IN my world, there are quite a few babes worth getting all fired up for. The first is the 787 Dreamliner; the hottest babe to come out of the Boeing stable. Then there’s the babes in Bollywood, who have set many Malaysian hearts on fire. Then there’s the real regal baby whose imminent arrival (at the time of writing) has set all royal watchers of the House of Windsor – still moaning and pining for the pomp and dysfunctional glamour associated with Diana – go all uncontrollably cooey for baby.

Planes? I simply love them. I am one of those who does not mind being delayed in airport lounges so long as it has a big glass viewing window enabling me to watch the taxing, landing and taking off of those metal behemoths. For that reason I loved the Don Muang of old where you see all the tail of the myriad planes with exotic tail logos promising to get you anyway from Tirana to Timbuctoo.

The two most identifiable feature of the Dreamliner are the raked nose and the serrated rear of the engine nacelle. In flight, it looks like some graceful giant manta ray with Steve Irwin – May God Bless His Soul – filming from underneath its bulbous belly.

The plane is so hot, literally; that it attracts fire like moths to flame. When I say fire, actual red hot flame fanning fire. The latest was on an Ethiopian Airlines Dreamliner which was not even moving! It was parked on one of the apron stands with nobody inside – which caught fire and closed Heathrow’s runways for a good two hours!

I was all worked up and got pretty excited when I caught sight of a Dreamliner from my seat in a Qatar Airways flight taxiing soon after landing from Kuala Lumpur back in May. There it was, the object of my desire sitting on the tarmac showing off its distinctive engine cowling with the saw tooth serrations all round the exhaust outlet. I did not catch full sight of her fuselage where the airline would have proudly painted her given name. This one which caught fire in Heathrow was called – the Queen of Sheba.

For those of you who know your mythological history, Sheba was so overly enchanting that an infatuated King Solomon lost all control and committed what our three randy handball athletes did to their victim at the recently concluded Sukma games. Sheba who had travelled from afar in order to find out for herself the extent of Solomon’s intellectual omnipotence was the King’s houseguest, if you must know. Looks like we have not moved much from them dark days and ancient ways.



But this baby has a problem – it is problem-plagued with mystery fires breaking out just when we all thought the initial teething problems with its batteries had been conquered.

Cue next Bollywood babe; or babe-maker. If you dont’ already know, megastar Shah Rukh Khan and wife Gauri are finding themselves in a bit of a tizzy, all over their new baby. Its all to do with this sudden clamour for surrogacy amongst Bollywood’s top tier film stars who want to increase the size of their Bolly Brood.
Having had two children already who are now in their early teens, the couple it appears have been trying unsuccessfully for a third for the past two years. What, you might ask; has the well simply dried up in either couple? Let’s not go down the biological road and get ourselves all worked up on the reproductive fertility of either of them – suffice to say, they are monied enough and influential enough to call on the services of India’s fertility Guru to the Stars to administer his latest IVF techniques. He’s got a good track record after all – made happy mothers and fathers out of other super stars who otherwise would be barren; for whatever reason.

Only trouble is, India has this law that prohibits couples taking tests that will determine the baby’s gender to prevent foeticide in the case boys are favoured over girls. Somehow I wonder – wouldn’t doing things in a dish, and not leave things to chance (which I in my gynaecological ignorance think would enable you to introduce whatever variable you want to select whatever feature you desire; including sex) allow you to pick and choose from a veritable menu of characteristics for your next bundle of joy?

Alas for his detractors who just cannot wait to see him stumble, SRK did things all above board and try as one might, there’s not a shred of evidence to suggest any breach on his part.

That allegation out of the way, some appear not to want to let go like some rabid dog hanging on to stinky bone. There’s talk that the surrogate was his SRK’s sister which in the twisted minds of some brings in the question of – I can’t even begin to want to think of the word.




If such information is to be trooped out to all and sundry, where then is the secrecy in surrogacy. India, thankfully is so far ahead in such matters of freedom and respect for private space that we would do well to take a leaf, or two from their book.

Now for something all together truly regal – the goings on in the House of Windsor. At the time of writing, the royal baby is steadfastly refusing to come out from the comfort of the royal womb.
Amongst Britons with republican leanings, the matriarch of the clan – the reigning Queen Elizabeth the Second – is seen as an anathema in the world of first World sensitivities by having such a big brood. There’s stiff and upright Charles, stiff and uptight Anne, swashbuckling Edward and the is-he or isn’t he Andrew; four too many in society whose average family size is 1.3. How that works out in reality is for the demographic statistician to fathom but it simply means that after the first delivery, then as a responsible citizen of this already crowded world, one is expected to tie up one’s royal fallopian tubes and shut up shop for the good of humanity.

This fascination with Royal births – the real life dysfunctional one that is the lives of the Windsors right before our eyes – is all down to the mystic of the Diana Dynasty. The world did not get enough of her silly little stunts which was unfortunately cut short in its heady fast-paced prime. It was pure theatrical tragic-comedy worthy of any Hollywood script and the attention of dogged paparazzi that ended in broken hearts, and tragic death. In her son – Prince William, who were he female, is a spitting image of Diana, maybe with a lot more steel and resolve. When William was born some three decades ago, dad who is widely admired for his self-deprecating humour memorably said something about the baby inheriting all the beautiful qualities of mum. Indeed, in William, many of Diana’s pining admirers see a male extension of the Di Dynasty and simply cannot wait for him to carry on the torch of an unfinished legacy.

There you have it, three babies that will shape their respective worlds. Which of the three will go on to conquer the world, we shall wait and see.


RAZAK Chik cannot wait for Meow, his favourite tabby to deliver her first litter.