Fadeout blues

FREEZE FRAME

The way of life is the same, reel or real.

Time is a cruel thief to rob us of our former selves .We lose as much to life as we do to death.

"� Elizabeth Forsythe Hailey

The recent death of actress Parveen Babi had the media lament about Bollywood's callous indifference to one of its erstwhile stars. This is not the first time such an accusation has been made. Just a few months ago, Suraiya, the sultry siren of the '50s, breathed her last amidst similar ignominy.

Well, that's the harsh reality. No one cries for a forgotten hero. Politicians, scholars, litterateurs, sportsmen, social reformers, industrialists, artistes have all faced a lonely death once past their prime.

The larger-than-life images of the noontime sun turns into phantoms of the night once the power abates. People walking on the rainbow of fame and adulation seldom realise the very ephemerality of it all.

So is showbiz more apathetic than other professions? Perhaps yes. But then there is nothing headier than stardom. And loneliness is a by-product of the adulation.

A few decades ago, the film industry was agog with sordid tales of many a star living and dying in penury. I have known of renowned filmmakers unable to afford medical treatment.

Even some unfortunate yesteryears' superstars have had to beg for help from some of their more fortunate contemporaries or other benefactors.

The early days of showbiz in India were pretty much like California's gold rush. All and sundry made a beeline to the dream factories of Bombay (they still do) with little or no talent.

Or sometimes, merely talent and a lot of gullibility. Some came from dubious backgrounds with little education, and easily fell prey to the extravagance and vice bred in Bollywood.

There was ostentation, chicanery and, very often, a vulgar display of riches. A transient career and no financial planning meant a one-way trek "� from the marquee straight to isolation and oblivion.

They were surrounded by a miasma of memories, tattered press clippings and jaded trophies. The hangers-on left. The part invites stopped coming.

Worst of all, the flash bulbs no longer glared. Life, which was once nurtured by applause, crawled through an abyss of anonymity.

Death came at its own pace compelling people to live a life of want and indigence for years. They were forgotten till an obit somewhere brought forth a few nostalgic tributes.

And if the star had some stature in the bygone days, there would be a token message of condolence from an appropriate government functionary.

Over centuries, several personages have passed on in anonymity "� only to surface years later in some researcher's tome or rescued from a forgotten archive for a retrospective.

This was the norm before the Byte Age arrived. Not only did entertainers have to jostle with an ever-increasing fraternity, but with a plethora of media.

Newspapers and TV channels are in a constant quest to cover events. So every death, especially of a forgotten celebrity, becomes an occasion to feast on airtime.

This race to grab eyeballs resurrects many a forgotten personality. It is the omnipresence of the media, which hyperventilates a sense of neglect and dejection about lonely stars. What people tend to forget is that there are millions of lonely people around the world who have in their own ways become heroes to some.

How many of us mourn the death of the class two teacher whom we idolised in our childhood? Or even shed a tear for our 'bestest' friend from our teens? Showbiz, Bollywood and Hollywood have little time for forgotten scenes of forgotten hits.

Today's stars are financially better organised, and one rarely hears of a filmstar being in dire straits. Yet, in a country like India, where there is hardly any social infrastructure for senior citizens, or people with special needs that the absence of a family often leads to extreme isolation.

This is more pronounced in creative fields "� art, music, films "� where we have seen over-the-hill masters cling on to the craggy ledge of past glory, in the fervent hope of some present day acknowledgment.

That's why I never grudge a 'Lifetime Achievement Award' presented to a stalwart.

The proliferation of channels also means that the 'now' generation gets a chance to see old films, listen to old music and get to know people of an earlier era.

On the other hand, a better management of intellectual property rights and deployment of new technologies are offering some financial succour to a few hard-up artistes through recycling of their creativity.

But many iconic people fail to nurture human relationships.

At least now the media, in spite of cynicism, voyeurism and sensationalism, are bringing into focus faded faces, jaded images and forgotten myths. Lucky are those who get accolades in their lifetime.

A few achieve fame posthumously. A handful have mourners who weep on their death. And only the exceptional are remembered for posterity.

This is the way life is, real or reel.

(Amit Khanna is chairman of Reliance Entertainment. The views expressed here are his own)