Of models and mortals....

Dear Reader(s)

Hola! we have been apart for almost a day and already I have neared a few breakdowns in your absence. I have just been thinking about our next conversation. So here I am, bubbling and exploding with excitement with words ready to spill out in a hurried rush of almost incoherent typing.

The weekend came and the weekend went and all i could do was get in a few hours of sleep. The task at hand: a shoot for a very popular news channel. What sort of shoot you say? A programme on food and restaurants. Now I know what you all are thinking! The web is filled with enough people cribbing about their life/work/love etc and there really isn't the need for one more aka yours truly.

But come on give me some credit....i would never stoop to such emotional lows, maybe i would but heck knows!! This is about as the title suggests of 'models and mortals'....

The celeb lined up for the shoot (thanks to my oh so very fabulous boss) was a model/DJ (Now don't roll your eyes people) Ok I did roll my eyes too, I mean the last thing I wanted was to spend my Sunday catering to the whims and fancies of a model! Aren't intellectual freaks like me supposed to look down upon such creatures in all their vain glory (Vanity is a virtue best shown of subtly, sort of like I do)

So there I was loitering around the snazzy lobby with its hanging metal chandeliers (reminiscent of 70's gentleman's club) waiting for my 'celebrity' to land up at the hotel, while the TV anchor was busy touching her makeup (not like she needed more paint on her face).

But my wait was over in a while the car pulled into the lobby and out popped the 'model'. at first glance everything looked in place. Snazzy jeans(skinny fit of course), snazzier shirt and of course the chunky belt with what i must admit looked very chic converse trainers (they are almost a fetish with me you see).

A quick hello later he was off for his meal with the anchor and I entrained myself with the antics of the PR manager and her sons (the eldest of whom for some strange reason refuse to call her mum and refers her to by her first name, very strange for my Indian sensibilities, can't help its in our blood!) but soon enough I was bored of watching this perennial struggle and thank god the shoot was over and now the dreaded moment had arrived....make chit chat with the 'model'! Yikes!!!!!

But surprise surprise I thought I would encounter a narcissistic hedonist with a 'pop' hangover, yet what I came across was a down to earth, friendly fellow with an almost shockingly Innocent appeal to his eyes. And as he went on about his numerous ventures I couldn't help but think that her was this boy in a strange town trying his best to make a mark in a world that really doesn't give a crap about one's ambitions or ideas, its all rather about how good you look in that CK brief....

And i just though to myself.... us normal folks ( and i use the term normal very loosely, as far as I am concerned) watch these creatures with their toned bodies and bronzed skins in numerous intricate poses on the ramps, magazines covers, and parties and think just how different 'they' are from 'us'. We assume they live in a vacuum, where the parties never end and the life is as glitzy as those Valentino outfits. But in reality they couldn't be any more like us...

Our ambitions, dreams, aims, aspirations are so strikingly similar that it can surprise even the most cynical critics out there. But I think its harder for them....we are the ones with the upper hand, we are the ones who have the benefit of experimenting with education and careers....whereas the so called vacuum they live in limits them....limits them in so many ways that I actually don't know how to put it into words here.....

So I guess when it comes to 'models' and 'mortals' the advantage really lies with none...we all after all have no clue what we are doing...

Bon soir