A 70-year-old lady, dressed in a purple sari, shuffles up to the bodyguard, and smiles good naturedly. "May I get an autograph for my grandson? He's a huge fan..."
Before she can finish, the guard dismisses her with a wave of the hand. After further entreaties, he finally deigns to conversation.
"Madonna will not sign autographs today. Please respect her wishes," he says curtly, in a European accent.
And there she is -- Madonna. I've had a hell of time finding her, vaguely circling the hotel in which she's staying -- Taj Hotel in Colaba, South Mumbai -- in the hope of catching a glimpse, eavesdropping on fellow reporters and trying to pick up a lead. But now she's larger than life, within an arm's reach.
It's 2:30 pm, and we are at Moshe's, a restaurant in Cuffe Parade, South Mumbai. Madonna is at the table next to mine, sitting at the head. She wears all-black: a light top, trousers and black leather boots. A simple red shawl drapes elegantly over her shoulders and runs down her back. The rest of her party -- husband Guy Ritchie,
Shantaram author Gregory David Roberts and other companions -- squeeze into a wrap-around booth opposite to her.
Throughout the one and a half hour lunch, they discuss a wide range of topics: metaphysics, Mumbai's slums, the meaning of life and more. Surprisingly, Madonna takes a backseat for much of the conversation, while Roberts and Ritchie engage in philosophical debate.
"The key to life, the key that drives our actions is a simple desire," says Ritchie. "We all desire to improve our current situation, to feel better than we do right now."
Roberts disagrees, and then launches into an explanation of chimpanzee