Lattu dekha hai, lattu? Ya, English mein jisko top bolte hain? That’s how my head’s been spinning for months, jab se is silly show Dil Ki Nazar Se Khoobsurat (Sony) mein Aaradhya mistakenly marries Madhav and is now, at the brink of divorce, realising that she’s in love with her husband.

Ask Dharmendra about how he’s coping without alcohol and he quotes a sher:
“Pe ke daru khud se door ho gaye the, Chhod ke daru apne paas aa gaye hain.”
And adds, in his quintessential style, “Chodd ke daru main Dharmendra ho jata hoon. Nahin toh Dharmendraaaa ho jata hoon.”

Love. According to my teenage son, when a girl smiles at a boy and launches him instantly into space — Sputnik like, without a countdown — that’s love. For girls his age, love is calling five times a day and then the sixth.

I’m in a strange mood these days, continually seeking scary films and shows. When I was on my third such adventure, I decided to pause, read up on what was going on. Some experts say that teens and 20-somethings, people who score high on a scale that measures sensation-seeking, are more likely to seek films that scare than older people because “life’s (real) horrors scare them” much, much more.

Qubool Hai (Zee TV) is that token item, that rarity which keeps us Indians living firmly and happily under the illusion that we are secular people.

Which stories do you love the most? Love stories? Fantasy? Mythology? Spy thrillers? Horror? Raunchy stuff? Science fiction? Historical sagas? I read some of these, but I don’t go seeking them.

Ektaji, who gave us sati savitri ladies with long-long front pallus and sindoor-spouting scalps, women who, when wronged, suffered for many episodes before deigning to extract revenge bit by bit, has moved to the other realm, to the duniya where pret aatmas dwell.

I don’t believe in fasting-shasting. But starting tomorrow I am going to keep Jai Santoshi Ma’s vrat till Ma gives me darshan and some answers. I have pledged that I am going to go to the temple every evening and ghanti baja-baja ke I’m going to ask, “Khush toh bahut hogi tum ke hot 'n’ happening Shivji ko finally abandon kar ke main aapke paas aayi hoon? So, Ma, meri pyari Ambe, Jagdambe Ma, stop smiling and tell me ki kyu aaj-kal mein jahan dekhti hoon, mujhe Gujarati hi Gujarati nazar aate hain?”

What are your childhood memories of food? Did your mother make the world’s best dal? Did she stir up the best bhindi known to man, woman? Did she make ladoos you could die for? My childhood memories of my mother’s food are of two kinds. She loved making deserts — gajar ka halwa, Milkmaid barfi, and the World’s Best Kheer.

I am fully fed up of people who start howling the moment anyone mentions desi soaps. Yeh woh log hain who sometimes watch Grey’s Anatomy and Homeland, but never any show where women dress up as if they are late for their shaadi ka mandap.