Journo Jaunts
By Pedro Naik
These celebrity bashes are tiresome. But after you’ve finished clicking the toothpaste-ad snaps and dutifully noted the celebs’ inane remarks, there’s a flow of free food and booze. And if you can get enough of the latter flowing down your gullet, you can survive anything. The joys of being a journo: ink and booze galore!
Anyway, at one of these dos, I headed for a corner table where a heavily begoggled lady was drinking steadily, parked myself on a chair, and followed her excellent example. Peering at her in the dim light, I recognised Neha Chupayya. Time to get a minor-celeb interview and pay my household bills. And in Goa, when chatting with celebs, minor or otherwise, there’s only one topic. “Could you tell me more about your home in Goa, loved your interview about your second home here,” I began. Much to my surprise, she burst into tears. “Bloody over-rated con the whole thing,” she snarled.
“But you said in an earlier interview how you loved your beachside house.” She continued to sniffle into her scented hanky. “One has to say these things, sponsors and all that. But yesterday on my way to the beach, I was cursed by goonish security guards. After I navigated through the garbage, I stepped in a pile of dog poo. And then came the worst moment.” I waited with bated breath for the denouement. “Despite wearing my teeniest bikini, nobody looked at me. They were all ogling some Ukrainian tourists,” and bursting into a fresh round of tears, she subsided into her second hanky of the evening.
No story there, but I was determined to follow the matter, what with the comperes at IFFI functions babbling more about celebrity second homes in Goa than films, making this a must-write story. So off to Moira, the Beverly Hills of the brave new Goa. Rajesh Bar was its cosy self, and there was Uncle Augie in his usual corner. “Hi, Uncle, how’s things,” I said as I took my first sip of life-giving feni. To my horror, he too burst into tears. “Things are going totally down the drain here,” he sobbed into his feni. “I’m going to leave Moira.”
“But this is the most desired celeb village,” I objected. “Aw, forget it,” he said, “what shelebs-welebs? We’ve only got that minor Bollywood bimbo Melina Lately, and she’s hiring all kinds of perverts on her staff. As if things were not bad enough! For some time now, we have a Bollywood hack-diva who delivers sermons on saving Goa at the drop of a false eyelash, and a yellow journalist turned corporate shill who tells us how being Goan is all about eating faux Goan junk and getting drunk on feni. I’m out of here,” he concluded firmly.
And so was I – the vale of tears that good ole Rajesh Bar had become was too much for me to handle. As I started my scooter, I got a massive thump on the back. Turning around, I gaped into the grinning visage of a gorilla bedecked in enough gold to have met India’s bullion purchase requirements without bothering to go to the IMF. “What men, Pedro, it’s Jojo,” this ape beamed at me. “Jojo!?” I looked carefully, and sure enough, under all the gold and the new layers of fat was a familiar face, last seen about 2 years ago, adorning one of Moira’s world-renowned gutters. “Hey man, what’s up?” I queried, bemused by the transformation from a scrawny alcoholic layabout to this vision from a Bollywood gangster movie.
“I’ve discovered the celeb property market,” he chortled, “and it’s hot, baby! I’ve sold houses to every Bollywood wannabe star around, and business has never been better.” I was all ears. “I’ve got the whole package together. Old ‘Portuguese’ houses, an architect who leads morchas to save Goa by day and cuts hills by night, so no questions asked, and all permissions fixed. Yeah, men, some time ago I netted a real A-1 client – Akshay baba, who wanted a birthday present for wife Twinkle.”
“That’s great. And they’re happy?” I asked. “What do you think I am, a marriage counsellor?” he responded. “About the house, they’re thrilled, except that Twinkie dear wants to buy the beach too. Given the legal problems, Akki Baba in true khiladi style has decided to purchase the entire government and fix things. Negotiations are at an advanced stage and the deal should be sealed soon. Nothing’s too good for Twinkle. Devoted husband,” Jojo nodded wisely.
Then he leaned over and whispered, “But that’s nothing. I’m now on the verge of netting the biggest one of them all. The Big B! He wants to buy an entire village…” As Jojo prattled on, I drove off. Curse be on the celebs! If only they would stop buying second homes in Goa, maybe I could afford to buy my first one…
