marry toads.

On the contrary, men's reasons for marriage never puzzle/interest me. I think they seldom make the decision after considering the pros and cons like a woman does. They marry because they are told to. Either by their parents, family, or girl friend.

Among the mismatched couples one has seen, read about, come across, none intrigued more than Malaika Arora-Arbaaz Khan. I mean, even a vegetable can make out Arbaaz had nothing to recommend him in life neither looks nor career to speak of. If there was a loser's association, I would expect him to be lifetime president. If you remove bhai Salman Khan from his life, there's nothing left to him.

So why did someone like Malaika marry him? Ah, why do women marry the men they do!

My first exposure to Malaika was thanks to MTV's late night adult chat show, Love Guru or some such she hosted with Cyrus Broacha. Don't get me wrong, but I couldn't get my eyes off her. I don't think anything she's done since not her item songs, other TV appearances, nothing comes close to that show. I both envied and pitied Cyrus. Envy for the proximity; pity for, well, the ordeal he must have been undergoing trying to look, ahem, normal.

If I was a male, and there was this scantily-clad Malaika next to me for a couple of hours, and 10 years ago when both us were that much younger, believe you me, I would find it impossible to do what Cyrus managed so well.

Naturally one was dismayed to know that she was happily married. But not so happily, was revealed obliquely a few seasons ago on Koffee with Karan. In the episode in which she appeared along with her sister Amrita, KJo asked her what advice she would give her younger sibling on marriage.

Malaika's words rang out loud and clear: Marry only if you want to have children, darling.

So that was the reason she married Arbaaz, to give her child a patronymic, I thought to myself, and this morning's reports confirmed what I then suspected.

Can a glamorous, successful woman like Malaika remain married for too long? No, I think. But surprisingly, the person who's talking of a remarriage here is not her but her husband!

Well, as I said, I've always wondered about the reasons women marry, and you bet I will be doubly wondrous is Arbaaz marries the second time!

So these last few days have been busy organizing some of them.

Precisely, managed to get a reflexologist to come by once a week for some orgasmic foot massage. Now I know that the feet are extra-sensory; they also harbour a large number of nerve endings. But I never thought much of getting them pressed and coaxed, ever. And after having my own person press the buttons, so to speak, I look back on this desideratum as one of the worst in my life. But I've sworn to make amends, every week, till my bank balance can take it.

Another addition is related, a personal masseuse coming in. I realise I can get the same service in a spa or a health clinic (I've blogged about this before), but there's nothing like getting it in the comforts and confines of one's own bedroom, is there? Also, strangely I find such service rendered at home costs less than what it does if I were to go out and get it done in, say, an Ayush. Wonder why?

I've always believed in spreading the cheer and joy around. So if any of you are from Mumbai and are interested in getting the same services, feel free to drop a mail at janusjanus@rediffmail.com with your coordinates and I will pass on the coordinates.

But let's leave such heavy stuff for the commentators and get down to what comes naturally to one. Which is to be flippant and fancy-free!

Like, I realise on my return that little has changed. In the newspaper headlines, all that has changed are the names of the dramatis personae, the events remain the same. Rape, murder, grand theft, political skullduggery. Nothing is new. And on Page 3 I find that even the names have not changed, the same old tired faces continue their masquerade and we the people have no choice but to read about their shenanigans before the cameras. Sigh. It was not like this in the heights I scaled this last few weeks.

Anyway, the one good thing since the return was that I can now count myself as one of the early tasters of this season's Alphons mangoes. It costs a bomb this early, the prices should fall by mid-April, but we reasoned that it was a treat that we shouldn't deny ourselves. The mangoes are all that they are reputed to be, and although my personal preference is for the variety from Telugu-land, this was one time I decided to bury my bias and bury my teeth instead into the succulent king of mangoes.

Yummmm.. I can still feel the fruit on my tongue, and with a long weekend coming up it's a warm thought that there's still a box of Alphons left at home.

It should be quite fun, what with the Super Tuesdays happening next week and the country slowly getting into the throes of presidential elections. Not that I know much about it, nor am I going to be involved in the process in any way, but still it would be nice to be there when so much activity is going on.

I will be out of action for a couple of months almost, don't expect me to blog since I will be moving out to the West Coast, looking for some meaning to life. Away from it all.

Catch ya'll when I get back. Till then, as the saying goes, Be good. If you can't, at least be careful!

There's a God and s/he's listening. Is your prayer loud enough?

As for me, been there done that sums up my experience with Novena. I am, naturally, a believer, a firm one at that.

But what I like more than the prayer etc is Mahim church's attempt at spreading the good word on its board outside, which I look for everyday as I drive past. Nuggets of wisdom, they somehow seem to sense my prevailing mood and offer a word or two, usually more, of solace.

Like this week I saw to the effect: 'He who is afraid to die is too scared to live.' This is the week that I go chasing after life.

The other week it was: 'The road to a friend's home is never long.' That was the week when a friend was stopping by in Mumbai. Natch.

And so it's been for many weeks now. So much so that every time I pass the church I look out for its advice for the world-weary and feel a thrill on spotting a new one.