Now just imagine Brad Pitt saying, “Angelina jaan, what’s cooking?” Or Angelina calling out loud, “Bradji...how about a cup of coffee?” Out here in Bollytown, though, a “ji”, “saab”, “sirji”, is as compulsory as a polio vaccine.
Hence, off-screen Jaya Bachchanji addresses her husband as, “Amitji”. In return, he calls her “Jayaji”.
Dharmendra is “Dharamji” for Hema Malini. For him, she’s “Hemaji”. Similarly, once there would be something crisply formal about Sarika calling her former husband “Kamalji”. And he would refer to her as “Sarikaji”. Even his ex-ex-wife, Vani Ganapathy, would be diplomatically called, “Vaniji.”
Now that “ji”-word may be a mark of respect or a nod to good manners. Fine, no issues. Still, I’ve never been able to quite figure out this lingo etiquette. If I were married, I would have surely been rattled on being addressed as “Khalidji” at the breakfast table or the lord forbid, “Sweet dreams, Khalid saab” before hitting the pillows.
Just for the record, once, I was quite zapped when Sridevi, in the course of an interview discussing a Hollywood assignment, had said, “Unfortunately, I couldn’t accept the offer from Spielbergji.” Ji whiz! I was barraged with inquiries if Srideviji had actually said that. Mercifully, the interview was tape-recorded. Incidentally, Sriji retains the ji-fixation, alluding to her husband as “Boneyji.”
Now why am I getting into this “ji” business this Sunday? Simply because this year Jayaji famously threw a flaming fit at the paparazzi. In a bid to draw the attention of her daughter-in-law for a photo-op, the camera squad had yelled out loud, “Aishwarya” and worse, “Ash! Ash! Look this side...” Absolutely not done, Jayaji reprimanded them, saying words to the effect that Aishwaryaji wasn’t their school buddy. Oops, the flashbulbs froze. Earlier this month, reports claim that Farzana Khan, long-time secretary to Rekha was majorly bugged with a call from New Delhi’s Directorate of International Film Festivals. The call was to invite the ageless actress to the festival’s inaugural ceremony in Goa. “Rekhaji kaho, not Rekha,” the secretary chided the directorate’s uncouth officer who was obviously talking as if Rekhaji was his kindergarten chum, and not a Rajya Sabha MP. Evidently familiarity breeds intolerance.
Moreover the word “ji” can be insufficient.
Rumour hath it that Shah Rukh Khan will give you a warmer hug, if you greet him with a, “So how are you King Khan?” Salman Khan will quit frowning if you initiate a conversation with, “So bhai, what’s up?” Presumably that makes him feel brotherly. And I don’t know whether to believe this or not but Saif Ali Khan beams if you accost him with, “How’s life Nawab saab?”
On the other hand, Rishi Kapoor permits only those who’ve known him since those Bobby and Raffoochakkar days, to call him Chintu. And if you ever want to make Govinda go blue in the face, just use his pet name Chi Chi. Not done, unless you’re family or a stubborn scribe from a saucy magazine.
And you’d be taking a life-threatening risk if you dare to call Ajay Devgn — AJ. On a similar note, Kajol can be Kads, Tabu Tobler (not to be mixed up with the chocolate bar), and Priyanka Chopra PeeCee or stranger still, Piggy Chops, only for their nearest and dearest ones. For mere mortals, they’re Kajolji, Tabuji and Priyankaji.
So, the moral of the story? The next time, on asking a Bollywood star for an autograph, do mind your p’s, q’s and ji’s. Because every Bollywoodkar likes that thing called “ji” huzoori.
