In the heat generated by the various scams and allegations of corruption at high levels, many other issues have not got the attention they deserve. One such is the rising criticism of reality shows like Rakhi ka Insaaf and Bigg Boss. Many are getting concerned at the shocking content of such programmes — the former, which is about

summary justice doled out by a loud Rakhi Sawant has even been blamed for causing the suicide of a participant. On the latter, a motley group of almost famous and notorious characters, including a former dacoit (Seema Parihar), a petty thief who was asked to leave the show in the first week itself (Bunty), and a loudmouth woman whose vocabulary seems to consist of only bad language (Dolly Bindra), are in their element as they try to make themselves interesting. How low can these channels go in their bid to attract TRPs, is the question that is being asked.
We have been here before. In 1991, soon after the first Gulf War brought satellite television into our homes, thus breaking the monopoly of Doordarshan, Star TV of Hong Kong launched its service with a whole bouquet of entertainment programmes. There was music, there was dance and there were the soaps. Music videos became the rage on Channel V. Star Plus gave us sitcoms and soaps, usually a few years old in the US but still fresh and dazzlingly new for us.
One of the shows was The Bold and the Beautiful, a daytime soap opera about the goings on in a California family, the Forresters, who were in the fashion business. The stars were uniformly good looking, the sets were opulent and stylish and the storylines were, well, complicated. There were love affairs, break ups, jealousies and intrigue galore. And there was… kissing. For the first time, audiences saw kissing scenes on the small screen, beamed right there in their living rooms.
The government was already concerned about the attack on DD’s monopoly by satellite broadcasters; when some people began complaining about this attack on Indian culture, it was forced to sit up and take notice. All kinds of proposals were discussed, including investing in equipment to jam the signals. The moralists were outraged and housewives were quoted as saying they could no longer watch television along with their families.
How quaint those days seem. Kissing on television is hardly noticed now; much worse (in a manner of speaking) is now available on the box, to say nothing of the Internet. Parents can’t, even if they want to, stop their kids from watching adult films; they are so freely available.
The interesting point is that much of the muck on television today is not from abroad; it is by Indian producers made for Indian audiences. Each passing day brings a new abomination which touches a new low.
Take Rakhi ka Insaaf. The show is a cross between two American concepts, Judge Judy and the Jerry Springer Show. The first has a genuine judge who arbitrates on petty matters between two people. Her style is usually that of a strict law officer with dollops of common sense and grandmotherly strictures. Her verdict is final. The ambience and mood is almost like a real court, with all the attendant formalities.
The Jerry Springer Show is much more raucous. Issues such as homophobia, illicit affairs, incest are freely discussed; no perversity is too shocking to be aired. The participants come from the lower strata of society — commonly called trailer trash — and are seemingly chosen for their sheer vulgarity, in looks, appearance and language. Half way through the show it usually gets into the two sides hitting each other (literally) and then someone or the other takes off their clothes. It has been called the worst show in the world, and it is a badge the producers wear with honour.
By comparison Rakhi ka Insaaf is much milder, but for how long? We have already seen people hitting each other. Fights break out on Bigg Boss all the time. The objective is clear — make it loud, make it nasty and the TRPs will follow.
Should we be concerned? Taste is in the eyes of the beholder, so setting objective standards is never going to be easy and certainly not by the government. Plus, nobody wants censorship. In the simpler 1990s too the proposal to somehow jam the shows was discarded, not the least because government censorship is anathema in a free society. But then what can be done to prevent such cheap programming?
Any change can only come about when the two most important components in the television equation — the viewers and the advertisers — show their disapproval, the first by tuning off from such shows and the latter by withdrawing sponsorship. When marketers see that TRPs are falling (and they will, once every cheap trick in the book has been utilised), they will pull out which, in turn, will force producers to try other types of programming. That may not happen for a long time, so brace yourself for even more schlock and sleaze on your television sets.

The writer is a senior journalist and commentator on current affairs based in Mumbai