The biggest problem with being a major star is that everybody who has ever seen a film thinks they own them. They can comment and speculate on their lives, and in the tragic case of Sridevi, their death. Unfortunately social media has given every nut case with a net connection the right and the platform to air their views. Some of them think that by being abusive online they put celebrities in their place.
Sridevi’s untimely and shocking death let everybody unleash their theories and the one flying around was that the procedures and pills she took to look young and slim caused the heart attack that killed her. When the news about her drowning in a bathtub came out, the early theory was chucked for the one on her drinking because she was depressed. Everybody was an expert and the TV channels were the most insensitive.
But does anybody turn their gaze on to themselves ask wonder why there is pressure on all women—not just celebrities—to be eternally young and sexy? It’s worse for film stars, of course, because anyone can body shame them. If they are not perfect looking their career is kaput. If they are, then there is speculation on just what they did to attain that beauty. The cosmetic surgery industry is not booming just like that, ordinary women are going in for nips and tucks, because at the work place or in the marriage mart, they are judged only by their looks.
There are warm tributes being paid to Sridevi by her fans, but also all that ugly speculation that diminishes a woman who has achieved so much. How is it anyone’s business? On screen she was a great actress, that’s all that matters. Does it make people feel good about themselves if they believe that a successful star’s life was not as wonderful as they imagined? Particularly a female star? They have to permanently live in this heads-I-win-tails-you-lose state; they have to maintain bikini ready bodies and be prepared to be labelled sex symbol; but their photos in skimpy clothes are scrutinised mercilessly. Ironically, the sex symbol automatically curtails her own career, because once she is no longer young, she ceases to be desirable. Hollywood stars also are constantly going under the knife to improve their faces and bodies, but even if the change is there for everyone to see, they insist it’s natural. When Demi Moore married a younger man, she underwent a series of surgical procedures to look like a teenager. It’s not admirable, it’s tragic.
How does any sensible person even react to the hullabaloo created by an innocuous wink by Priya Prakash Varrier in a song from the Malayalam film, Oru Adaar Love. The clip went viral and a whole bunch of people—read men—were outraged. Some found it vulgar, some gave it a communal tint. Male stars can perform the crudest pelvic gyrations, stalk women on screen with suggestive ‘eve teasing’ songs and it’s supposed to be taken in the right spirit. Which is why singer Papon can touch a little girl inappropriately on a TV show, and then use her to defend him when there is an uproar. The poor kid repeats what she has been coached to say, and he gets away with only a social media rap on his knuckles.
So disturbing is this distorted version of ‘boys will be boys’ entitlement—on a social media platform, a seventh standard student (who must be around thirteen or so) of a Gurugram school, threatens to rape his teacher and her daughter. Another boy around the same age, sends his “hot” teachers an invitation for a candle-light date, followed by an indecent proposition.
More and more crimes of sex and violence are being committed by teenage boys—the most terrible one being the recent case of a school boy casually killing a younger kid because he wanted exams to be postponed. This kind of toxic masculinity may be glamorised by films and the media, but the mindset starts to develop right from the time parents look indulgently at their rowdy boys making a racket in a public place and breaking things, by loving calling them “little goondas,” so why are they surprised when they grow up to be big goondas? The girls are always told to sit properly and be quiet and then praised as “little angels.” We can shout from the rooftops about gender free upbringing, but when boys get guns as gifts and girls get dolls; when kids see the man of the house as more dominating than the woman, or be called hen-pecked if he is not, the trouble with perception starts right there.
The writer is a Mumbai based columnist, critic and author.
