You cannot handle the truth.
–A Few Good Men
Yes we cannot. I agree with the honorable MPs from Samajwadi Party and the BJP and the MLAs from Madhya Pradesh that “truth” is against Indian culture.
Indeed the very concept should be banned.
And so should “Sach Ka Samna” since it claims to be based on the truth.
This is why I so much love our politicians. At a time when the nation is under attack from multiple agents ranging from Pakistan to Rakhi Sawant, they still remember to use their time in Parliament to do things that truly matter, insulating us from influences that seek to corrupt and defile us.
Because “Sach Ka Samna” is an abomination. Khulbushan Kharbanda’s character in Gupt said “Kuch baatein gupt raheni chahiye”. Some things are best kept secret. For instance, I think the nation needed to be protected from recurring mental images of Vinod Kambli running naked for 100 metres on a dare from Sachin, of Urvashi Dholakia, famous for her role in the “sleeper” (literally) international hit , the innovately titled “Chumban the Kiss” doing soo-soo in swimming pool and of a desperately old cad confessing to stealing bedsheets from a hotel.
Another thing that I personally need to be protected from is the realization that we as a nation are as bad as the worst of them when it comes to totally debasing ourselves for a few seconds in the limelight. In 1999, when I came to the US one of the things I truly enjoyed, before going for my 9:30 morning class on Formal Languages and Automata Theory was to watch “Jerry Springer” over a bowl of Raisin Bran. For those of you who have not yet had the delight of experiencing “Jerry Springer” it is a “reality talk” show where guests come on and reveal their most intimate secrets to their loved ones. Secrets like a woman confessing to her husband of five years that she really is a man (don’t ask) or a man telling his wife on the show that he has been sleeping not only with the wife’s sister but with also her brother. The audience of course was most sympathetic, usually goading the participants to throw chairs at each other or shouting in unison “take it off” if any of the woman guests caught their fancy (there were even two stripper poles kept next to the stage just in case). And yes the guests usually obliged the audience chants.
“Jerry Springer” was a guilty pleasure. For one, it was good to know that there existed a group of people whose life was even more screwed up than mine was. Second it gave me a fuzzy “feel-good” that publicity-seeking mad-men who would bring out their worst secrets on national TV for the 15 seconds of fame it afforded them could only be found in the “West” and that in India no one would be as crazy as to voluntarily come on TV to discover things like who his real father on live TV or who actually impregnated his wife or to find out his grandpa’s darkest secret (namely that he does midget adult movies)
Well not any more.
Now thanks to reality TV like “Sach Ka Samna” we are forced to accept as fact what we have slowly come to suspect over the past few years— that average Indian is as much taken with the idea of infamy as their brethren across the ocean, as willing to besmirch their names in front of the world as anyone else (Remember that “truth” is often not owned by just the person revealing it—there may be other people associated with the shocking truth whose reputations are also being ripped on TV without them having any say in the matter)
This is why, in order to keep up appearances of decency and to suppress the truth about ourselves, that I demand (like our most wise politicians) that “Sach Ka Samna” be banned.
Till that happens though, I will keep tuning in. Cause it’s jolly good fun.