I've been feeling a bit low these last few months, enveloped in a feeling of missing out on something, what the acronym generation would term FOMO- Feeling Of Missing Out, but is actually more of FOBLO- a Feeling Of Being Left Out. Somewhat like Sanju Samson being left out of the team for the first few matches of the T20 World Cup. Let me explain.
The author and blogger Manu Joseph is someone I admire; he has an innovative mind, an imagination that soars like a hypersonic missile, and he thinks out of the box. In a recent blog he explained how hard it now is for the "uber wealthy" to maintain their distinct social status above the humbler "very wealthy". Till now this was done by buying status symbols like designer and bespoke cars, flats in Dubai, annual trips to Biarritz, bouncers in black Tee shirts, luxury yachts and arm candy from Italy. Economists call these Veblen goods, where the higher the price the higher is the demand for them. They confer status. Not any more. With ordinary millionaires now mushrooming like bhakts at a Modi rally in Houston, the uber rich billionaires have now lost their exclusivity or uniqueness. Anyone from Karol Bagh who does not pay his GST (which includes everyone in KB) can now buy what was once the exclusive preserve of the billionaires. Let me pursue Manu Joseph's idea.
The bar for the uber rich is getting higher with every turn of the cronyism cycle. Therefore, to maintain their social distance and snobbery, they are resorting to outlandish strategems, indulging in extreme ventures. Like paying 55 million dollars for a trip to space on SpaceX or Virgin Atlantic, or 5 million dollars for diving down to the Titanic in a submersible, or buying a plot of land on the dark side of the Moon (which Trump will probably acquire once he has had his Joline moment with Cuba.) So strong is the pressure to be "different" that it does not seem to matter that they may not survive these ventures!
But-and here's the interesting part- the uber wealthy celebrities in Hollywood and other red carpet bastions of showbiz want no part of risking life and limb to be different. In fact, they go to the other extreme- they insure their limbs instead, for mind boggling sums! Julia Roberts's smile is insured for US$ 30 million, Ronaldo and Beckham have insured their legs for 117 and 70 million respectively, Taylor Swift for 40 million (quite under priced, in my view). But this pales into spindly insignificance in front of Mariah Carey's legs which command $ 1 billion. Really, are those legs or ATMs? Bringing up the rear, however, is this piece de resistance: Kim Kardashian's buttocks are insured for 21 million, but even this is not within touching distance of Jennifer Lopez's derriere which is insured for 300 million. Gives an entirely new flavour to that immortal Americanism: "Kiss my a**e !"
In India, however, our crorepati showbiz celebrities in Bollywood are more pragmatic and parsimonious. They have started acquiring their exclusive status by a less expensive method- by claiming "personality rights" which no one else can usurp. All it requires is a ten rupee stamp paper and an unemployed lawyer. No wonder these days there is a virtual flood of these petitions in courts. Personality Rights (PR) protects an individual's public persona and identity- voice, image, likeness, mannerisms- from unauthorised commercial exploitation. This list of protectees now threatens to exceed the protectees under the Z category of the Home Ministry, and includes Abhishek Bachchan, Aishwarya Rai, Anil Kapoor, Karan Johar, Shahrukh Khan and Daler Mehndi. So now you can't sing like Asha Bhonsle, build biceps like Salman Khan, smirk like Karan Johar, bat your eyelids like Aishwarya Rai or say KHAMOSH like Shatrughan Sinha (I'm not joking- a court has just ordered that he has the rights over that expression). Very soon, you'll not be able to hug like Mr. Modi or do a padyatra like Rahul Gandhi, cough like Kejriwal, employ MS Dhoni's "helicopter shot", deliver sermons like Mr. Jaishankar or expose your six-packs like the King Khan while spreading your arms in the Titanic pose. The message going out is simple and clear- if you've not had your PR protected by a court, you don't count.
It goes without saying that our courts are going overboard on this matter, which is a tussle between the right to privacy and the freedom of expression. The point is: if Salman Khan flexes his pectorals in a Pan masala ad, or Shilpa Shetty swings her derriere down a ramp, or KR Rehman croons in an auditorium - all this is done in public, is in the public domain. They voluntarily gave up their right to privacy to earn a few millions, so how can emulating them, talking about it or making memes or sarcastic comments about them constitute a violation of their PR? Next we'll have Keshto Mukherjee seeking PR protection for acting drunk in public, or Mr. Nitish Kumar claiming a patent for political defection, or Kangana Ranaut claiming that no one is allowed to speak English in that delightful Pahari- Convent school accent!
But I'm not waiting for the courts to get their act together: I've decided to apply for protection of my own personality rights so that my editors and publishers treat me with some respect. Problem is, my wife Neerja says I have no personality except that of a proboscis monkey, these monkeys are already in zoos (maybe a few in some forests too), and therefore these looks belong to the Great Apes, not homo sapiens, and so they cannot be protected. But I disagree. From certain angles, and in subdued lighting, I have an uncanny resemblance to Mr. Bean, and can therefore seek protection as a Mr. Has- Been. Cheaper than insuring my legs or patootie, what?
Did I hear someone titter? KHAMOSH !
I wonder why no one has commented on your rather hilarious post. Reading it, I was reminded of an interesting anecdote that I had once read about Alexander Dumas.
ReplyDeleteDumas was once asked by a very irritable man if it was true that he is an octroon. “Yes” replied Dumas. “And what was your father?” the man asked. “A quadroon” Dumas replied. “And your grandfather?”. “A mulatto,” said Dumas. “And his father?” asked the insufferable one. “A negro” came the reply. As if this wasn’t enough, “and his father” the persistent inquisitor asked. “An ape Sir” thundered Dumas, “an ape. My pedigree commences where yours terminates.”
I now think that this is true for most of the celebrities far and near, who have the audacity to insure the various parts of their anatomies, and not content with that, patent their antics too? What is the world coming to?
A very amusing anecdote, Mr. Shariff, but with a lot of embedded truth in it ! Let me add to it with this interesting observation I came across recently: it took 40000 years for the ape to become homo sapiens, but it takes just two bottles of beer for him to become an ape again! Of course, this does a lot of disservice to the apes, but the meaning is clear!
ReplyDeleteAs far as the lack of comments is concerned, I feel this is a part of the dumbing down of intelligence these days. People are more interested in politics and scandals and religious diatribes, and we Indians lack a sense of any humour other than the ribald and slapstick varieties. But a few are still holding out, hoping for a new dawn.
Mr. Shukla appears to be alluding to a rather fashionable stratagem among the cognoscenti: first, commodify one’s personality industriously for decades; then, having promoted it nicely, seal it - lest lesser mortals nibble at it through imitation.
ReplyDeleteThis instinct to privatise persona is curious, because it seems to run against the very composition of fame. What is fame if it does not spread like a contagion? In the not-so-distant past, one recalls with fond indulgence the nasal villainy of Jeevan, the slurred inebriation of Keshto, the operatic grief of Dilip Kumar - styles so distinctive that they have long escaped their origins to now course through the public’s blood. They were imitated, embellished, parodied, and passed down for generations. That was not theft; it was a tribute to the originator’s flourish with a sense of mischief and unbound affection.
Even the greats have not been above such pickpocketing. Entire careers were scaffolded on the mannerisms of those who came before them. The pelvic side-shifts of Bhagwan Dada were - by his own admission - taken by Bachchan whose own fame has subsequently reached stratospheric heights. One doubts if the custodian of that motion ever rushed to Bachchan clutching a writ of estoppel after those moves became legendary. Imitation, once the sincerest form of flattery, is suddenly being recast as a trespass. A drunk bellowing “Jhakaaaas" may stare at a cease-and-desist notice from Anil Kapoor on coming into sobriety.
Nearer home, one observes Narendra Modi’s monthly radio broadcast neatly replicated by one smart but isolated politician who has resorted to vlogging with ferocious intensity. In his 84th or 85th year of unstoppable youth, he has perfected the technique of platforming. Brimming with motivation, he makes reels and labels them “Mani ki Baat…”, a direct lift from his bête noire’s radio address! Is this aping, or a cheerful audacity that has elbowed out any form of past rivalry altogether?!
Fame does not grow by restriction. It must seep through public imagination. Lock it, and it becomes irrelevant.
Mr. Shukla has selected his subject well and skewered it even better!
Very well encapsulated,.Mr Patankar. Except perhaps the familiar jibe at Mani Shankar Aiyar, whose intellect is quite a few notches above he-who-cannot-be -named. Mani discusses issues with experts on his podcasts, he does not deliver one way monologues like the non-biological-wonder.
ReplyDeleteIt is noted how Mr. Shukla leaps in feebly but surely to add a word in edgeways whenever Mr. Mani Shankar Aiyar is mentioned in the comments to his blog.
DeleteOne wonders if he is protecting the personality rights of Mr. Mani Shankar Aiyar, or sequestering his blog from the personality of Mr. Mani Shankar Aiyar!