Last week, two smart, good looking and ferocious lady politicians went hammer and tongs at each other during a brief but hugely scintillating Twitter exchange. They could have been Bollywood rivals sniping away after a much publicised red carpet bout of rivalry at Cannes. That they happen to be high-profile politicians, representing murderously competitive parties, made this mini-war all the more interesting. I was particularly amused by the tween-level language used.
“My bad”, taunted the minister sahiba. To which the spokeswoman added a snarky comeback, ending with “A glorious day to you, too.” While mediawallas lapped it up and were hoping the war would escalate to a full-on catfight, the two ladies abruptly backed off, and truce was declared, which was a bit of a letdown. When stars go for each other’s throats, an entire industry is born overnight. As in showbiz, so in politics, everybody loves a good war.
This weekend promises a spectacular show, as Narendra Modi’s government celebrates its two years in office. It makes me reference Bollywood all over again (impossible to avoid, since the lines are so blurred these days). Decades ago, Hindi commercial films celebrated (legitimate, not manipulated) “silver jubilees”, which meant the film had successfully crossed 25 weeks at a theatre near you. This was justly considered a milestone worth boasting about.
Rajendra Kumar was dubbed “Jubilee Kumar” since his tearjerkers managed to consistently crack the 25-week benchmark and set the box office on fire. Certain theatres were considered “lucky” and producers bagged them well in advance, sometimes before canning a single shot. Soon, audiences melted away, and television became the hot ticket when it came to cheap entertainment. TV was replaced by smartphones, and Bollywood responded to the dramatically changed parameters of judging success in its own unique and bizarre fashion, by celebrating a successful weekend at the movies. A weekend! Not even an entire week!
Something similar is happening in politics. India will go to town on Sunday when the extravaganza kicks off (with or without Amitabh Bachchan — I suspect, with!). The “cultural show” is designed to highlight the glory that is India. In effect it will showcase the glory that is Amit Shah. Ooooops! Sorry. Make that Narendra Modi. Fans will ask, “Why not?” Sure. Why ever not? Have power, have clout, have paisa — will celebrate. But it is important to define what exactly is being celebrated. Will somebody do that, please?
I have been stuck with a dud insurance policy. Nobody’s fault but my own. I was impressed with the sales pitch, I thought the salesman was honest, my own intentions were sincere and transparent. I signed the cheque. I believed I had done the smart thing, and my future was well-insured. I felt safe, and for a few short days, I even slept better at night. Till someone much smarter than dumb ole me, pointed out a couple of clauses, buried in the fine print. Apparently, despite all the assurances made, if I drop dead next year, or need expensive surgical intervention, I am not entitled to a single penny! Why? Because there was a sneaky clause involving a two-year “cooling off period”, I had not noticed in the documents I had happily signed! And, naturally, the agent had “forgotten” to tell me! Now, I am stuck! I dare not die!
Was it the agent’s fault... or my stupidity? He hadn’t put a gun to my head. I wasn’t drunk when I signed up. I was an educated, informed adult. If today, I was feeling let down, even tricked, I’d have to deal with it. The question of getting my money back was ruled out. I would have to write it off if the terms did not suit me. The agent was sheepish, but not apologetic. Had he not concealed a few key facts from me?
He shrugged and said, “But you had all the documents in your possession... you should have gone through them carefully and figured out the risks yourself.” True. Clearly, I had goofed up. But as an honourable man, should he not have assumed even a teensie-weensie bit of the responsibilty? Are you kidding? He gave me names and numbers of all the people he had sold the policy to.
“Madam... they are not fools,” he pointed out. No, of course, they aren’t. I am the fool. He shrugged indifferently, as if to say, “Sorry, you are stuck with me.” There was zero mention of making amends. Changing his methods. “This is how this game operates,” he said. Adding, “It is the biggest con in the world. But a new sucker is born everyday.” My bad. I wonder how many voters are feeling this way? While there are worthy achievements the Modi sarkar can boast about, the worrying “clauses” that have escaped under the radar, are what need to be addressed, while the roll of drums is on.
Numbers speak their own story, crow analysts, as they gleefully point to the current decimation/annihilation of the Congress Party. No quibble there. But when one looks at the bigger picture, are numbers everything? Most Bollywood superstars are smart accountants first, and actors next. They can juggle numbers like nobody else. A mediocre film, shrewdly launched with sufficient bombast, often collapses during that first critical weekend. But such is the superstar’s clout, nobody realises that in reality it has tanked, with audiences walking out during the interval.
The star has far too much riding on it, so he goes flat out to throw a celebratory party and flash clever numbers at the fans. Industrywallas know better, and snigger behind the star’s back. But countless other people are fooled into thinking the movie is a superhit. Paid reviewers generously provide endorsements and give the film a four-star rating.
The game continues. But these clever people have ignored one powerful element — word of mouth. The record books can always be manipulated. But discerning, sensitive people can’t. There’s a lesson in there for everyone: Always read the fine print. And remember, even India’s biggest Bollywood star has always had to bow down to the verdict of the audience... eventually. So, whose bad is it? Any answers?
