Mad about marriage It could have been a scene out of Hum Aapke Hain... except that the star was dressed in an unassuming blue salwar kameez in place of that famous 15-lakh-rupee backless lehenga choli that had set M.F. Husain's creative pulse racing and the cash registers ringing. The first day, first show of the first real matchmaking extravaganza on Indian television - Kahin Naa Kahin Koi Hai or the jaw-breaking KnKKH it's being promoted as - had Madhuri Dixit aka Mrs Sriram Nene in a new avatar: suave matchmaker. And show and showgirl seem to be made for each other. As the choli-ke-peechey girl coyly lip-syncs the tinkling title song glowing in bridal finery, you understand why people have been scurrying back home by 8.30 every evening since Monday. Evidently, this 'female Amitabh Bachchan' is set to pull off a KBC but, significantly, without a sum of Rs 1 crore as bait. For, amid the lavish exquisitely designed set presumably aimed at setting the mood for a negotiated marriage filmi , Mad is a natural. Once thought capable of carrying any film on her shoulder, she now seems ably set to undertake this small screen challenge. Her usual earnest self and bubbly manner seems just the right mix to set the two families at ease when she introduces them to each other. Mediator-like, she helps break the ice, too, between wannabe bride and groom as they swing in a jhula in a bid to seek permanence in their relationship. 'She wanted to look credible and convincing,' says Kunal Dasgupta, CEO, Sony Entertainment Television. Just as in the gamut of roles she's played - be it a high-voltage intense persona in Beta, Lajja, Mrityudand or a lighthearted, naughty but dutiful daughter in HAHK or Dil To Pagal Hai. 'Not just that, she wanted to look like one of the family, initiating the proceedings and ensuring that the prospective couple were relaxed,' explains Dasgupta. Even before the first episode was over, the production team realised that the girl-next-door image wouldn't quite work - notwithstanding that Mad has all the conventional credentials of a modern Indian woman. She comes from a middle-class Maharashtrian family, is convent educated, has a bachelor's degree in microbiology, has had an arranged marriage, and is now doing the home-and-work balancing act. In Shobhaa De's words, 'Your typical Maharashtrian neighbour who you can open up to with your most private secrets.' But who can forget she's a star too, and a star without the trappings of stardom is somehow unacceptable. In the very second episode the matchmaker emerges from behind the satin curtains in golden livery, dressed to kill. It works, for the audience seems to lap it all up. Yet, Madhuri also plays herself. Mad's brisk movements and spontaneity in just the right measure play down her star status, a move that she herself has underlined. She has no script - or so the organisers stress - and has been instructed to be her 'natural, effervescent self'. And this - the 'real' Madhuri - is possibly the programme's USP. If KBC saw the emergence of a Bachchan who was humble with old men, gentle with the matajis, playful with young men and mildly flirtatious with the girls, India's first homegrown reality show introduces another Madhuri. A Mad who engages her wit and humour, occasionally double-edged, melting hearts with her thousand-watt smile, siding in turn with the ladki-or ladke-wale, involved yet objective, rational still practical. Madhuri's metamorphosis is just as striking as Bachchan's makeover from the Angry Middle-Aged Man of the silver screen to KBC's hands-humbly-folded avatar. Madhuri, once known to be cold and unapproachable, now seems to be turning those attributes on their head. 'People expect stars to be a breed apart. They forget that they are humans too. I'm an introvert and don't speak much but that doesn't mean I'm snooty. If I have done two shifts, how can you expect me to be social?' she had once questioned indignantly, when she was still struggling to find a foothold in the industry. All those days, of course, are way behind her. KnKKH sees her in her element. Now, not only does she identify with the common man but, a la Bachchan, liaises with him, gives wing to his romantic dream and goes a step further than Bachchan to give it a real life lived-happily-ever-after spin. She is so dazzling, in fact, that it has been leaving the others in the show, those who've come in search of a life-partner, speechless. 'Initially the participants are so much in awe of her that they forget their purpose for being on the set,' says Dasgupta. To help overcome the problem, a makeshift house has been constructed just outside the set where the prospective bride, groom and their families spend time with the actress for the better part of the day before they actually face the camera. If she's putting heart and soul into the idiot box, she has reason to do so. An actress can't spend two decades in the film industry and still hope to look as fresh as the morning dew. Five years ago Dil To Pagal Hai saw the star nicknamed 'Moti (fatso)' on screen itself - which, all said and done, was only a slight exaggeration. Age, needless to say, is telling on her. More importantly, she has little to choose from as Bollywood hardly writes meaningful roles for women in their mid-30s. Devdas, they say, is to be her last film. Mad claims she hasn't been coming across scripts that excite her. But truth is, with the Kareenas and Amishas ruling the roost, few directors are queuing up at her doorstep with big ventures. Even in Devdas she got to be the second woman. So her small-screen debut in the up, close and personal KnKKH is rightly timed. As Dasgupta puts it, 'After KBC, actors have realised that venturing into the small screen can often effect a turnaround in terms of one's career.' Especially a show that doesn't demand another didi-tera-dewar-deewana act. Mad seems content to sit back and watch the participants jiggle once the soul mates join hands. There is perhaps a sense of déjà vu. Ever since Dr Nene has floated into her life through negotiation, she has merrily straddled two worlds - East and West, home and work and in snatches learned to cook biriyani and strum the guitar. Without having to give up one for the other. A point she asserts time and again on the show. In one episode still to be telecast, the would-be groom says he is all in favour of a working wife in the first few years of marriage. But after that he would party while she would raise the children. 'Madhuri,' says Dasgupta, 'was livid. She just piled on to the guy and later in an aside asked the prospective bride to not take such an attitude lying down.' Bride-would-be didn't. Worried at sending out the wrong signals, Dasgupta is quick to point out that the actress never tries to influence the decision of the families. Only at times she points out what is right and what is wrong. 'Not that she has too but because she likes to, in all earnestness.' By the look of things, this reality show is all set to hook viewers, some in search of soul mates, others lapping up pearls of wisdom uttered by the Roop Ki Rani. Before long, you might just have the nation singing in unison, ek, do, teen...aaja piya aaye bahar.