His inquisition was similar to mine to notice Hrithik’s sixth pinky finger when Kaho Naa Pyar hai was released. More or less I was always satisfied to spot it while watching him challenge the human mucular system in Ek Pal ka jeena. Even before I could really calm his anxious nerves down he had already started stammering at a pace tht poor Shahrukh would feel embarass. The words came out with same monotonic frequencies combined with the usual banal use of head movements. I was just glad it was not complimented with the yelling and shrieking of Kareena with loud words bubbling out with no awareness of around. I asked him to relax and gave him a glass of water. He got little relax and muttered something that only Amitabh Bachchan could understand and decipher. His sounds oozed out of his lips which gave Abhishek a second runnerup trophy for ‘Fattest Lips contest’. I wanted to runout of the situation faster than Akshay Kumar ever ran in his annual relay race of ‘comedy of errors’. Though I couldn’t run out as I was as faithful to the relation as Himesh to his claim of ‘no nasal singing’. My headaches were growing at a pace higher than the rate at which body of Amrita Rao/ Ayesha Takia/ Hansika Motwani/Celina Jaitely grew. I wanted to escape but was stopped by his whimpering state borrowed by after effects of watching Salman attempt comedy. Few more minutes had passed digesting his usual state of repetitive act a la Shiney Ahuja/ Emraan Hashmi. He mellowed down and the next moment came out with an irritating act like Rani’s obsession of trull roles or Preity’s obsession with excessive hard exterior and marshmallow interior looks. The mannerism was fully desi but ashamed to adorn it publicly on the lines of typical Saif or Fardeen. The eyes were droopy with sagging eye bags with space larger than Sanju baba. The hair was rumpled but in a slightly better condition than alfa alfa on Vivek oops Viveik Oberoi’s head. The talks were not even welcomed in my left ear much to the delight of right ear which filtered talks of likes of Uday Chopra/ Zayed Khan/Arbaaz Khan/Aftab Shivdasani/Sohail Khan/Arjun Rampal. The talks were gladly ignored and now sounded as a background score but obviously better than Sunil oops Suneil Shetty’s or Bobby Deol’s baritone. His body frame was shivering and reminded me of all the effects wind had on Shahid Kapoor. The heart was giving refusal to believe he was growing old much to the delight of Anil Kapoor. He wanted me to hang around him but I am no Arshad Warsi/Tushar Kapoor. His eyes were intense but had not yet convinced me as they weren’t as intense as Aamir’s or Ajay Devgan’s. The facial expression were stuck and reminded me of a certain John Abraham or his best friend Dino Morea. His history with me was long forgotten as likes of Chandrachur Singh/Esha Deol/Tanishaa/Amisha. I loved him, criticized him, danced with him, fought with him. He was my friday man. If my mood was good I’d treat him a box office success or else I’d tear him apart doing his critical analysis. He was and he will always be my filmy dost.