For someone with a weakness for Bollywood leading men and over-the-top Indian musicals, I hit the jackpot a few days ago - two almost impossibly handsome actors in the one extravaganza.
The setting for this little indulgence was a movie theatre regarded as the best in Asia - the Raj Mandir theatre in Jaipur, in India's state of Rajasthan.
The Raj Mandir is the perfect setting for Bollywood's unique style of steamy romance, melodrama and full-on dance numbers.
Although this pink concrete edifice looks somewhat art deco in style, it was in fact built in 1976.
Apparently in architectural terms the theatre is either art moderne or art metro - in my terms, stepping inside the foyer feels like waking up inside a tutti-frutti icecream.
Chandeliers, a sweeping ramp in place of a staircase (so much easier to glide elegantly on) and swirling plaster decorations in pastel shades set the scene for the theatre beyond.
I had an Emerald class ticket and, having got caught up in Jaipur's evening rush hour (which begins at about 8am), I was one of the last into the vast theatre.
Which is why there were plenty of appreciative onlookers when I sat down to encounter my first-ever sliding theatre seat that shot me forward with a crash.
But what a great idea... seats perfectly designed for semi-horizontal viewing.
When I found myself unexpectedly staring upwards I could at least pretend to admire the delicate lighting playing on the walls and decorative plaster twirls. There was a proper rouched curtain too.
It rose on the latest Bollywood sensation, Saawariya.
Saawariya is very loosely based on Dostoyevsky's White Nights. I bet the Russian writer never envisaged the singing in gondola scenes, the prostitutes' song and dance routines or the compulsory "actress in diaphanous sari caught in rain" moment.
And I, knowing that even a single peck on the lips is outlawed by Bollywood, wasn't expecting one of the lead men to perform a dance scene only partly clad in a towel. But I forced myself to watch Ranbir Kapoor in the interests of artistic research.
He was cast as the cute, boyish and rather innocent love interest, in contrast to the sultry Salim Khan who had seriously dangerous eyes. The object of both their affections was the gorgeous Rani Mukerjee.
Following the story in Hindi was not easy but when I literally lost the plot the audience was a good stand-by.
The theatre was lit by the glow of hundreds of cellphones, some of which were being used by their owners to take pictures of the leading lady.
When Rani and Ranbir came dangerously close to a kiss there was a rustle of anticipation and a gentle sigh of disappointment when the stars' lips failed to connect.
I don't know how Rani managed to resist.