Sunday, November 27, 2011

So the brat spoke to Darsheel Safary

Ever since he saw Taare Zameen Par, the brat has been a Darsheel Safary fan. And how. A total high speed rotating PSP fan. This was further cemented when he recently saw Zokkomon and spent all his evenings wearing red full sleeved teeshirts with red track pants, tying on my yellow apron as a cape, and cutting up black pieces of plastic board meant to line the laundry basket into eye masks of the Zokkomon version.
Ergo, it wasn't far off when he finally socked me the question, "I wantu meet DarsheelSafary."
I shrugged my shoulders, like I always do when such preposterous requests are placed before me and proceeded to ignore said request completely.
It was repeated the next day and more volubly.
I ignored it again. The third day, he metaphorically sat on my head and wore me down into at least saying I'd try to get him to meet Darsheel Safary. I wish I had a parent who would agree to try to get me to meet George Clooney, but that's another post and not in consonance with the kiddy blog so won't go there now.
In my misery, I tweeted asking for help to get the brat a meeting with Zokkomon boy. And a kind soul from twitter promised to get the brat to speak with Zokkomon. And no, I'm not going to name that person, but let it be known that said person rocks.
So it happened, that one gentle evening, when the sun hung over the horizon like a ball of orange, the phone rang with private number flashing on screen. I answered the call. From the office of Darsheel Safary said a kindly, maternal voice. I handed the instrument to the brat and asked him to speak. Darsheel was on the line. His jaw clanged to the floor. It took him a moment to push it back into position. And he said a soft hello. And said jaw dropped right to the floor again. No words came from his mouth except, "What are you doing?" which is his standard telephone line across all conversations. The conversation lasted all of 30 seconds. It must have been Darsheel carrying on a one sided conversation since the only other words that came from brat's mouth were, "Okay, bye." And he handed the phone back to me, his eyes shining with excitement. "Darsheel Safary spoke tu me!"
"He callt me up."
"I'm his fren" By the time the next morning arrived, this had morphed to becoming "Darsheel Safary's besfren on phone."
By the time he went down to the park in the evening, it had further morphed to long hour long conversations he was having everyday with said child star which I was quick to gently dissuade.
So now, the brat wants to be signed up at Shiamak Davar's to become a movie star. And I have to ask Aamir Khan if he's making another movie and needs another boy to act. The maternal line will be firmly drawn at the second request. Our kahaani is already poori filmy to begin with.

2 comments:

  1. Kakali11:07 AM

    " I wish I had a parent who would agree to try to get me to meet George Clooney" - you are the most hilarious writer..love your brat & your writing.

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