Beteeen gorging films, here are the firsts of the festive season:
Spotted my first mini-skirt yesterday (though it was on a middle-aged woman who forgot to match the skirt with the shoes, or the personality... I wonder why the girls who normally love showing off in mini-skirts, feel that they must appear at film festivals wearing jhabbas and jholas? Is it their way of conceding that clothes define the bimbo?)
Spotted the first girl for whom the short kurta was created… (slender torso, lines that show well under the darkest salwar, full enough to suggest the existence of curves. Would give a lot for those legs...)
Spotted the first Indian woman dressed like an African – complete with turban and all.
Spotted the first so-in-love couple. (They looked too happy to be watching the sufferings of post-Khmer Cambodia. Send them away, please.)
Saw the first good gay-protagonist-film (The Iron Ladies).
Spotted the first Bombay girl deliberately dressed down and covered up, (because she was in big, bad, unsafe Delhi, who felt really stupid, because now she notices all these bare-dare girls trooping in, wearing halter tops and tubes.)
Sat through the first day of non-air-conditioned theatres (the electricity was missing).
Saw the first really modest filmmaker who refused to talk about the film or himself, after he’d been given his claps, post-screening. (These Asian men do know how to bow - without looking ridiculous or self-conscious... completely solemn and completely respectful)
The first really curious audience that couldn’t stop asking questions.
The first really intelligent question (About colour-coding different parts of the film, also representing periods of history)
Heard my first pick-up line (‘Can I look at your brochure?’ Puh-leez! And these are the creative men of our country!?)
Walked into the media centre, and, for the first time, found an unoccupied computer! (heh!)