5 Indian TV obsessions we can do without
What? Senseless soaps
Kyunkii Saas Bhi Bahu Thi's success spawned thousands of saas bahu clones that rotate on various national channels during prime time, their most essential characters being a cruel-and- conniving saas, pure-as-a-mandir bahu, plotting-but-inexperienced jethani and green-with-envy badi bahu.
The men are reduced to lugging briefcases around and attending important board meetings about nothing in particular.
They are forever dressed in oversized, stuffy suits, even in hot weather, except for the occasional dandiya raas when they prance around in ethnic kedias; or an elaborate wedding that calls for a churidar kurta.
We hope the anti-saas bahu soap protests work, and they finally come to an anticipated end.
What? Overdramatised talent hunts
What did Sony's Fame Gurukul have that Indian Idol did not?
Contestants who cried their eyes out when eliminated, played to the gallery and begged the judges on their knees; ugly verbal duels between the judges and loud anchors.
Little wonder then, that after a faltering start, the show became a household name thanks to debate over one flamboyant contestant's talent (or lack of it).
Fame Gurukul succeeded though it had little different to offer. Zee TV's Sa Re Ga Ma Pa, Cinestars Ki Khoz and various other talent hunts seem to be sob-till-you-drop and stage-a-walkout formula with decent success.
Their time will come when viewers see through the wafer-thin plot, and demand honest judges and contestants who will forget the drama and just GET ON WITH IT!
What? Greed-inducing game shows
We don't have a problem with the fact that they hawk one of the seven deadly sins —greed — or that middle class citizens get rich quick. But do you have to peddle dreams like carrots on a stick? Game show winners became local heroes, whose stories are then sold to millions of struggling viewers, egging them on to chase the prize.
Star One Super Sale winner Rahuul Khanna gathered public sympathy when he declared that he would sell the Merc he bagged to treat his thalassemic son. Host Sajid Khan spent 20 minutes of airtime driving him around in the luxury car.
It later turned out that Rahuul had separated from his wife and son two years ago, and did not spend a single paisa on the boy. Yet, Kam Ya Zyaada, Deal Ya No Deal and their ilk continue to make rats out of our race.
What? Air-kissing talk shows
Mutual admiration that borders on psychological fellatio. High society mwah-mwahs, dahling this... and dahling that... which turn you off. Endless chatter, the sole aim of which is for the host and guest to be in each others' good books. Enough already!
From the sugary sweet Rendezvous With Simi Garewal, dainty Manish Malhotra Show to the unintentionally funny RKB show, talk shows have been reduced to time slots where out-of-work filmstars wax not-so-eloquent and busy actors sell their new releases, corporates advertise brands and models get exposure.
Some more of the bi*******-of-em-all Koffee With Karan, anyone?
What? Plain Jane sob-stories
You can't say Jassi Jaisi Koi Nahi any more, because the ugly-duckling-turned-swan copy of a Spanish soap-turned-sob saga reproduced other copies when it went off air.
So, while the unpolished Pooja from Ye Meri Life Hai was ragged for being a behenji, the perfectly good looking Saloni from Saat Phere is traumatised for being dusky and Bani from Kasamh Se has to marry the man her sister is betrothed to and get flak from his high class family.
Meanwhile Ananya from Ek Ladki Anjaani Si who had everything going for her, became pregnant through "misplaced" artificial insemination. They start off as stories about female emancipation, but end up being sob sagas about the chase for a husband and acceptance by his family. Enough already! |