Friday, July 29, 2011


I recall with a certain fondness flying to Bombay (or Mumbai as she is now known). I had two thousand baht in my pocket, and nothing else apart from that youthful sense of adventure that I had buckets loads of back in those days. On the flight I met an Australian character who wanted to make it big in the movies. Bollywood. I had no money. I decided to be a movie star too. We made it to what I thought was the cheap side of town. Perhaps it was. We paid ten dollars for a room and found out that a bus arrived outside the hostel to pick up western extras for the movie business.

Next morning we jumped on the bus and drove through the city until we reached the filmset. Bollywood is an industrial estate. One dull warehouse after the other. The costume area is outside in a curtained-off area. I slipped on a blue poly-cotton mix suit, and my companion David wore some brown monster of a suit that made him look like a Chicago pimp. David could have leaped out of the pages of an Ice Berg Slim book, but he was from Biggin Hill, baby.

The inside of the set was designed to look like the inside of a cruise liner. We stood around drinking fake cocktails and watching Indian women dance. The super star was Amisha Patal the lead lady. What a fox - Thats her in the picture, not some random bengal babe.

I don't know. Sometimes I think about what I used to get up to and what I do now and think that life is slipping away, slowly.

But then again, I live in Bangkok.

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