Do you miss the Bookers and Commonwealths on your literary mantle?
I write for readers, not awards. And I refuse to write formulaic books revolving around caste and class that Western publishers adore. Marlon Brando once said, ‘I also write for appreciation now, whatever the motivation may have been in the past.’ And that appreciation comes from readers, not  literary committees sitting in London. Like Bollywood chasing an Oscar, certain Indian authors too pander to publishers abroad. I find that cringe making. 

Few years back, 40 was the new 30. Today, 60 is the new 40. How does it feel to be in the 60s’ club?
It’s a pretty good space to be in. But don’t treat me like the first woman to turn 60. I neither flaunt nor hide my age. I am cool about this biological fact of life. The next decade looks crowded, productive and exciting. 

The general media reports about Bollywood today the way Stardust did under your editorship in the 1970s. Your take on that.
The Stardustisation of media is complete. I have a hearty laugh at the irony of it all. The media barons who once huffed and puffed about Stardust have now converted their publications into its new-age versions. In such a crowded field of clones, it’s hard to tell one from the other. 

As Stardust editor, you had once said, “What we write is only 20 per cent of the rot in film industry lives. If we wrote the 100 per cent, there would be no idols left.” Do you still hold that view?
Stardust was and still is a phenomenon. It brought about a sea-change in film journalism. It was irreverent, witty and daring enough to go into unknown territory. While other magazines devoted pages to Asha Parekh’s poodles, Stardust ran stories on Rajesh Khanna’s secret marriage.  

... contd.