I have never thought of myself as a diva. A diva, to me, is someone who is very talented…and also very temperamental – a person who has power and does not hesitate to use it. Come on, I am nothing like that. I am a very simple person

[Beige, crepe salwar kameez with an embroidered net jacket, by Tarun Tahiliani, at Ensemble; Gold low-heeled slippers, at Joy Shoes. Diamond chandelier earrings, pearl and diamond ring and diamond bracelets, from Arhan, at Thakorlal Hiralal]

Her return to native soil hits the front page in leading dailies. The last acknowledged female superstar of Bollywood, the woman with the smile that flashed from countless snapshots and umpteen flicks, makes heads turn, even as she steps out of an international flight in the wee hours of a Mumbai morning. The actress-diva, who inspired a movie about a naive, small-town girl who wants to be just like her – Main Madhuri Dixit Banna Chahti Hoon – is the original, blue-blooded stuff that legends are made of.

I am in her suburban flat, soaking in the serenity and simplicity of her unstarry home front. A few M.F. Husains unobtrusively dot the walls…books line a corner of the hall, while toys are scattered in another nook. A half-empty baby’s bottle stands on a glass-topped table. The house is quiet, except for the jingling ghungroos on her feet, and I watch her as she twirls and turns gracefully, deferring to the instructions of her guru, seated in front of her on a mattress. The final pranam signals the end of her riyaaz.

Her figure is naturally fuller; her face, a trifle rounder perhaps, is glowing…and her smile flashes forth again, as there is a small, but significant, addition to our gathering. Dixit’s son has just woken from his mid-morning nap and the servant brings him out to ‘mama’. He snuggles up to her, stealing shy glances at me. A few reassuring words from Dixit and he starts smiling, obviously having inherited his momma’s temperament.