i saw kiran shah! a brush with a celebrity

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Omg.

Today I sat three seats down from Kiran Shah on the Eastward-bound Piccadilly tube line, between Hyde Park Corner and Leicester Square.

At first, all I noticed was, oh, what a short person. Then I remembered B.K. and the fic I just posted about him and bent forwards for a closer look. Then I noted the short person was Indian, and had very little hair, and looked, in fact, just like this, and I did a most absurd double-take and heart-flutter.

Then I just sat there and threw glances at the dark window opposite wherein he was reflected. All sorts of thoughts went through my mind, among them the following:

- I wish I were azewewish because then I would just rush up to him and say, "Hello!"
- If lazlet were here, she'd understand why I'm not doing it!
- Should I just walk over, past the punters, and say, "Excuse me, are you Shiran Khan? I recognise you from the extended DVD and could you write your autograph on this piece of paper? I am so honoured to meet you." (Yes, I debated the word 'honoured.')
- Omg, I've posted a story on the web, in the public domain and available for the entire world to read, about how you, Mr Shah, have sex with John Rhys-Davies and snog Viggo Mortensen. I feel so mortified.
- And it is truly public because only two days ago, doing research for my B.K. fic, I googled 'Kiran Shah foot', and the very first hit that came back was my own Kiran/Viggo fic, quite plain for anybody to see. Ack.
- But yet I look so respectable and middle-class and middle-age, clutching my academic book on Botticelli and my Election-Guardian, how would anyone know I am really the porny lobelia321 in disguise?
- Oh, here's my station. I could just continue sitting here and stalk him to his eventual destination. Otoh, I am meeting my friend for lunch in 15 minutes. Oops, I'm on the platform. I am wandering in the wrong direction, I am so flustered. One last stare, and up the escalator.

I immediately txted those of you whom I have in my mobile and it is only hours later, that I realised that I was in such a state that I txted his name as 'Shiran Khan', not 'Kiran Shah'! A weird amalgamation with Shahrukh Khan... So then I was relieved that I did not make a fool of myself by accosting the man and saying, "Hi, you're Shiran Khan!" (NOT!)

But goodness, what an experience.

Who knows? On my next trip to the daunting capital of this land, I may see Derek Benfield and then I will truly pee my pants. (Oh Lordy, the things we had him do...)

In other news: my constituency has turned from 13 years Labour to Liberal Democrats! Wee! (Them's wot i voted for altho i kud only vote locally, grr. But still! We had a whopping great LibDem sign in our front yard.)

( I can't believe I saw this man today. )