Star-crossed paths

There are moments when the universe conspires to bring you a magical surprise. There I was, battling an obstinate cough and cold — lunching at Ming Yang, when who should appear at the next table but the incredibly charming Bollywood actor Imran Khan, dining with my talented friend, the artistic Lekha Washington. What a delightful surprise!

I’ve always adored Imran — not just for his endearing performances in Gori Tere Pyar Mein and Mere Brother Ki Dulhan, but for that rare genuine warmth he radiates both on and off screen. After his unexpected retreat from the limelight following his marital challenges, I’d often thought of reaching out with a “We miss you! This too shall pass” (I know about life’s rapids).

And there he was, looking even more fabulous than when we last shared the stage at the Cosmopolitan Beauty Awards. My persistent cough momentarily forgot its mission at the sight of his infectious smile. Bollywood, are you listening? We need this fabulous star back on our screens, and soon!

Socialite soirée

At Palladium Mall, acclaimed director Tanuj Garg (of Do Aur Do Pyar and Tumhari Sulu fame) orchestrated an intimate gathering with shoe brand Ecco, bringing together an eclectic mix of influencers, film personalities, and what Mumbai calls its ‘socialites’. The evening sparked an intriguing debate about that very term — ‘socialite’. Is it a badge of honor or a subtle slight? My take? When you’re dealing with accomplished professionals and genuine achievers, why diminish their contributions with a label that speaks only to their social calendar? Some words, like yesterday’s fashion, are better left in the past, what say?

Miss Malini, Neeta Lulla, Deepshikha Deshmukh, Ramona Arena, Atul Kasbekar and actor Krystle Dsouza added the glam quotient to the champagne soirée.

Nostalgic dinners

My journey in journalism began under the nurturing guidance of giants — Khalid Ansari, Ayaz Memon, and Aakar Patel. They were more than editors; they were mentors who shaped my voice during my earliest twenties — colourful days of writing Mid-Day’s centre spread. So when Khalid extends an invitation, my heart doesn’t want to go any place else!

This week brought double the joy — first at his residence, then at Dr. Altaf and Devika Patel’s intimate hillside home. Both evenings were pure Old Bombay magic — the kind of Bombay I fell in love with — where cricketers trade tales with writers, and theatre veterans share laughs with authors. Ravi Shastri was looking as dashing as ever!

Despite my persistent cough playing villain, I dressed up and showed up. Because here’s what I believe — sometimes the best medicine is putting on your finest, stepping out, and letting life’s energy work its magic. The show, after all, must go on! And friends! these columns won’t write themselves, will they? After all, isn’t that what Mumbai teaches us? That beneath the glitter and glamour, it’s the authentic connections, the genuine moments, and the courage to keep showing up that really matter. Even when your throat feels like sandpaper and your nose refuses to cooperate!