Stephen Gately was in town last week. Before you people say 'Stephen who?' let me introduce him properly. He belongs to Boyzone, is one of its lead singers. He was in Bombay to promote his solo attempt, New Beginning. rediff.com and the managers of his visit had a deal whereby Gately would appear for a chat on our site and do an interview simultaneously. All the technicalities taken care of, Chat Producer Suparn Verma, Systems Administrator Shailesh Soni and myself marched towards suite number 1734 of Hotel Regent, Bandra. The prospect of interviewing an international star didn't give as much a major kick as I thought it would. Mainly because the band wasn't my favourite. No offence! We reached the suite at 1830 hours IST. The chat was scheduled for 1900 hours. I was so engrossed in admiring the wallpapers, automatic curtains, lamps etc that I barely had time to feel nervous -- something that I go through as a rule before every assignment. That suite was indeed worth a 'wah-wah '. Cushy carpets, beautiful bedcovers, not a trace of dust anywhere, 21-inch flat screen TV, a mini bar, glass doors in the bathroom... Wow! The wait for Gately seemed endless. Poor chap, on his way back from Groove, a music store, where he had been severely mobbed, he had got stuck in the ruthless Bombay traffic. An hour passed. Then another. Finally at 2100 hours, the event managers knocked on our door. Uh, bad news! "Stephen has only 5-10 minutes to spare," they told us. "Wrap up the chat as soon as possible." Well, suffice it to say that all of us had major palpitations. Suparn, I suspect, missed a heart attack by the skin of his teeth. I hid the questionnaire that I had prepared for the interview. At long last Gately arrived. With him were his manager and bodyguard. 'Crow' is more the term I would use to describe the manager. In black shirt and trousers, with a black bag, and oxidised earrings, he looked straight out of a Wes Craven thriller. Mr Bodyguard, for his part, resembled WWF superstar Bam Bam Biglow. Boy! Was I shivering! And the air-conditioner wasn't the reason why. The chat started, much to Suparn's relief. The poor chap had been having a hot time cooling off irritated crowds. Gately was at ease and it appeared that he was really enjoying himself. Did he ever think that he, a poor farmer's son, would end up an international pop star? That's what they call destiny, I guess. For a split second I wanted to be in his golden shoes. How lovely it would be to travel the world, waving out to hysterical crowds, stay at the best hotels... Seemed that Gately had everything going for him. The manager's voice broke my chain of thoughts. "C'mon, Stephen, time's up!" he was saying. His tone was that of a ruthless master, one who whips his poor slave day and night. Poor Gately, he requested two more minutes, trying to hide the humiliation gleaning in his big blue eyes. International star, teenage heartthrob... Gately is all that and more. But in his manager's hand he is a mere puppet. Think of that: some man dictating your life! Is that what being a star, being Gately, is all about? Maybe he isn't all that lucky. Sukanya Verma prefers being in her own shoes, thank you. Tell us what you think of this diary
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