Something’s seriously wrong with me. I’m whirring as excitedly as a ceiling fan on the prospect of catching a micro-glimpse of Tom Cruise when he hits the Mumbai asphalt on December 4.

It seems he’ll be resting for a day after a long-haul flight from Los Angeles. And then tan tanna, he’ll be blazing that perfectly vanilla white smile — hopefully in a tuxedo — at a red carpet reception being strategised currently at the entrance of the Imax multiplex, Wadala. The event will last one hour, the lengthiest of its kind in Mumbai.
Trust the Guinness Tome of Records guys are clued in. Woohoo.
See, I’m truly tom-tomming the Cruise landing. For those who were snoozing for weeks and months, the landing is to promote Mission Impossible: The Ghost Protocol, the fourth chapter in the techno-flashmatazz blockbuster. Truth be told, I’m not nuts about FX extravaganzas. My taste’s more inclined towards world cinema, narrating stories which are... er... possible. Still, I wouldn’t be trilling about a Javier Bardem fetching up in my hometown or even my favourite Max Von Sydow from the Ingmar Bergman oeuvre. I guess Hollywood stars ooze so much glam-appeal that rational faculties are overpowered.
Of course, every breath that Tom Cruise will take in India, is an almost paranoically guarded secret. Advance crews have arrived to check out his hotel suite, whether the pillows are sufficiently fluffed and the soaps adequately aromatic. I tried my darndest to dig out some info on the visit from my jawani-day friend, Anil Kapoor, but he telleth not. He’s in the movie, and is obviously bound by protocol.
The media madness that will erupt could be as scary as The Exorcist (Part 1): TV armadas battling for sound ‘n’ visual bytes, website reporters spamming for oven-fresh quotes, the print mandarins getting bugged if they don’t have a panoramic view, and exclusive chatfiestas with the man who’s led a sporadically controversial life. Just hope no one brings up ex-wife Nicole Kidman, his belief in Scientology or the tabloid hysteria about his knee-high daughter, Suri’s penchant for haute couture. If big questions are permitted to be addressed to the Impossible superstar, they will be screened beforehand. Or will it be a funky free-for-all? Shiver me timbers.
And I do wonder whether Rajdeep Sardesai or Barkha Dutt will pin the Hollywood heart-throb in the hotseat. May the better man, or woman, win. The mind boggles at the very (remote) thought of Kaun Banega Crorepati or Bigg Boss, playing host to the gorgeous guest. Can’t rule that out, though, because they do grab the highest number of eyeballs. If Koffee with Karan was still on air, I wonder who would compete with Tom sir for the rapid round gift hamper. Perhaps all these possibilities will be impossibilities actually, in which case the visit just won’t have sufficient sauce and spark. Ask me.
Nearly a decade ago, an ultra-well-organised press meet with Demi Moore lulled me to sleep. When Madonna arrived, the material girl made news merely for snacking at an Udupi restaurant. Hotels where Brangelina hid during the shoot of A Mighty Heart were besieged. None spoke, till a shooting spell at a school ignited a row. Brad Pitt, along with Irrfan Khan, appeared on national TV to emphasise that they didn’t intend to upset the study classes. Nice.
News will flow fast and furiously about the cuisine sampled by the Mission star. If Tom sir relishes the crab curries and assorted tandooris, you’ll get to know about that in intimate detail from the hotel kitchen’s master chef. If he, Tom not the chef, sneaks off to Jaipur and Jodhpur, wow, international TV crews will be in attendance.
Local bandhni dupattas and kurta fabrics could get a free endorsement, no brands mentioned. Before he leaves Mumbai, there will be a classy dinner. All those not invited, will quaff sour grape juice. Come to think of it, after writing this column I’m quite cured. Nothing wrong with me now. I’ll skip Tom Cruise.