Their crying is for real, so why are parents parting with their children for a reality show?
Unlike many others, who refer to them as “completely trashy shows”, I’ve always enjoyed bingeing on the junk that reality shows provide on television. I’ve loved the process of sifting through channels and somehow felt very secure cocooned in my room with a remote in my hand. “It’s for the fools, by the fools,” commented a colleague a couple of days ago when another friend and I began discussing the merit — or lack thereof — of Kamal R Khan, one of the contestants who had been ousted from Big Boss 3 after he had flung a bottle of water at another participant.
There’s certainly no way that I’d blame him — my colleague, not participant Khan, silly! — for feeling a certain way about these shows. But if the aim is to provide instant gratification to audiences, then why complain? I mean, do you really think that most contestants on Rakhi Ka Swayamvar came to marry Ms Sawant? Or, for that matter, do you really believe that someone out there really wants to marry someone as dopey as Mr Rahul Mahajan? A lot of young women will be on the show because it’ll be a platform for them to get the “big break in the industry” and not because they would do anything in front of the cameras to woo Mahajan and get married to him.
Despite all the knowledge, I’ll confess that I will be watching the show. Why? Because, like I said before, I’m “into” watching TV and all that it offers. So, armed with that very basic knowledge (for lack of a better word), I began watching Pati, Patni Aur Woh, one of the more recent reality shows on NDTV Imagine — only to find myself feeling completely yucky and uncomfortable within seconds. I had this urge to hit some of the people who were grinning stupidly at some small-screen stars and starlets after leaving their little babies with them.
For the uninitiated, the show is a desi version of Baby Borrowers, a reality series where “real” parents leave their toddlers in the care of celebrities so that audiences can judge whether the celebs are doing a fine job of bringing up their kid. The show has been a big hit in the West and, not surprisingly, even its desi version seems to be pulling in great TRPs and a growing list of advertisers who want to sponsor the show. But why is this show a rude whack-in-the-face for reality shows, despite being one itself?
The biggest problem with the show is that it doesn’t exercise freedom of expression. Decisions are taken on behalf of toddlers who naturally react in shock and horror even as they bawl, cry, kick and scream after their parents go away, leaving them with two complete strangers for more than 72 hours. “But we are monitoring our child’s movement 24x7, stationed in a room on the sets of the show,” argue these parents. Sure. But, you morons, your child doesn’t realise that, right? The crying is for real and the fear in their eyes is real too. You see, children that age cannot “act”. Their emotion is for real. The parents can stupidly cuddle them, explain “Beta, you’ll be fine,” but the truth is that with every breath they’re crying, driven to tears by the stupid, banal ambitions of their parents.
Indian reality shows have shown people eating reptiles, diving into large moth-infested bags, kicking and abusing one another, even cooking rats on one show, one is told. I haven’t watched such shows, but I think Pati, Patni Aur Woh is definitely worse than all such shows put together. Why? Because in all other shows adults make their own decisions and subsequently “decide” how much they will stoop — at times — in order to gain mileage from a televised platform. Kids, especially the toddlers on Pati, Patni Aur Woh, on the other hand, are clearly being forced to participate. The channel can argue and wield a contract, parents can argue that they know what’s best for the kid. But guess what? Your child just shed another tear. Beat that?