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 behavioural traits, and how humans exhibit the same.
The white wine flows freely, though Madonna does not partake. Instead, she opts for two cups of chai. It appears the artist responsible for hits Like a Virgin and Take a Bow cannot get enough of India's national beverage!
Throughout the lunch, she is playful and jovial. She reaches for, tastes and describes the various dishes, complimenting the chef, who stands nearby, with decided gusto. Ritchie joins her, saying, "There is nothing else you can bring us or do for us. It was perfection!"
"I made them a little bit of everything, a sample of the entire menu. There were salads, breads, cous cous and non-vegetarian food," the chef tells me later.
The customers who walk past, invariably, do a double-take, whirling around to their loved ones and raising eyebrows. Outside, a media circus unfolds, as dozens of cops push back hundreds of bystanders and cameramen. Children from the nearby Cuffe Parade fishing village stand on tip-toes at the gate, hoping to steal a glance.
But Madonna, tucked inside at a private booth, is completely engrossed in the meal and accompanying conversation. She laughs freely, and swings her legs back and forth like a schoolgirl. An impish grin frequently flashes across her face, particularly when she sizes up dessert.
Six creations artfully adorn the table, including carrot cake, blueberry cheesecake and chocolate mousse.
Madonna uses her spoon to slice off a generous portion of the blueberry cheesecake. She slowly moves the utensil to her lips and slides the morsel inside. "Mmm, God! It's better than sex. Seriously, try this!" She says between moans, repeating the claim more than once.
Somehow, the Material Girl has made even lunch at Moshe's a sensuous affair.
