Babbar roars

Babbar roars
Babbar roars

Prateik Babbar at a shoot in Mehboob Studio in Bandra yesterday

Booked

YOUR diarist has got the scoop on the latest tell-all. Instead of harbouring dreams of seeing his name in the marquee lights – a common aspiration given the recent rash of cricket biopics – it looks like Dada wants to tell his story in how own words. He’s recently signed the dotted line with digital publisher du jour, and now we can’t wait to hear about those nuptials with Nagma, and what he really thinks of Greg Chappell. If you think it’s going to be one of those anodyne, self-sanctifying autobiographies, let’s just say his publisher has a knack for squeezing out those delicious details.

Home, sea home

THE leggy Aditi Mehta Premji only ever leverages her last name for a good cause –attending Tina Brown’s women empowerment conference in New York, say, or promoting an infant warmer that can help save premie babies. But before she acquired her famous moniker, she spent a happygo-lucky childhood at Breach Candy’s stunning Sea Face Park. And when a friend’s drone flew over the Arabian and captured this shot, it sent Aditi into a tailspin of memories – of play time with old pals like venture cap director Viraj Mahadevia and NYC art director Tania Bijlani, jumping off parapets, in the stiff sea breeze. And the lovely lady whose smile will brighten a room full of luminaries now visits frequently -- from a new home in Bangalore, so her two tots can recreate times gone by.

What maturity

WHILE some industrialists (rather debt-ridden, we might add) like to throw flamboyant parties to bring in their 60th, the elegance with which Sushil Jiwarajka has decided to celebrate this landmark in his life is edifying. “I have decided to celebrate the entire 60th year with a series of activities aimed at taking the focus away from myself and toward the underprivileged.” He’ll be adopting 60 girls who are orphaned or with terminally-ill parents and pay for their entire education; build 60 toilets in a rural village; plant 6,000 trees (60 each for 100 close friends, can we count ourselves among this gentleman’s inner sanctum?); pay for 60 cataract surgeries for the less fortunate; spend 60 per cent of his time on non-profit activities; and reduce his wardrobe by 60 per cent in these ecologically-challenged times. That’s what he pledged in a letter sent out to close friends. We can’t help but hope that he lives to be 120. Happy birthday in advance.

That’s what pals are for

OUR favourite funnyman, columnist, and old pal Anuvab Pal (yes, our punning is not comedic-grade) is taking over one of New York City’s most storied stages. You might have heard of a few of the Gotham Comedy Club’s other headlining acts – does Will Ferell ring a bell, or maybe Eddie Murphy? Pal, who goes on next Monday night says he’s “terrified” but that he’s going to pretend like it’s open mic at the local dive. He’s going to be stepping into the same spotlight as some of his personal heroes – Eddie Izzard and Louis CK – but instead of tooting that trumpet, Pal made sure to shout out his buddies, fellow comedians Vir Das and Papa CJ, who have played another stellar club across town – Caroline’s – in the Big Apple before him. And here we were beginning to think only Priyanka Chopra had transatlantic chops.

Tailpiece

SO we hear that this lovely, feisty socialite who last year got married to her younger beau is in a bit of a fix. The said husband who is still in his 40s is getting broody, and has been posting several pictures on Instagram with adorable babies and the hashtag Baby Cravings. If that’s a not-so-subtle hint, we don’t know what is. What we can tell you is that the other night when we were sharing a table with one of the city’s top IVF specialists and a few lady friends, our ears pricked when there was some talk of the said socialite having frozen her eggs and whether this was the time to defreeze them. Keep watching this space.