05 January,2010 10:07 AM IST | | Nolan Pinto
As a journalist sometimes we're often led onto a wild goose chase, this story was not very different, instead, the goose here was probably the hottest female pop star since Madonna
I had almost planned my New Years Eve schedule the previous night and had a long talk with a pal about the possible plans we could hope on fulfilling. We meticulously planned and even went to the limits of planning a no-other-option option -- our trusted Plan B. Several hours later, both the plans we're tendered useless and I was packed off to Kerala, in search of the ever-elusive Britney Spears!
It was ten thirty that morning on December 30, when I received a call asking me to pack my bags and get ready to leave to God's own Country -- Kerala. For a moment, I could not believe what I was hearing.
Here, I was, planned to the pin, for once in my life and in one call all my plans were now phut! What was I to report in Kerala, the secret remained a secret for several more hours that day.
The day passed by with a lot of confusion. Nobody was quite sure if Miss B was for a fact, going to spend her New Years Eve on the placid waters of Lake Vembanad. When I suprisingly however, got the go ahead later that noon, the next logical step was to get a bus ticket. Now if anyone has ever told you that booking a ticket for a trip to Kerala during the winter season was easy, please do me and yourself a favour and shoot that person in the head!
It was one helluva chaotic drama as I tried booking my tickets and getting my oh-so-important seat in that vehicle that would transport me to Kerala's sandy beaches. Few hours later, ticket in hand, and several warnings, advices and a paper-written list of instructions later, I left Bangalore, feeling as every bit unnerved as a young virgin paparazzi wannabe.
Baker Junction at Kottayam seemed to look barren, almost straight out of a horror flick at six in the morning. To my luck, my neighbour on the bus was fluent in Tamil and hence could manage to speak a bit of Malayalam.
So, with his help we were soon on our way to a hotel where I booked a room.
Now, I've always assumed I could manage in a foreign land and believe me I have, five years in Kuwait and one year in Scotland, has surely left me quite-the-manager in foreign lands. Kerala was out to prove me wrong and my first lesson in precautious communication was to be more elaborate. I asked a room boy for a cup of coffee and soon I was served with much confidence, a cup of tea. God! I needed to learn Malayalam.
Kumarakom was the next destination, the promised land, the very spot, where her poppiness Miss B was said to have last been spotted at. Within a few hours, the photographer posse arrived and in a few minutes, we were heading to our destination in a speeding Mitsubishi Lancer.
This trip was the best I had had in a long time. Trees on the left and trees on the right, silent streams with small boats rowing past, narrow roads and birds fluttering everywhere.
It was a sure treat for my city weary eyes. I could spot tiny boats and their much larger brothers (used in the famous snake boat races).
The journey in the car was interesting, with me questioning them on every little thing I saw. Pronouncing the words, which were like little unpronounceable tongue twisters, seemed to make everyone giggle and smile.u00a0
Now, from the photographer's sources, Miss B was to arrive at a particular place in a particular boat, at about twelve noon. With all the particulars in my head, ringing away like a bell, and several more hours to pass, I decided to take a walk at the close-by bird sanctuary.
The sanctuary was a bore and an hour later I quietly decided to give into my paparazzi callings and positioned myself where I was meant to be. We were told that she would pass the Oberoi Jetty an hour later and thus began my day of waiting (sometimes patiently and sometimes impatiently) for any sign of the elusive Miss B.
Lunch seemed to be the only experience that lifted my spirits that day and I seemed to lose all my apprehensions, disappointments and worries for just that one delicious meal. With 7 varieties of fish spread on the table, it was a feast fit for a king. I truly enjoyed the delicious kari meen pollichathu, even though I had a really small appetite (thanks to all the tension), but I did enjoy the meal. Once that was over, it was back to the pointless waiting.
At five in the evening, finally, things seemed to pick up and suddenly there was a mad rush of reporters at the 'assigned' spot.u00a0 In an hour I was told the much-awaited MV Vrinda (the boat Miss B was apparently on) would dock at the jetty. At six, the boat did dock, and the jetty did ring mad with clicks from wild cameras, the only difference was that Miss B was nowhere in sight.
We had all been fooled or she was the hugest and most elusive pop star on earth. Who was playing a huge practical joke on whom, seemed to be the question of the hour.
I could just not believe it. I remember standing there, straining my eyes on this boat for any sign of her.
I wanted to find her on this boat; she had to be there after all this waiting. But, she wasn't and I had to deal with it. For once, I felt and knew what the paparazzi go through.
They might not have the coolest job in the world or to some of you they just might, but they surely do have one of the most stressful work environments, one might ever work under.
At nine that night, dejected and tired, I headed back to Kottayam. I was booked for a bus at 10.30 to Coimbatore in Tamilnadu.u00a0 I brought in my new year on this bus, with eight of my companions.
The only interesting thing was the soothing Carnatic music that played on board that almost seemed to tell me to relax and let bygones be bygones. The bus dropped me off at the railway station in Coimbatore and I was to catch the Kurla express, at 8 am on January 1, 2010.
I sat and waited for the train while the damp air and light breeze kept the heat at bay. People kept rushing in and out oblivious of me sitting in their midst.
The auto drivers were the only ones who took notice of me and kept approaching me to ask me if I needed an auto or taxi. Talk of marketing!
The train finally left at quarter to nine and I reached Bangalore at quarter past four in the evening.
My journey did not end there and I took a detour to Mysore, another good two hours away. I was finally home for the New Year and I was finally at peace. Was I happy or what!
In search of Britney Spears, I had traveled to God's own Country for two days, and passed three states enroute. Was it fun, you ask? Of course, it was! Was it exciting? Of course it was! Do I regret not seeing her?
Yes, a bit!
But if you want to hear the truth, I could definitely do without anyone mentioning her name, ever again!
