THERE is the aroma of tea brewing in John Abraham�s house. I am a connoisseur of teas. Especially the Ceylon variety. And this tea, I recognise from the heady fragrance wafting in through the kitchen, is actually from the island nation. It helps, also, that I know John returned from Sri Lanka after a two-week shoot there for Mira Nair only the previous night. His mother, Phiroza, an elegant and handsome Parsi-Irani lady, now graciously comes out of the kitchen with the tea for Farzana Contractor and me. I was right. It is Ceylon tea. �John loves tea, he brought back so many boxes of this,� the mother tells us pleasantly.

John, meanwhile, is entering the house dressed in figure-hugging blue jeans and a khaki short sleeves shirt. Girls will say that even at spitting distance, he is a dreamboat of a man. I wouldn�t. But, yes, he is certainly a hunk. All 6 feet 1 inch and 80 kilos of him. The body is lean, finely chiselled and muscular. But the muscles are not in your face. They ripple comfortably beneath his shirt. And the hair, which is what stands him out among Bollywood�s well-coiffured macho men, is long and wild and pushed to the back of his head with fingers. Little more of it and he could tie a pony-tail. I don�t think John has ever used a comb.

He enters the hall where we are having tea, his tea, and plonks himself on a sofa. �Mom,� he yells, �get the biscuits, the chocolate biscuits, get everything!� The Abrahams live in Bandra just off Pali Hill where half of old Bollywood resides. The house is simply, but tastefully and comfortably done up. John�s father, I think, who is an architect, is responsible for this. There are stuffed toy dogs everywhere in the hall. And statuettes of dogs. His mother loves dogs, especially strays, and is in the habit of feeding them whenever she can. There are paintings on the walls, lithos they seem, and a bookshelf packed with somebody�s eclectic reading habits.

John shares a bedroom with brother Alan. It is a bachelors� room with bunks for beds, clothes lying all over the place, books, weights, a bicycle, a picture of himself on the wall taken by Subi Samuel, and the afternoon sun streaming in from a little balcony. On the floor is the luggage that he brought home from Sri Lanka the night before. John is up on his feet and heading for the kitchen, he is looking for something to eat. He walks like he is on the ramp, with a loose and confident swagger, the jeans riding low on his hips and sweat glistening on his torso. He has stripped off his shirt. Which is not unusual. Most men do that once they are home.

He finds Mrs. Abraham in the kitchen, cooking. He peers into the pots on the gas, stirs a tentative spoon in one of them, then proceeds to set Mama up for a fight! I see that this is an item between them. A WWF kind of tackle-and-take down. They grapple and belabour each other playfully. He grabs her in a headlock and pretends to swing haymakers at her face. She giggles and slaps him away. And then puts a bowl of fruit into his hands. Freshly cut watermelon. And luscious mango. John sprawls out on the kitchen floor, leans on the fridge, and begins eating. �He is very friendly and playful, he will make friends with anybody,� the mother tells me proudly.

But I am there to talk about food, John�s eating habits, and his mother�s cooking that went into the making of the hunk. �He loves eating home-cooked food,� she says. �But now he is hardly at home. His favourite food is Parsi. He likes Dhansak, Patra-ni-Macchi and Prawn Patia.� This is news to me. �Isn�t he vegetarian,� I ask her amazed. �Yes, he turned vegetarian in 1999. Before that, he would eat everything. More fish than mutton and chicken. Never pork. But I don�t cook fish at home. He has to eat his Patra-ni-Macchi and Prawn Patia at the lagan nu bhonus in Parsi weddings! We go for several Parsi weddings and navjots. And John will run for chairs at the banquets so that we can catch the first dinner sitting!�

Mama Abraham says John likes vegetables the way she cooks them. �Especially karela, which I season with ginger-garlic, turmeric, chilli powder, onions and cook in tomato juice over a slow fire. I soak the karela to take out the bitterness. He is also fond of palak dal, paneer, masoor dal cooked the Parsi way. I also do lots of leafy salads and fruit juices for him. Carrot juice he can drink any time. And tea! He drinks lot of it. For breakfast, he will have these channa atta omelettes made with the whites of four eggs. Can John cook? Not at all! He did try once or twice. He�s got good tastebuds. He can identify foods. And he�s fussy about his eating habits. But he can�t cook. He can act. I like him in his films. I think he�s acted so well in all of them.�

The actor is listening to his mother indulgently. I challenge his claims to being vegetarian. �What about the Patra-ni-Macchi and Prawn Patia,� I say. �And why did you become a vegetarian?� John is non-plussed. �Why,� he asks. �Well, why not! One fine day, I just decided to become vegetarian. This was not because of PETA (People for Ethical Treatment of Animals, whose cause he champions) or for any other reason. I figured the day I missed being non-vegetarian, I would go back. But so far I have not felt the need to.

I don�t miss chicken and meat. But I eat fish because I need food for my muscles. No vegetarian meal can give you all the proteins you need. I have never taken steroids. I am proud to come clean. Do you know that Sylvester Stallone, whose film Rocky IV inspired me to start working out, takes 66 pills a day!�

He talks about his workouts. He was never a cardio person. No running or walking. Though lately, he has started using a treadmill, burning upto 350 kilo-calories in 30 minutes and running upto 4 kilometres. �I believe in isometric exercises. I carry my own weight, I like doing push-ups and pull-ups. But I get a thrill out of raw metal! I like the feel of picking it up, of pumping iron. But I�m not into that one-body-part-a-week programme. I do three body parts a day! I make my own permutations and combinations. Pervez Mistry, the karate guru, fixed me up with the right workout routine. This was even before I got into Gladrags. I follow his routine even today. In a few weeks, it guarantees the perfect body. And I go to whichever gym is close by. Sometimes Zaf, sometimes Gold, they are happy to have me. I workout twice a week. Earlier, it was five times. But now I am shooting 24/7. There�s no time to workout!�

Fortunately, John is disciplined about his eating habits. �I cut the cloth to suit my length and line! I don�t smoke, I don�t drink, I don�t go to discos. I live within my means. If I drink a glass of wine, I get a headache! But once a month, I�ll have half a glass of champagne. Even when I�m flying. Then I crash out. I don�t know what happens to me!� he explains. He is blessed with a high metabolism and burns off whatever he eats. His favourite food is home food. �Lots of home food, whatever Mom makes, Dhansak, Dal-Chawal, I like rice, it is our staple diet, and I like eggs, Parsis put egg on everything. I used to put away a crazy amount of home food. But now I have cut down. I remember going to these unlimited thali restaurants like Purohit, Status, Panchavati with friends and eating 25-30 of those small rotlis at one time! Tired of serving us, the waiters would say, Chawal, pulao, bhi hai,� he reveals.

But now, he has to work at being John Abraham, the new hunk on Bollywood�s block. Lunch, he regrets, is most often on a film set. �The food is pathetic,� he grimaces, �it is so tasty and so unhealthy! So I order salads from out. Or a bowl of fruit. Dinner is also fruit, and pulses, perhaps some tea with honey. I drink lots of tea, upto 30 cups a day, I am an addict.� But occasionally, he likes to cut loose. And then he binges on Thai food, which is his favourite cuisine after Indian. �By Indian, I mean Parsi or Kerala food. I think Kerala food is the world�s most exotic. I love puttus and appams. And Parsi food at weddings! I eat heartily. It is such opulent food.�

We are onto our third cup of tea each. And I can see John in an addict. Not just of tea, but also chocolate biscuits! He sits with the tin open, hand dipping in constantly. He notices my observation and grins easily. �I don�t starve myself,� he says. �Chocolate biscuits are a weakness. And Kaju Katli, my God, I can have upto a kilo easily!� I ask him whether he can cook a meal himself. He looks at me incredulously. �Cook, not at all! But basic stuff, noodles and eggs and all, that I can do. And I�m sure I can do more, but I have never really tried.�