Craving for the local flavour, Bond rode around in an auto-rickshaw and gate crashed a local village festival of fire-breathers, hot coal-walkers, snake-charmers and sword-eaters; before braving the Indian jungle in his perfect white suit, where he was hunted by an elephant, a Bengal tiger and a crocodile, but still came out unscathed and with every strand of hair perfectly in place.
My favourite scene was undoubtedly the one where the vampish Miss Magda, after stealing the Faberge from Bond’s pocket, delicately tied the pallu of her saree to the balustrade, leaped over the balcony and exquisitely twirled out of it, to be received on the ground by an exiled Afghan prince who wrapped a silk robe around her shoulders and whisked her away. Wow.
Somewhere in the film our exiled Afghan prince, Kamal Khan declares: Mr. Bond indeed is a very rare breed, soon to be made extinct….
Naturally he realized the folly of that statement, and not long after, he remarked: You (Bond) have a nasty habit of surviving.
Oh yes he does. And with lots of saddies like me rooting for the eternality of Bond, I think he will thrive for a long, long time :)