Shilpa Shetty

Shilpa Shetty.

The beautiful Bollywood star has become something of an apologetic heroine in Britain. Ever since Jade Goody launched her "racist" bullying tirade against Shetty in the Big Brother house, the country's scurried in support.

It's quite sad, really. I think Jade Goody's behaviour was a rather awkward insight into what Brits are REALLY like. This love affair with Shilpa seems to be the general public's way of saying "we're not like that... really...."

But of course we are - hence why we were so quick to forgive Jade Goody's cackle-buddy, disgraced Miss England Danielle Lloyd. That and her enormous cleavage.

Anyway. Shilpa was pretty washed out back home in Bollywood. That's probably why she decided to commit career suicide by entering the Big Brother house in the first place. But while her career is still languishing in India - she's made it big in Britain.

Her own show. Endless appearances in magazines... and now she's buying a house in London and starting her own business.

Which is where it all gets a bit silly.

Poor Shilpa was the victim of racial stereotyping. Jade offended her (and the nation, apparently) by calling her "Shilpa Poppadom." Imagine the horror! Making a joke like that just because she's Indian...

But what has the Bollywood babe gone and done?

She's started a chain of curry houses.

Now she could have started a modelling agency - back in India she was known as "The Body."

She could have launched her own beauty products - there were plenty of dark haired women who were delighted to see somebody famous and beautiful bleaching their upper lip.

She could even have started her own dojo - she's a black belt in karate.

But no. She went for the chain of curry houses. After all the fuss and bother of racial stereotyping, she goes and follows it. I wouldn't be surprised if she goes and names the chain "Shilpa Poppadom" just to really grind it in.

It's genius, really. A combination of Britain's two favourite things. Insincere apology and curry.

Best of luck to her, really. Shilpa is a real star - beautiful, talented and intelligent. If anybody's going to milk the British public, I'd prefer it was her. The alternative is Jade Goody - and if trash television like Big Brother has made any positive contribution to society, it was nailing that terrible woman's career.*

Read about the curry catastrophe here.

* Although in retrospect, it also launched her career as well. Endemol has a lot to answer for.

Pub Double - A Short Story

This story was inspired by all the Shilpa/Jade racism nonsense that's been dominating the media at the moment. I'm not entirely sure it works, but I gave it a try.

The pub was packed and noisy.

Eddy and Pranay shouldered their way to the bar.

“Hey!” There was a gap in the crowd, barely a few inches wide. Eddy managed to squeeze in. “Two pints of Grolsch, please.”

The barman nodded, reaching for the pint glasses.

A rough shove crushed Eddy against the bar.

“Oh, sorry, Mate.” A big fellow with a shaved head turned around, sloshing beer over Eddy’s shoulder. But the apology died on his lips.

“Hey!” His dilated eyes widened. He took in Eddy’s bright red hair, curly and dishevelled. “Hllo, Ginger!”

Eddy winced, but said nothing. He held out his hands for the two pints.

There was another shove. This time it was friendly, but over enthusiastic.

“Oi, Ginger!” the shaven headed man slurred. “I’m talking to you!”

Eddy looked up, his eyes narrow slits.

“That’s right, Ginger,” the big man grinned, gratified by the response. “I’ve always wanted to know. Do your collars and cuffs match, Mate?”

Eddy ignored him. He grabbed his drinks.

“Oi!” The bully wasn’t backing down. “I asked you a question!”

Eddy made to leave.

The man’s hand clamped down on his shoulder.

“Oi, Copperknob,” he slurred, “I’m talkin’ to you!”

Eddy snapped: “Leave me alone!”

“Oi, Easy, Mate,” the big man bristled, his shoulders widening. “I was just asking you a question.”

“Just leave me alone,” Eddy snapped. “Jesus. Can’t a guy go to a pub without being accosted by some drunken chav?”

The hand on Eddy’s shoulder tightened.

“What did you just call me, Duracell?”

Eddy noticed the atmosphere in the bar change. It was almost imperceptible, but the temperature dropped, he was sure of it.

The crowd backed away from the bar, realising there’d be trouble.

The shaven headed yob took a step forward, towering over Eddy. His breath stank of beer and cigarettes.

“You got a problem, Mate?”

Eddy looked up.

“Just leave me the hell alone.”

“Or you’ll what?” The big man gave Eddy a shove.

Eddy stumbled back, caught by the crowd. Drinks spilled. Voices were raised.

With a satisfied smirk, the thug with the shaven head took another step forward. Sensing easy prey, his stringy mates closed in too, backing their alpha male.

Eddy straightened himself up.

His mind raced.

The entire pub was looking at him. There was a mumble of excitement. The situation was balanced on a knife edge, turning nastier each second.

Backed by his three mates, the yob cracked his knuckles.

“I believe you called me a chav, Ginger.”

Eddy straightened his back and prepared for the worst.

That was when he felt a hand on his elbow.

It was Pranay.

Eddy’s skinny friend had stepped from the crowd to support him

The yob and his mates saw the new arrival.

“Oi,” the alpha snapped. “Back off, Paki.”

Almost as soon as the word has left his mouth, he regretted it.

The excited buzz chilled.

The pub fell silent.

The echo of the word ‘Paki’ hung accusingly in the air.

There was silence throughout the pub.

Then, from somewhere back in the room, somebody murmured: “Bloody racist.” That stunned opinion murmured through the crowd.

The yob’s friends exchanged nervous glances. They melted away, disappearing back into the crowd and firmly confirming that they were not with him. The entire pub was staring.

“Oi! You!” The landlord wheeled around the bar. “Get out! You’re barred!”

Grabbing the yob’s shoulder, the landlord shoved him roughly through the crowd and out into the street.

A moment later, he stepped back in from the cold, rubbing his hands.

“We’ll have none of that racist bollocks.”

There was a quick glance in Pranay’s direction.

“You alright, Mate?”

Pranay nodded blankly.

The crowd murmured in support, complaining about the racist yob.

Satisfied, the landlord grabbed Pranay’s glass to top it up.

As he passed Eddy, the landlord gave him a warning glare.

“I saw you start that, Ginger!”

Eddy’s mouth flapped open, wordlessly trying to defend himself.

The landlord wasn’t listening.

“Keep yourself out of trouble,” he warned, “or you’ll be out too!”