The Pitt Diaries

October 3

8220;They are here8212;a chopper has landed at the builder8217;s farm house.8221; A one line SMS with more impact that an earthquake scoring 8 on the Richter scale. I rush out screaming8212;they8217;re here, they8217;re here. The Martians would have developed an inferiority complex. I log myself out of an inconsequential story on the possibility of a tornado hitting the city and rush out.

Half an hour later there are a dozen of us standing outside Avinash Bhosale8217;s bungalow. I dial his number. The man picks up and says he is in Dubai and there is no Angelina or Pitt at his premises. Prove it, we say. Driven by purpose, I steer into Abeey8217;s Palace. We scour the gardens and the premises. We even look behind the bushes. No Angelina or Pitt or even little Maddox.

I come out and declare my findings to the newly constituted Indian Paparazzi outside. Note: Though the Indian paparazzi was conceived exactly nine months ago in Panchgani in January this year when Aamir Khan wed lady love Kiran Rao, when a depressed looking lot called the paparazzi emerged that would reconcile itself to standing outside hotels for hours and getting mauled by security guards, we still have a long way to go. We are clearly not equipped to chase an internationally A-list couple like Angelina and Brad. We disburse reluctantly, but amicably.

October 4 morning

We8217;ve discovered the house they are going to shoot at. It8217;s the singularly most significant discovery since Columbus found America. I drive past it seven times. On the eighth round the security guard tells me that media is not allowed here. 8220;How can you say I am from the media,8221; I counter belligerently. 8220;From the sticker on your car that says Press,8221; he smiles. The cover blown, another colleague is asked to venture inside. She does, only to be stopped in the garden by a stern looking white lady. 8220;How did you get in?8221; asks an ice-cold voice. 8220;Well the gate was open so I just walked in,8221; replies colleague cheerily. 8220;Okay so I will just open it again and you could walk out the same way,8221; comes the acidic response. Politeness is obviously not the crew8217;s strong point.

October 4 midnight

My husband wakes me up. I have been shouting in my sleep, 8220;There8217;s Brad8212; got to get him8221;. It has him worried. 8220;I thought we had a good marriage,8221; he says. 8220;Do you think these two will have a good marriage if they tie the knot?8221; I reply.

October 5

They8217;re here, they8217;re here, they8217;re here! This time two most reliable sources have confirmed the news. The jet is landing any minute. All our photographers abandon office to rush to the airport. Damn. What happened was they came and they went without anyone spotting them. All we could photograph were their entourage of vehicles8212;a silver Mercedes Benz, a white Toyota whizzing off in pouring rain. Unseasonal rain at that. Could the couple, who stage all their appearances and demand huge sums of money to give out pictures of themselves to a media publication, have managed to stage even the weather?

Nevertheless our intrepid team chases them and waits for them with the rest of the paparazzi at the hotel entrance. They in turn, go down to the basement and straight up to their fifth floor suites. Aw, c8217;mon guys, not fair. Even Shah Rukh Khan doesn8217;t do this.

October 6

I wake up with the phone8217;s ring at 7 a.m. 8220;What8217;s the plan for today?8221; the higher-ups want to know. 8220;Three photographers at the hotel, one covering the entrance, another covering the main exit, one going around the hotel. Fourth posted at location in case the couple decides to go there. One reporter at the hotel, one at location-both to be relieved by two other reporters after eight hours. Vigil on 24/7,8221; I report. The General has not slept all night, chalking out the battle plan.

The lobby of Le Meridien resembles an airport lounge. The sofas are full as with the international paparazzi having spread themselves all over.

There are rumours-a-minute. They are going to shift out to a farm house today. They8217;ve already left the hotel. They are going to go to Lonavala. They may fly off to Tibet to baptize the baby. Everyone is asking everyone8212;So what8217;s the latest you8217;ve heard?

It8217;s late afternoon. Photographer/sleuth No 3 moves from exit to a spot from where a portion of the basement can be seen. The brilliant move is rewarded. He can see them moving towards their car8212;the rest is history.

A special meet is held in the office in the evening where a computer screen proudly displays the picture of an umbrella with Jolie8217;s chin peering out. In the backdrop are Pitts sidelocks attached to some part of his face. But for us8212;the star-starved sleuths8212;it8217;s enough. The photographer is the hero of the day.

It even mitigates the pain felt on realising that while the paparazzi chased the tinted glass Merc, the star couple made off later in an autorickshaw for a spin of the city. As usual, undetected. C8217;mon guys, even Richard Gere doesn8217;t do that!

October 7

I am waiting outside the psychiatrist8217;s office. My colleagues insisted I come and see him ever since they8217;ve noticed my coming to office through the backdoor, sneaking in half an hour early everyday to avoid security and then proceeding to work for the rest of the day, hidden behind a chair.

Half the city is down with the virus. It8217;s called Brangelitis. The symptoms are obvious8212;it starts with a catch in the throat. At least that8217;s what Sam Relph, the Brit journalist who was almost throttled by Angelina8217;s bodyguard the other day when he tried to take some pictures, told me. No pics of the couple today also, but enough shots of Mike showing Relph that he has A Mighty Haath.

October 8

I am sitting at the hotel lobby where else? deep in thought. I have rarely done such hugely satisfying writing of national importance as I8217;ve managed since the Jolly Holly circus came to town. Like the 800 words report on the Brangelina couple ordering chicken tikka and biryani for lunch and an in-depth analytical piece on why they took Maddox and not the two baby girls for the autorickshaw spin. A whiff of discrimination, is what I hinted at here.

My real breakthrough came when one of the hotel sources called me aside and told me that Angelina had changed the colour of her nail polish from light to dark pink that very morning8212;it was 100 per cent confirmed news. Clearly it was a move to cement the Indo-US ties given India8217;s rich tradition of sporting bright colours. I modestly credited my years of training in this field as a hard-as-nails-no-nonsense journalist for immediately cottoning on to the international implications of this subtle, yet strategic move.

My profound thoughts are interrupted by a commotion that would make Kumbh mela look like an organised affair. Can8217;t believe it. It8217;s them! And in an autorickshaw once again! Finally we had them. Or they had us? Whatever!

October 9

We have given up vigil at the hotel. The shooting has started and so we have shifted vigil to the Sindh Colony house. The security however, is very tight. A colleague manages to sneak inside a home 50 yards away.

October 10

I am listening to the radio. The interview of the rick driver who had ferried Jolie, Pitt and Maddox is on. The RJ is breathless as she asks Balashab Lonkar if she can see the Rs 50 note the stars gave him as fare. 8220;Don8217;t have it. I filled petrol with it,8221; says Lonkar. 8220;Whaaaaat? You gave away the note to a petrol pump attendant?8221; gasps the interviewer. 8220;Phir? ,8221; replies Lonkar calmly 8220;What else was I supposed to do with it?8221; He gets my vote as the only sane person left in town.

October 11

The numbers outside the hotel and house have dwindled. We have started writing again on road condition and photographers have started looking at the assignment register. Once a day though a cameraman still breezes past the two locations and someone from the office will invariably ask, 8220;So what8217;s the latest on Brangelina?8221; To which our reply is a nonchalant, 8220;Oh come on, there are more important things to do . And let8217;s give the poor guys their privacy, shall we?8221;

The obsession is over. I have taken leave and tonight am going to relax at home with a yummy paparazzi pizza. Er8230;I mean Pepperoni of course.