Every year on the 31 December, what you hear a lot is “resolutions”. If you ask me, well, mine is 2.75 megapixel. Yes, thats the closest to a resolution I have ever been. Except once.
Once, couple of years ago, when I was still a young stork, I decided to give my relationship with Salman Khan a serious chance. At that time I genuinely believed that if I approached him and held a very serious man to (wo)man talk with him and explained to him how it made perfect sense for him to marry me, he would have no choice but to agree.
My case was solid. I knew where he lived. He was rich, I was intelligent. He was single, I was almost. He was being rejected time and again by beautiful women, and I was an answer to all those beauties, who wouldn’t match my brains. He was short, I was shorter. And finally the deal maker - He was Khan, I was Ms Khan. Where do we sign now?
However, there was only one problem. How do I get to speak to him? Well, the plan was simple. I, along with my two other girl friends would go to Salman’s Bandra apartment. And in the middle of the night, we would start singing. All Salman Khan songs. Starting with “Oonchi hai building.. lift teri band hai”. And if you have heard us sing, we sound worse than Anu Malik. Poor Salman would eventually give in and come wave at us from his balcony. Thats when I would throw keywords at him. He would get the hint and call me in for a chat. The next we know, we would be in Ibiza getting “papped”.
All of this was worked out in extreme detail. Nothing in this could fail. The date was set, the team ready and I even got my manicure, just in case there is a ring involved. But then, poof! came my future husband’s “expression of interest” on shaadi.com.
I had to choose between finding a perfect wife for Salman, or a perfect husband for myself. Ofcourse I chose the latter. I chose to go for a Coffee with my Mr K rather than a “Koffee with Karan”. Plus there were those rumours of him dating certain other Ms K. I can take everything, but not infidelity. Huh.
Once, couple of years ago, when I was still a young stork, I decided to give my relationship with Salman Khan a serious chance. At that time I genuinely believed that if I approached him and held a very serious man to (wo)man talk with him and explained to him how it made perfect sense for him to marry me, he would have no choice but to agree.
My case was solid. I knew where he lived. He was rich, I was intelligent. He was single, I was almost. He was being rejected time and again by beautiful women, and I was an answer to all those beauties, who wouldn’t match my brains. He was short, I was shorter. And finally the deal maker - He was Khan, I was Ms Khan. Where do we sign now?
However, there was only one problem. How do I get to speak to him? Well, the plan was simple. I, along with my two other girl friends would go to Salman’s Bandra apartment. And in the middle of the night, we would start singing. All Salman Khan songs. Starting with “Oonchi hai building.. lift teri band hai”. And if you have heard us sing, we sound worse than Anu Malik. Poor Salman would eventually give in and come wave at us from his balcony. Thats when I would throw keywords at him. He would get the hint and call me in for a chat. The next we know, we would be in Ibiza getting “papped”.
All of this was worked out in extreme detail. Nothing in this could fail. The date was set, the team ready and I even got my manicure, just in case there is a ring involved. But then, poof! came my future husband’s “expression of interest” on shaadi.com.
I had to choose between finding a perfect wife for Salman, or a perfect husband for myself. Ofcourse I chose the latter. I chose to go for a Coffee with my Mr K rather than a “Koffee with Karan”. Plus there were those rumours of him dating certain other Ms K. I can take everything, but not infidelity. Huh.
2 comments:
Hahahaha!! That's some level of detailed planning!
Happy New Year Sana, and good luck with the Blogathon.
damn..so it was Salman whom i was competing against :P
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