Column

A strange thing happened to me last Sunday. By some complete oversight, involving some of television’s most important functionaries, I was presented with an award. Now for those of you who haven’t won any award in the past three days, and I take that as 40 per cent of you, let me recreate the atmosphere, the passion, the intensity and the ambience of the award ceremony.

It was called the IDEA ITA 7th Annual Academy Awards or as I like to call it a little succinctly the Big Tent Awards.

Now, ostensibly the awards are given for excellence in television, but I’m told in actuality it’s given for those who are bold enough to drive from Churchgate to Andheri through the Sunday evening traffic. Since very few people make this trip alive, the award is given to the brave souls who do.

I was one such soul. After the three hour trip, braving dust, debris and a curse far worse that casteism and communalism—namely rickshaws , we reached Bhavan’s College (but luckily without any inclination towards furthering our education). At one end of the college ground a huge stage was erected.

On the stage was the largest Chinese menu card you had ever seen. Was it the dinner menu? Was the show sponsored by China Garden? Was it the list of ATKT (allowed to keep terms in Bhavan’s College)? We’d never know.

The whole show was conducted like a tennis match. On one end were the two anchors, and on the opposite end two kilometers away, bypassing the menu cards, two Chinese mastiffs and the complete works of Chinaman Mao, was the audiovisual screen. The audience kept glancing from one end to another just like in a tennis match.

In between this, a parade of TV stars none fortunately known to us, kept walking in between.Some had gelled their hair, some had gelled their eyebrows and most walked like they were constipated. Also, one man had a curl of hair announcing his arrival one foot ahead of his body.

I’m told all male and female actors had compulsorily shaved their chests to improve their aerodynamics whilst accepting their awards. A chest-shaving society is a sick society, and that was my message whilst accepting my award. Sadly, no one was listening as they were all busy reading the menu card.