Good Evening you gracious people. I, Simi Garewal, invite you to spend some enchanting moments with me over tea. Care for some muffins along with it?
As I delicately stir the finest Darjeeling, I request you to not confuse me with my namesake organization SIMI (Students Islamic Movement of India) who go about bombing the suburban Mumbai trains, as my pristine self could have nothing to do with such loser lowlife. In fact I didn’t even know what local trains were till I read my name on the front page ‘SIMI bombs Mulund Local’
It was a headline that made me clutch at my throat, engorge my eyeballs, and protractedly gasp in a highly audible fashion. A set of gestures you would have thought to ordinarily exist only in romantic novels of the 18th century. But no, I render these pretty often in my chat show Rendevous with Simi Garewal
While I clarify my complete dissociation with SIMI, let me tell you who I actually am. I am but a failed actress (because, let’s face it, I was way too sophisticated for you dehatis), a failed director (let’s face it again, you shallow brained nitwits just couldn’t fathom what I wanted to convey), and finally found my bearings in what I do best, being a socialite and chatting over tea with celebrities like film people, sportspersons, models, politicians, industrialists and other rich and famous people, all of whom allege to be socio-culturally relevant.
Star TV keeps giving me extension after extension for additional seasons for this ‘Look at me. I have arrived’ chat show. So as I cordially invite these beautiful people with their heavy baggage of airs over to my show, why can’t all of you menials sit up and take notice?
And why not? Didn’t you always want to know Rattan Tata’s views on marriage? Or whether Amitabh and Jaya are in fact a happy couple? Or who wears the pants at Anil and Tina Ambani’s home? Or can Shobha De prepare fish the Bengali way like Dilip De prefers it? Or who between Leander and Mahesh is more popular with the girls? Didn’t you spend sleepless nights with bitten fingernails over the crucially important answers to the same? Isn’t your daily life inextricably intertwined in such details?
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I have this remarkable ability of believing with a strong conviction whatever my guests say.
Like Karreina Kapoor told me that she did time at Havard University studying Microcomputers and Information Technology. I could scarcely think of probing this further to gauge her aptitude in the same, as I myself haven’t even superficial awareness about it. Why, I even showed a photograph of hers with a Havard cap as ample evidence.
Like I let Jayalalitha summarily dismiss all allegations of corruption. I tut tutted in disbelief, which incidentally I do with practiced panache, as she shared her horror stories of her time in rat-infested prisons.
Like when Yash Birla came over wearing gray contact lenses, a purple waistcoat and more foundation cream than his wife Avanti Birla, I almost swooned while complimenting him on his good looks and taste in clothes.
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Call me a chamchi or a behind kisser of my rich and famous guests, but I never liked the aggressive, finger-pointing style of the earlier chat shows on TV. I thought when I'd have my own chat show I'll do it differently. Pout, purr, act doe-eyed and take whatever the guests say at face value, explicitly encouraging their artifice and pretence.
However, I do come across rude boys like Aamir Khan who answer back, “I’m not a clock.” to what I feel is one of my most profoundly psycho-examining question, “What makes you tick?” I ask this unfailingly to each and every guest and you must see how they smile beatifically as they try to come up with something that makes as much sense as possible. Of course I give them ample time to mull over it, and coo breathlessly that yet another gracious line of mine, “Have I put you in a fix? Take your time, muh daahling”, while I clutch at my throat yet again, this time in an apologetic manner.
I am personal friends with most of my guests and let it show ebulliently in each telecast.
For eg. I will never say as a matter of factly, “Here comes Mahima.” I will instead say, “Ohhhhh!! Here khummmz Mahhhhimmmmaaaahhh. Mahhiimmaaahh muh deeeaaahh you lukkhh goooorgoeus”.
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I am also known as the icon of style, the lady in white. Did you know that this frilly, flouncy, flowery, pale white set, has been designed under my personal supervision to make it appear like a terribly classy lounging area.
I oooh and aaah sympathetically over any given lie my guest utters. Since the show is not live, my shots are taken separately and edited in haphazardly, not only for me to get my tiresomely rehearsed reactions right, but also since I permit being shot in soft focus only.
At times, I do get truly candid guests like Kajol, who came over with her friend Karan Johar. Kajol was completely at home and spontaneous. But I’d had rather wished the lady took my show a bit more seriously as it is meant to be. She gave decorum a damn, poked fun at the show itself and with a shocking frankness asked Karan Johar to go in for artificial insemination in case he ever got married.
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How this little birdy called time flies!! Sadly we forgo each other's precious company. You people are so sweet and gracious.
Allow me to thank you for coming to my show while I hold your palms in mine momentarily, which is yet another of my perfunctory boring gesture.
And oh, we forget to blow kisses in the air whilst our cheek to cheek touch.
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