The other really big evening was the Louis Vuitton Bollywood theme party in honour of our Indian contingent, replete with Hindi hit tunes to which grooved an elite Dior-scented, diamond-draped special bunch of invitees from across Europe.

Imposing minarets, royal dinners, a thousand-year-old palm grove and Shashi Kapoor. Meher Marfatia is enveloped by the energy and vibrance of the Third Annual Marrakech Film Festival

Framed by the snow-capped heights of the Atlas Mountains, the small African country of Morocco — described as the tantalising lower lip on the mouth of the Mediterranean Sea – has taken its name from the imperial inner city of Marrakech. Declared ‘incontestably my favourite destination’ by American film-maker Martin Scorcese, Marrakech, with its rose-coloured medieval fortress ramparts and a thousand-year-old palm grove, has always been considered maddeningly mysterious, right from the earliest days of the Berbers inhabiting it.

So here I am, having just returned from the Third Annual Marrakech Film Festival as a journalist guest invited by Louis Vuitton, purveyors of one of the world’s most exclusive luxury product ranges. Everything had prepared me for the pure enchantment of the garden kingdom of the Saadian Dynasty; yet, I ended up utterly mesmerised, almost hypnotised, by the spell cast by this sumptuous place and its exuberant people.

The tiled courtyards, splendid palaces and teeming central squares of Marrakech radiate more magic come film fest time, when the city explodes into a kaleidoscopic whirl of even stronger surging vitality. Accepted worldwide since its recent inception, as a serious space for dialogue from which emanates a wealth of cinematic trends, the Marrakech festival is designed as the African version of Cannes’ prestigious motion picture event. Films shortlisted for the official 2003 selection, on view from October 3 to 8, rated 73 major international productions on editorial rigour, coherence and creativity.

Thanks to Aamir Khan’s Lagaan released before a highly appreciative crowd at last year’s festival here, a well-received, special Indian panorama segment found its way into this time’s programme. Chosen by Nadine Tarbouriech, project leader on a retrospective of Indian cinema from the 1930s to the present day, to unveil at the Pompidou Centre in Paris in February 2004, the schedule opened with a tribute to Amitabh Bachchan, widely hailed by Moroccans as Shouza, the fearless one! Guru Dutt, Satyajit Ray, Govind Nihalani, Gautam Ghose, Sanjay Leela Bhansali and Ramgopal Varma’s directorial talents were showcased; relatively younger talents screened included Vishal Bhardwaj, Shaad Ali, Manish Jha and Chandan Arora with Maqbool, Saathiya, Matrubhoomi and Main Madhuri Dixit Banna Chahti Hoon respectively.

Hollywood celeb-spotting threw up thespian Jeremy Irons, hunky Colin Farrell and charismatic Oliver Stone, among a host of highly feted French, Argentinian, Belgian, Iraqi and Moroccan luminaries. Like several other invitees, I was all too aware this was vintage silver screen turf – movie buffs need only remember how Peter O’Toole swanned around these sands for David Lean’s Lawrence of Arabia, besides Orson Welles shooting Othello and Scorcese his Kundun here.