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ShareI have watched bits and pieces of Sach ka Samna. And have been enraged at the smug little twerp who asks filthy questions, at the greedy participant who has chosen for money and infamy to reveal on national television stuff that would hurt their loved ones, at the brainless, tasteless, copy-cat producers and at a society so depraved that it will watch anything at all for titillation. And at the very idea that with enough hype and money, anything can now pass off as 'the truth'.
But do I want our Parliamentarians to stop the show? Certainly not. Our MPs have distinguished themselves with their amazingly indecent behaviour, both in the House and in the wild, and we can do without their moral policing, thank you.
They should address what they are supposed to, like hunger, healthcare, unemployment, corruption, crime and other pressing matters of human security. I want the show to die of TRP failure, starved of advertising support, not killed by government agency.
In the first place, this show has nothing to do with the truth -- it is all about feeling. It should be called Anubhav Ka Samna. Or simply Show Me Your Pain. A game of voyeurism played between a sick audience and nervous participants while trapped family and friends witness their world being cracked open on national television.
Apparently, the participant is asked a barrage of questions earlier, strapped to a polygraph, and only a few of these are asked again on the show. So either what the participant says on camera is irrelevant -- his fate is sealed by whether he had faltered or seemed to lie when he was talking to the polygraph. In which case this is a sham, and you are being fooled by this Jhoot Ka Samna. Or the show is a test of consistency -- if the participant had said 'yes' earlier and says 'no' now, never mind what the truth is, he is branded a liar.
Now your 'truth' may have nothing to do with external reality. KC Pal of Kolkata believes that the sun revolves around the earth. Ask him about the galaxy and you will get flawless, consistent answers about the earth's centrality in the universe. And the polygraph will vouch for the truth of his statements.
The polygraph is an incredibly unreliable machine, often failing truthful but nervous guys while smooth liars breeze through. If you can lie without batting an eyelid, the polygraph can't catch you. So if anyone does win the Rs1 crore jackpot, it would probably be a seasoned liar with a good memory.
Besides, reducing truths to a yes or no answer is dangerously distressing. Especially with questions like "Are you a good father?" Hesitate and you are pronounced a liar. It paints your world with a brush so thick that you can't see life through its fat, blunt strokes. It's a world where we sneer at honesty and cannot tell reality from fantasy.
Have you had lustful feelings for a woman who is not your wife? Sure. Ooohhh! Horror, horror! We forget that fantasy can be healthy, and that you are judged not by your thoughts but your acts.
So the lazy producers of this lousy show --a copy of the ghastly American Moment of Truth -- pose as cheerleaders of courage and truth while actually dishing out C-grade pulp. And I am tired of exhibitionists who want to share their seedy secrets with a
faceless national audience.
If you need to confess, go to a priest. Talk to your family. Write a diary. Get a life! Choosing to be publicly mauled by vulgar questions about your personal life is not brave, it's just pathetic.
The writer is editor, The Little Magazine
