High Life Low Life

Raid Raj is here, and the hectic, frenetic activity of the yellow-livered vermin who dare not fight in the market place but take pot shots, hidden behind their political patron8217;s dhoti is but obvious. Fail they must or God save us. I feel a sense of deja vu as the same vile gang of hyenas are baying again. This time they must pay, with theirrabid fur.

On to other distractions that lifted some of the gloom in the past few weeks. The joie de vivre of a night of revelry at the Fashion Bistro gets top billing. Chhaya and Nirmal Momaya have a fine eatery where Chhaya organised an impromptu dinner for us after the fashion show. The bar, which is cozy, therefore packed to sardine can proportions, was the venue of a show of men8217;s fashion choreographed by Achla Sachdev. If memory serves me right the designers were Rocky S, Rohit Gandhi, Akki, Raju and Chandrajit.

I was escorted by Krish, my son, who rather enjoyed both the show and the exposure to Indian fashion. The Graviera Mr International, Mario Carballo, was at the show with ace choreographer, fashion designer Hemant Trevedi. It was a refreshing change to have in our midst a personage like Mario, who was low key, humble and warm despite the adulation and hype that goes with a title. He loved India, probably the Portuguese blood in him had something to do with it, and was quite eager to come backto our native shores soon.

The Bistro after the show was a gigantic explosion of humanity 8212; people, people everywhere. The bartenders were Lascelles Symons, Bunty and Tarun.

There was a proud gaggle of girl power exhibited by models Helen Brodie, Nina Manuel, Lisa Ray, Svetlana, Ujwala and Jaesse. I hung in there with Rocky, Sanjeev, Chhaya, Kishen, Achla, Tanaz Currim and Krish, trying to get our voices up to decibels that guaranteed laryngitis the next day.

The Fashion Bistro is young and popular and having been there on a happening night8217; makes me class it way up there for a night on the town. The midnight shut-down and chairs shorn of their original male-female torso8217;s does dampen spirits, no thanks to the city8217;s tough culture vulture laws. Even Singapore, which normally has draconian legislation, is very cool when it comes to dollars earned through tourism and turns the proverbial Nelson eye to even risque, burlesque entertainment so as to bring in the bucks. Why then are we so holier thanthou8217; when in the midst of a real recession? I guess only God can answer that one.

Another memorable evening was one hosted by Crossword, the bookshop. They had shortlisted five Indian authors for the Crossword prize, a purse of two lakh of rupees. When I got there, it was nearly eight and the reading had begun. I greeted Farzana and Behram Contractor, Suzie and Dipak Mirchandani, Gerson Dacunha, Gita Piramal and a host of the literati before quietly hiding behind the bookshelves for a chinwag with Frank Simoes.

I so enjoyed my little tete-a-tete with Frank, except for the fact that we had a voyeur who despite our best efforts to nudge him off our table sat there like a fossilised dinosaur. We finally moved when the book prize was announced, I Allan Sealy8217;s The Everest Hotel deservedly won. Having read the book, I was thrilled by the choice as it had my personal vote, even for the prestigious Booker. Crisp and evocative, it has powerful prose and burst at the seam narration.

His love affair with nature,descriptive yet subdued, makes you long for the outdoor with a passion. The media was well represented and there was a distinct bonhomie, which is sadly lacking at a certain level of the fraternity. Give me a social wanna, wanna, wannabe any day to the media claptrap dished out by an apple-pie face that is broader than the Straits of Malacca. A born-again feminist with a leaning to close encounters of the third kind, an axed show. Different strokes for different folks! To me it8217;s media social climbing at its peripatetic worst.

When indulgence and good taste bring together an informal yet chic group of ladies, the hostess definitely has a Touch of Class and more. Last week Poonam Bhagat hosted a charming Dom Perignon tea/cocktail at her elegant family home in Pali Hill. There was scones and clotted cream, salmon and caviar, asparagus mousse and other delectable vegetarian canapes 8212; all artfully displayed in pipal baskets banded with white roses, handmade by our ingenious hostess. I was so enamoured by thebaskets that Poonam quietly put one in the car for me as a going away present.

I love my basket so! It has pride of place on my terrace and is a gentle reminder of how creativity can be explored if you set your mind to it. The ladies I had a chance to exchange pleasantries with were soul sister8217; Czaee Shah, who sacrificed an Art launch to catch up with the sisterhood, Arti Surendranath, Neena Gupta, Rasna Talati, Tayunaz Merchant, Tanya Godrej, Kaajal Anand, Vanita Bhandari, Tina Tahiliani and Anu Nanavati. The warm ambience of the soiree ensured that we all overstayed. Rajni Bhagat, the charming, warm, elegant mother of Poonam and Sheetal, is an inspiration.

I can say with authority that with the Bhagat8217;s it runs in the genes, from mother to lovely daughters. Three cheers to their hospitality, ingenuity and taste.

The morbid humdrum of gloom raids, encounter deaths and extortion threats can only be countered by a vigorous activist approach by our citizenry. Till then the rainbow of life will seem aselusive as our dogged hope to survive.