“Don’t watch the TV from so close,” my granny used to thunder “lest you will spoil your eyesight”. Though this was back in the days of adolescence, her words still echo in my ears. Not that I was a TV buff then, at least I don’t remember to be one. However, hectic schedule has meant that my TV viewership has reached to an abyss. But whenever I have nothing more significant to do, I somehow involuntarily find myself leaning on the couch. Lying next to me and giving me good company, is the graceful curves of the TV remote. And that’s for once I have given into the human instinct of being a couch potato, and aimless gazing at the inappropriately termed ‘idiot box’. The television, TV for most, is in fact one of the historical invention to have rocked the world. The reach and the influence of it could be used for larger public good. There have been instances in the past where TV has been also related to birth control; wonder how? ;) However like many other ‘historic inventions’ TV too has attained some bad name, thanks to the ‘abuse’ of it. And that gets me to theme of this post.
As I mentioned earlier I am not an avid TV buff. And whenever I find myself in control of this priced possession of any Indian household, I find myself flipping among some news channels and onto some sports frequencies. However, while hoping among these frequencies tuned at the extreme ends; I choose to browse those all the channels in between. The reason from this action of mine eludes me for I could have comfortably skipped all the in between ‘pain’ to tune the channel I desire. Well, if you too have scanned the channels on your TV you would definitely agree to my profanation of calling it a pain.
“Excessive use of anything is abuse”, I had heard Vijay Mallya shouting this on a debate. Though he had mentioned this in context of alcohol, it perfectly fits the bill for many other things. The current (and it has been going on for years now L) trend on the TV being ‘reality TV’. And it has been stretched and re-stretched in so many different variants, that it’s hardly anything but reality. For the starters, each of these series is aped from the western counterparts. There isn’t anything wrong in copy-pasting, but before getting on such expeditions there should be a thorough understanding about the relevance in Indian context and followed by some customization to suit the local audience. However, what is happening is a blind adaptation of the original series. From the “American Idol” to “Who wants to be a Millionaire?” onto “Are you smarter than the fifth grader?” , each of these western series have appeared in their desi avatar. Though initially the rich and educative content of “Koun Banega Crorepati?” and the novelity of “Indian Idol” did strike a chord with the local audience; reality TV soon lost its sheen as such series started hogging prime time by the dozen. And not surprisingly, with the bombardment of essentially same thing with some superficial changes to elude being stereotypical, it was bound to make the audience sick.
At any given moment there are so many singing talent shows going on, luring unsuspecting Indian youth to stardom, that one needs some super power to keep a track and further differentiate between them. More over it has become such run-of-the-mill affair, that a viewer might start with watching one programme and change to some other without realizing he has switched channels. In all things, he can rest assured about not missing on any of the benevolent comments made by the supposedly learned judges, or the overtly enthusiastic pleas for votes by the anchor, or the choreographed melodrama by the participants themselves. To top this unbearable content, there is the back-stage bitching, love affair on the side-lines and controversies offstage that just adds to the pain of viewing.
Singing talent show is just a part of it; and though I hate to say it makes much more bearable than many other variants of the reality shows. Take for example these dance reality shows wherein in these supposedly celebrity, though many of the names many me wonder who?, try gyrating to the beats. Many of them remind me of physical education class, wherein we used to perform the robotic moves and there was no scope for grace or élan. To add insult to injury, comes over the top remarks by plethora of judges, many of whom ironically don’t even have any connection with the field of evaluation. Next come the laughter challenges. Such has been its proliferation of these competition that every joke is been repeated in all possible combination and permutation. All those who end up laughing are a couple of jokers who are been assigned to adjudicate the contestants. It’s a different case that the judges start to giggle long before the actual joke is delivered.
To top this all talent search competition, comes the variant which might be dubbed the mother of all reality shows. These are the shows wherein the so-called celebrities are put together and all they have to do is bitch, fight and finally survive the elimination. No marks for guessing that even these shows are been aped from the westerner, where quiet controversially our very own desi siren came up trumps. All the contestants are mostly in their twilight days of career, and they indulge in loads of manipulative games to score one up on the fellow inmate. Inmate I call it, as the show itself proclaims a subtle tagline “Who will survive in the house?”. I wondered whom do they have to survive; are there any wild beasts looming large in the precincts? On second thoughts, it’s indeed an apt tagline because surviving the fellow inmate is no less a herculean tasks.
All and all, I truly miss those beautiful days of Door-darshan. Though starved for content, it used to telecast its shows with no intrusion for the advertising hawks. There were those kiddish and very rudimentary programmes, those mega-epics which used to take from the harsh world into the land of fantasy. May be for a short time but it was a enjoyable time in front of the TV, unlike now wherein I have only one thing to say. “Enough of reality!” L
