Ok so here’s the deal.In my next life not only will I be a football star of Beckham like proportions (except in the voice and package departments), a famous moopersodel, and president of the world (the moopersodel and El Preseidentè can be two different lives if need be), I also want a life set aside for being a Bollywood starlet.
A real coy, eye fluttering, saronged diva of the mildly sexual screen who could have her pick of all the dancing boys. It didn’t matter that spontaneous dance sequences happened for no apparent reason, or that the films always ended with good things happening to the good guys and you-know-what to the baddies, because in a time when people were all too busy picking each other to death, it would be nice to be surrounded by such unadulterated purity.
I can see me now; top billing for ‘The sound of Punjab’, ‘My big skinny Deli wedding’, and ‘You can’t stop the Sitar.’
Ms birdy-for-your-num-nums M.
