The affected effects of Soaps in India
I am sure each one of us have invested some part of our time watching soap and are bearing its repercussions today, knowingly or unknowingly. Well, you are not to be blamed completely. One is bound to be in a rut, sometimes. Cause for concern is the situation when you don’t realize you are being inspired by the supremely talented soap actors’ irrational arguments, unsophisticated life styles and overly dramatic dialogues. And guess what, all of this becomes a part of your living
Many of us find it to be ‘uncool’ trying to comprehend dumb storylines in which dwells layers of make -up worn by female actresses sleeping in bed, terrifying paintings and tattoos drawn on vamp performers (for god knows what reason) and each lady accessorized 24*7 with expensive jewelry & hefty outfits. ‘Well, it’s not funny, it’s not fantastic and it’s is definitely not FASHIONABLE’- Despite reminding this to yourself every time you will gradually begin to sense these ‘not-so-fashionable’ practices being followed in your surrounding by your friends, family members and sometimes your professors. Its trending, dude! And who cares about what you find to be likeable?
A normal human life gets converted to television serialistic living. Simplicity is replaced by indigestible styling sense dispersing rapidly doubled to the speed of Ebola virus spread across in Africa. Every third person around would make you realize the show still airs. Epic blast — when you spot your family members surprise you replicating their favorite characters’ appearances.
If this wasn’t enough; ringing mobile- phone tone would switch to singing title track of serial. Leisure time in offices, colleges and schools would be spent wisely either discussing a day prior’s episode narratives or running their Agatha Christie minds anticipating on the upcoming story. Such discussions would magically stretch from 10 minutes to more than an hour, just in a second!
Major annoyance is the background score of scenes. I have been a brilliant student in Sanskrit and that always let me boast about my Brahmin genes facilitating me in doing well for the subject. The reality was different. More than half the Shlokas in my Sanskrit text book were learnt watching Ms. Ekta Kapoor’s imagination projected on that 34 inch idiot box kept in a corner of my hall. Don’t judge me; I was a kid while I watched it. Also, I did not have a choice. The scenes are flashed with bulb lights simultaneous to the shlokas being chanted to the loudest of the singers’ voice with camera man repeating the same sequence thrice. There’s a recitation for a startled scene; another one indicates you of a violent act to happen, few more are chanted to exaggerate drama when daughter- in- law bombards the viewers with her sharpest dialogues and sheer over-acting pretending to be a Devi, a goddess for Hindus. This just made my academic life so smooth and adult life super entertaining.
Followed by make-up, the most visible art on actors’ face are tears. Gallons of them! As a kid, we were told by parents “Don’t cry, bad girls do it” and directors bring a contradiction to our parents’ statement making only the good girls and boys cry. They (directors) teach us “Crying is good. Helps you realize how shitty your life is. Then you cry even more, bang temple bells, threaten the gods & goddesses and expect a miracle. On sensing the miracle, you don’t stop to weep, you cry even more as you couldn’t believe your shitty life and luck just made you fortunate in few lines of threatening? Ah! God too fears you, for sure.
This is just as much as one could take and yet there’s a series of take-away from these unrealistic, undiminishing and unrelenting Indian Television Serials, only if you dare to endure it.