Truth Will Out

It seems that people who make Hindi movies, do so successfully, i.e. make movies that make money for the makers, have been doing so for many years, with actors vying for getting roles in their movies, do not value talent. They routinely ignore talent, ignore suitability of actors for roles in their movies, and instead cram their movies with untalented actors, typically younger relatives of people already working in the film industry. Their main objective is to make movies that will fail.

Not only do they not value talent, they also have no ability to judge the ability of actors. It is actually the common man, or other actors who do not get roles in these movies, who are the best judges of an actor’s ability and suitability for a role in any movie.

These people, the people who make Hindi movies successfully, are not running businesses or business organisations. They are actually running charities whose job it is to continuously scan the market for everyone just got off the train from Patna or Hyderabad or Ambala or Chittorgarh or Dhanbad, at Dadar or Chatrapati Shivaji Terminus (CST), with stars in their eyes, dreaming of making it big in the film industry, enable them to realise their dreams by casting them in their movies over other actors who may be more suitable for the role, especially if these other actors happen to be younger relatives of people already in the industry. All million of them who are estimated to arrive in Mumbai every year to make it as big as Amitabh Bachchan or Shahrukh Khan.

Adults, the million who come to Mumbai every year to be a part of the world of movies, come armed with a right, somewhat equivalent to the right of first refusal, for movie roles, especially in movies made by repeatedly successful producers and production houses who make movies that make money and who have no value for talent. This right makes it a duty of producers to give roles to people from outside the industry who have come there forsaking family and other opportunities, before they even begin to consider actors who have been associated with the industry far longer or are younger relatives of people in the industry, and do so repeatedly, till they are as successful as imagined by them before embarking on the journey.

It is unfortunate that these lessons have been learnt in the immediate aftermath of the death of Sushant Singh Rajput, a popular young actor in Hindi films, who apparently committed suicide over a month back. He may not have been in the top rung of stars, but he would certainly be considered an aspirant for the top rung. Wildly successful. What would one call a guy who just showed up from wherever he was and in about ten years played several lead roles in Hindi movies, yes Hindi movies, including that of India’s cricket captain, in a movie on his life. Who apparently had 15 crores (about USD 2 million) in his bank account that was seemingly transferred out. 15 crores sitting in the account? More than what 99% of Indians will earn in a lifetime. Remember ten years back he was perhaps one of the million who arrived at Dadar or CST. Unusually academically bright. He dropped out of the undergraduate engineering programme he was enrolled in at one of the top engineering colleges in India to make a life in the movies. As most will understand, a necessary precondition for dropping out of an academic programme is to have secured admission to it first. Through perhaps one of the most challenging academic entry paths in the world.

Likely candidate for a suicide?

Shakespeare would be proud. Unlike the ghost of Hamlet’s father who kept appearing only to his son Hamlet, Rajput’s ghost seems to be appearing to several near and dear ones.

To his girlfriend, exhorting her to write to the Union Home Minister, to seek help in understanding what led him to take the extreme step.

To his father, exhorting him to file a First Information Report (FIR) with the police authorities of Bihar, where he lives, a thousand miles away where, and not Mumbai, where he chose to reside and make a life, against his girlfriend, contending, among other things, that she had befriended Rajput to further her own career.

To the Enforcement Directorate (ED), the feared central agency, whose cases hold suspects guilty till proved innocent, and not the other way round as in the case of normal criminal proceedings, exhorting them to initiate proceedings under the Prevention of Money Laundering Act (PMLA).

To the Chief Minister of Bihar, exhorting him to offer help in requesting the Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI), the other feared central investigating agency, to take over the case if the family requests, even while the earlier request for CBI’s involvement, apparently made by the girlfriend, seems to have fallen on deaf ears.

To his sister, exhorting her to write to the Prime Minister requesting his intervention in ensuring justice is done.

And leading to more lessons for the common man.

It is a part of the Home Minister’s job to help people understand the reason for a near and dear one taking the extreme step. One can involve the Home Minister and Prime Minister in solving wrongdoing by any authority in the country by posting messages on Twitter with hashtags like #VandeMataram and #SatyamevJayate. Much like Indians in distress overseas could post to the Twitter handle of the then Foreign Minister who would, in a blaze of media glory, rescue the people in distress. The nation does not need any other process to make justice available to the common man and let him sleep in peace. Except a few Twitter handles.

ED is a vigilant organisation. If there is a possibility of misappropriation of 15 crore Rupees (USD 2 million) in a case of death seen as a suicide, they will jump in. Wrongdoers, be warned! People with suicidal tendencies, don’t take the final step unless you have 15 crore Rupees in your bank account.

Adults can be befriended by members of the opposite sex at will, to advance their own career, and they will have no say in the matter. Adults who have probably been considered responsible and mature and allowed to lead an independent life.


Aishwarya, here I come. To use you for furthering my career in Hindi movies. You have no choice in the matter. Or should I target Alia Bhatt? There is a much greater age difference between me and her. Will look more natural in the movies.

And, most significantly, any event can be used for settling political scores, especially where different political parties are involved, like the BJP led Union government, Shiv Sena led Maharashtra government and JDU led Bihar government in this case. There is value in multilateralism.

Don’t get me wrong. It is tragic. Any unnatural loss of life, any loss of life in its prime, is tragic. As is Rajput’s. While one can understand heightened emotions of near and dear ones, one expects governments and government bodies to behave in a judicious and equitable manner which is what eventually allows the common man to feel safe. Of the more than hundred thousand suicides in India every year, I wonder how many get investigated by the ED and CBI.

Hopefully, as Shakespeare says through Lancelot in The Merchant of Venice, the ‘truth will out.’

Sign Language

“But then, when will I cut them?”

I had forgotten it was my responsibility to ensure he was able to. Cut them. Blame it on old age.

The question had been asked by the young man sitting next to me and, in all likelihood, triggered by my saying, “this is not the place to be cutting your nails,” after my initial “perhaps you should be doing this at home,” had apparently gone unheard.

The trigger for my statements, in turn, had been the act of this young man casually taking out a shiny nail-cutter, spreading a newspaper on his lap, and starting to carefully chip away at his nails, taking care, as a responsible adult, to not leave any vestige of the activity in the surrounding area. Inside a train on the Delhi metro network, that I now take every day to get to my place of work. And back.

And, after the second statement, since there could not have been any doubt who I was speaking to, as there was nobody else cutting his nails in that coach, or in any other coach is my guess, he had left the nail on the middle finger, perhaps as a fitting hint, half-cut, and looked at me and asked the question. Crossly if my interpretation of his look is reliable.

Then he had looked away, perhaps not noticing my discomfiture as I did not have an answer to his question, and allowing me the luxury of a sigh of relief. But then he had looked right back at me and asked, “Where does it say?”

“Where does it say what” I asked right back, now composed.

“That I cannot cut my nails here?” He had not wasted time. When he had looked away from me, he had quickly scanned the coach to check if I had any basis for my unreasonable demand. Of requesting him to not cut his nails.

I was the deer in the headlights now. I sheepishly looked around, desperately searching for some sign of a sign behind which I might have hidden. I need not have. The young man had done his homework. There was a sign prohibiting sitting on the floor. There was a sign prohibiting smoking in the coach. There was a sign prohibiting eating and drinking. But nothing prohibiting the innocuous act of cutting nails. One’s own.

But he was a reasonable young man. He saw my discomfort and offered me a lifeline. “Has the Prime Minister asked the people to stop cutting nails inside coaches of the Delhi metro in any of his ‘Mann ki Baat’ episodes?”

The nation knows that the Prime Minister had asked countrymen to maintain cleanliness and hygiene. How else could we have known that we ought to maintain cleanliness and hygiene. I recalled, with some guilt, that even from the ramparts of the Red Fort, from where the Independence Day address is delivered, the Prime Minister had so far made no mention of not cutting nails inside coaches of the Delhi metro. How could anyone be expected to know that cutting nails is not be done in the coach of a train on the Delhi metro rail network.

As soon as the train stopped at the next station, I got off, though my destination had not arrived. I was unable to face the young man.

I should have known better. Walking down the platform I was reminded of my interaction, just two days back, with another youngster. This youngster eating in the coach. Did I already say there were signs prohibiting eating and drinking inside the coach? This young lady was eating right under the sign when I pointed this out to her, earning the response, along with a ‘puppy dog eyes,’ expression to go with it, “So when will I have breakfast?” I had looked away, shame-faced, at not thinking about such obvious issues. I may not have been her parent, and she might have been physically a full-grown, independent adult, but clearly I had not thought about when she would have breakfast.

And had continued eating her aloo parathas and pickle which the entire coach knew was of mango, seasoned in mustard oil.

The entire coach now also knew of this old chap who was poking his nose in other people’s affairs. “Can’t you get a mobile phone for yourself?” was the unsaid chorus. “Then you can join us and be brave and nationalistic and patriotic and send out forwards here and there on your mobile, when a criminal incident, usually a murder or rape, catches everyone’s attention and gets reported in the media. But following simple to understand, day-to-day rules in public life? Where do you think you are? Canada? Singapore? In fact, if we discourage breaking simple to understand, day-to-day rules in public life, it might well stifle out more serious crimes that have the potential of catching attention and allowing us the opportunity to be brave and nationalistic and patriotic and sending out forwards here and there on our mobiles. Whose side are you on?”

And that had not been an isolated incident either. A day earlier, I had pointed out the sign to another young man seated next to me and about to bite into his carefully packed sandwiches, to which he had, again with a ‘puppy dog eyes’ expression to match, had pleaded, “I am feeling very hungry.” But, this young man had packed his breakfast and kept it back in his bag. He must be a loser.

I had walked up the stairs and reached the ground level of the station. My mind was made up. I was going to see the station in-charge and request him to put up fresh signs inside train coaches so that decorum is maintained. ‘Do not shave in this coach,’ ‘Do not wash clothes inside this coach,’ ‘All cooking activity inside this coach is prohibited,’ in addition to ‘Do not cut nails inside this coach’ were some I had on my mind. And, of course, ‘Do not rape inside this coach,’ and ‘Murder is not permitted in any part of this coach.’ That would teach them, I hoped.

And that is not all. I would also request him to take away the existing signs like ‘Eating and drinking is not permitted inside this coach,’ since they are not followed in any case.

More pleasant rides on the Delhi metro await us.

You Can

“A horse a horse, my kingdom for a horse,” spake King Richard in Shakespeare’s Richard III.

In a slight twist to the Shakespearean phrase, we say A can a can. A can for my car. A Swachh can for my Hyundai Accent car.”

Hyundai Motors, a leading car maker in India, has boldly gone where no car has gone before. It has done the unthinkable. It has introduced a Swachh can inside its cars.

Not a bag. Not an envelope. A can.

I am sure my erudite readers understand what a can is. But a Swachh can?

My erudite readers, a Swachh can is also a can. In this particular case it is the size of a Venti Latte takeaway coffee cup of Starbucks. Or an ice-cream cone with a slightly upsized mound of ice-cream.

And Swachh? Swachh means clean. Swachh Bharat, or Clean India, is the call given by the present PM to keep the country clean, which is why our countrymen did not keep the country clean before the call. They were waiting for the call I believe. Now they are waiting for something else. We will find out as soon as that call gets given.

They, Hyundai Motors, have splashed advertisements in all prominent media to ensure no person is denied this pleasure. And roped in Shahrukh Khan, the leading star of Hindi movies for almost two decades, and their brand ambassador for perhaps as long. Of having a Swachh can in his car.

swachh can

But if Hyundai wants to place a can in its cars, why should we care? It is a free country after all. They are free to place a can, a flower-pot, or a steering wheel, in their cars. They have to figure out the commercial model of their decision and ensure it is legal.

We care because we are sensitive and caring human beings. We care because we believe Hyundai’s hand has been forced. By the draconian Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) law. The company has admitted that it is using its Corporate Social responsibility (CSR) funds for this initiative.

The CSR law, as some might already know, mandates for-profit corporations of a certain size, to spend 2% of the average net profits of the last three years, on CSR activities.

In order that the law is transparent and fair, the government has sharply identified what qualifies as a CSR activity by only recommending particular areas of need, including eradicating hunger and poverty, maternal and child health, HIV, TB and malaria, promoting gender equality and environmental sustainability. Companies can develop their own investment strategies and decide where to invest as long as it is approved by their Board which has one independent director who is paid by the company. To make the law even more clear, it also does not define an enforcement mechanism or penalties for non-compliance.

The Swachh can ticks off all boxes.

The CSR law, apparently, has been brought in because it is believed that for-profit corporations are best suited to carry out CSR activities since welfare of society is neither their primary, or secondary, or tertiary objectives or any part of their reasons for existence.

And since one of the primary responsibilities of a government is understood to be to determine high-priority needs of society and target public expenditure in these areas, what better way to discharge it than to abdicate the responsibility to for-profit organisations. After all, since corporations exist, why should the government do any work beyond making vague and misleading laws? We all know how difficult that itself is, don’t we?

Instead of managing a billion people many of whom are poor and expect the government to actually work for improving their lot, why not just manage a few thousand business corporations who will make the process of governance easier by contributing handsomely to politicians and political parties for these rights and laws.

Governments and politicians are happy because they will have even lesser work to do and can make good use of their time by making baseless accusations at other politicians for questioning this law.

Corporations are happy because what was required as an essential part of the success of their business and anyway being done, now can be quantified in Rupee terms and showcased as their selfless contribution to society.

A billion people are happy because they believe a huge amount is being spent on them and not on for-profit corporations making money for themselves, and their gradual decline into greater misery is either not visible or on account of their own incapability, and not for lack of government and for-profit corporation support.

Armed with the CSR law, for-profit corporations are boldly going where they been many times before.

Like a hydrocarbon extraction company who has decided to use the CSR funds for training displaced independent, proud farmers to handle jobs as drivers, security guards and pantry boys in their offices.  Which they were doing even before the CSR law was introduced.

Like a soft drink manufacturer who is using its CSR resources to recharge ground water supplies in the areas they produce their drinks. Which they were doing even before the CSR law was introduced.

Like Hyundai Motors putting Swachh cans inside cars.

No wonder cars were not clean. No wonder roads were not clean. There was no Swachh can inside the car.

Now, as soon as there is trash inside the car, what will you do? You will open the lid of the Swachh can and poof. The offending trash will vanish inside the can. And, as soon as the can is full, what will you do? You will open the lid of the can and poof. The offending trash will vanish on the road.

It was the absence of the can that kept our roads dirty. Not the absence of a mindset that allows us to respect others and the space of others.

Pressed for answers on the genesis of this CSR initiative, Hyundai Motors says they have done it because in a survey 98% of respondents have said that they deeply care about cleanliness of outside infrastructure such as streets and roads. Respondents were given two choices, as below:

Q. Cleanliness of outside infrastructure such as streets and roads is a big issue in India. Which of the following statements describes you best?

  • I care about it
  • I don’t care about it

And 95% of respondents said they favoured a portable covered bin inside the car in which waste items could be conveniently disposed off. Again, respondents were given two choices, as below:

Q. For conveniently disposing off trash inside the car, would you

  • Put the trash in a portable covered bin inside the car
  • Throw the trash outside the window

Since people told us, we have invented from scratch and given you the Swachh can.

And a plastic one too, by the looks of it.

Boyed by the resounding success of the CSR initiative as it seems to have changed nothing, and since 30% of their profits paid by for-profit corporations to the government as taxes cannot be used for governance since there are other important uses for that money, the government is considering enactment of laws to get for-profit corporations to spend 2% of their average annual net profit over the last three years to ensure that crimes against women are eliminated, and penalise them if they are not.

Why did we not think of this before? Everything the government could not do now seems possible.

Big Brother
















Who else but Big Brother?


Who else but Big Brother?  





Thank You For The Music

Dear Mr. Khattar,

(For the uninitiated, Mr. Manohar Lal Khattar is the Chief Minister of Haryana, the state where Gurgaon, where I live, lies)

Thank you for the music on the night of Friday, 18th August, extending into the wee hours of Saturday, 19th August. Yes last night.

Music that I neither asked for nor wanted.

Music that I understand is supposed to stop at 10 PM.

I realise the pains you have to go through to provide these little pleasures to your residents. Pleasures that residents of few leading cities in the world get to savour. Of free, unasked for music at unearthly hours. Not for nothing is Gurgaon known as the millennium city. After the destruction of overground vegetation and underground water reservoirs, this is perhaps a logical way forward for a modern, progressive city.

My last faint memory of the night is of purple lights blinking inside my head to the thumping of loud, remixed music. This must have been around 12.50 PM at night. But I could be mistaken. The only certain marker of time I have from last night is of the last call I received from the Sector 29 Police Station informing me that they will arrange for a Police Control Room (PCR) van to go to the establishment spreading the joy and ask them to switch off the music. That was around 12.40 AM.

My wife had initially called to complain (silly woman – complaining about a civic nuisance!) at about 11.25 PM. She had called the Sector 40 Police Station under whose jurisdiction our housing society falls.

Of course, till 12.30 AM nothing had been done. In fact, the music had grown louder and was belting out some foot-tapping scores.

Reluctantly I called the same Police Station again. After failing to connect with the PCR on “100”. The person answering the call expressed surprise that the music had not stopped despite him having done nothing about it. I offered that the music might be coming from across the road, from the eatery attached to the shiny new liquor vend that has come up near our building.

Though he might have expected the music to have stopped on its own, on hearing this he immediately said that that area is under the jurisdiction of the Sector 29 Police Station. The Doklam standoff between China and India may have nothing on this border dispute between the Police Stations of Sector 29 and Sector 40.

Notwithstanding the border dispute, he was kind enough to give me another number for reaching the PCR which, unfortunately, connected. The PCR might have conveyed the message to the Sector 29 Police Station which is perhaps why they called me.

I must stop here and apologise for my rudeness to the person who called. I asked him if they at the Police Station could not hear the music and why did they have to wait for a complaint. I also had the temerity to ask him about the punitive action that would be taken against the establishment. What was I thinking? If he gave a response I did not hear it. If you get a chance, please convey my sincere apologies to the person for asking inappropriate questions.

I am also extremely sorry I was not able to participate in the festivities longer than 12.50 AM. I have made a mental note to sleep through the day tomorrow so that I can enjoy the late night festivities you and your administration have arranged for unsuspecting and ungrateful residents like me.

I will also try to communicate the same to children who need to get up early for school and seniors living in our building to ensure that they also sleep through the day so that we can all enjoy this unexpected treat from the authorities together. It will hopefully bring us all together cutting across lines of age, gender, religion, occupation, etc. We cannot thank you enough.

Of course I understand. If we cannot stop rapes, molestations and murders in the city, what right do we have to expect such trifles to be prevented? How can the police be expected to know that an establishment in their vicinity is playing loud music beyond permitted hours and censure them? They can only know if a resident complains. Isn’t it?

On another note, I also thank you for the early practice, as the silly season begins in October when the weather turns for the better and outdoor merriment starts. It is good to get one’s ear accustomed to unauthorised late night music as HUDA Gymkhana Club and Kingdom of Dreams, both within a stone’s throw of our building, who have been the bellwethers of unauthorised late night music in our neck of the woods till last year, begin their respective acts.

Equally, it is wonderful to see that the administration, as behoves an administration in a market economy, is leaving no stone unturned to introduce greater competition in this area as well. After all, why should HUDA Gymkhana Club and Kingdom of Dreams have a free run on late night unauthorised music?

Would it be possible to publish a playlist for the night’s unauthorised music playing so that residents can be better prepared with the right accompaniments for the music being dished out? If not, can we introduce a system through which “requests” can be sent to the erring establishment so that the unauthorised music could be to the liking of the forced audience?

Even if the above requests cannot be entertained, please don’t fret. You are keeping us entertained, albeit against our wishes. Your good deeds will stand you well. Remind me again when the next elections are due.

If I sound distracted in writing this thank you note, I apologise. I am writing this at 2.30 AM, after waking from a fitful sleep with those purple lights still flashing inside my head. It seems the music has restarted. Thanks again. Apologies if my complaint caused the music to be shut down for a few minutes, or was it seconds. I realise that one should not look a gift horse in the mouth. Who knows, we may be condemned to live in a city with rule of law.


An ungrateful resident.


Eventually, the beauty of the solution lay in its simplicity and elegance.

But that is what leaders are for. To see what the common man cannot see. To do what the common man cannot do. To hear what the common man does not say. To take decisions where the common man needs none. And to dither and vacillate where the common man needs one to be taken.

Billions of rupees have gone down the drain in the search for solutions and cures. Numerous lives sacrificed. Decades lost.

Yet, year after year the scourge has kept coming back. Like the proverbial bad penny. Developing, evolving newer and hardier strains, mocking the advances made by society. Come monsoon, typically between June and September in most parts of the country, it bares its fangs once again and readies to strike.

Even a plethora of meticulously unresearched advice, blindly forwarded on WhatsApp groups, has had no impact. Like the one I received yesterday informing me that the mosquito responsible for dengue cannot fly above knee height, hence all that people need to do is take care to cover the body below the knees, and all will be well. In my 11th floor apartment, with the dreaded buzzing sound audible as soon as I step out onto the terrace, this message was like manna from heaven. It seems the little tyke can fly upto the 11th floor of a building, significantly higher than knee high to a person at ground level, but once it reaches that height, it loses the will to fly above knee height. I took my phone and read the message aloud to the creators of the buzzing sound on the terrace to tell them how they needed to behave. A follow-up session is scheduled today evening.

By now you might have guessed that I am talking about mosquito-borne diseases like malaria and dengue, which have traditionally held sway during these months. If malaria was more lethal in one year, it would be dengue in the next. Last year, chikungunya, an unknown new mosquito-borne disease, became the flavour of the season, eclipsing malaria and dengue. Like an unheralded Boris Becker, all of seventeen years of age, coming into Wimbledon in 1985 and laying established stars low. Who knows which disease will rule the roost this year. Online bookies are doing roaring business.

Cities and governments around the country have been trying to solve the problem through planned, scientific means, with dismal results. Just when it seemed all was lost and that we were consigned to being forever held to ransom by mosquito-borne diseases every monsoon, came an inspired, swift, unilateral decision by the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC) which has put the spring back in the steps of the common man. What is even more inspiring is that it appears that the decision is based neither on logic nor any substance.

Not for nothing has Mumbai been the commercial capital of the nation.

Public Health Department (PHD) officials of the BMC have come to the rescue of the common man from the annual mosquito menace and slapped a notice on a popular Radio Jockey (RJ) in the city whose satirical song on potholes in Mumbai’s roads and mocking the BMC has garnered over a million views on YouTube, for breeding mosquitoes in a clay bowl kept under the plant pot kept in front of the front door of her apartment.

Now who would have thought that mosquitoes would be bred by a popular RJ whose satirical song on potholes in Mumbai’s roads and mocking the BMC has garnered over a million views on YouTube. That too in a clay bowl kept under the plant pot kept in front of the front door of her apartment.

PHD officials can clearly make out that a clay bowl kept under the plant pot kept in front of the front door of the popular RJ’s apartment, the RJ whose satirical song on potholes in Mumbai’s roads and mocking the BMC has garnered over a million views on YouTube, is being used for breeding mosquitoes, but clay bowls kept under plant pots kept in front of the front doors of other apartments in her building, whose occupants have not put out a satirical song on potholes in Mumbai’s roads and mocking the BMC that has garnered over a million views on YouTube, are not being used for breeding mosquitoes.

The world has changed. Clearly you can’t pull wool over the eyes of officials of the PHD of the BMC any more. They know.

“When the city has several agencies controlling roads, how can BMC be blamed for potholes, even though it is our responsibility?” the BMC has shot back at the RJ. “Problems with the railways and airlines are not because of us,” the BMC has added, bolstering their argument by citing examples of services they have nothing to do with. Even the RJ whose satirical song on potholes in Mumbai’s roads and mocking the BMC has garnered over a million views on YouTube, will not be able to argue with that.

As the BMC is ruled by a political party whose founder built a reputation with scathing political cartoons before turning to politics, it is only logical that scathing humour at their expense is not to be tolerated. The party has identified that since they so enjoyed and identified with it, the video was an insult to every Mumbaikar (resident of Mumbai). It was apparently a unanimous decision taken by the leader of the party alone.

In order not to get left behind, Delhi has proactively decided to retrospectively issue mosquito breeding notices to organisers of the protest march “Not In My Name” last month, despite the monsoon becoming active over Delhi only in July, as a preventive measure.

To eradicate the menace of mosquitoes from the country, it has been decided to ban all forms of creative dissent.

A simple and elegant solution, wouldn’t you agree?


The paying public deserves better.


















National Anthem













Patriots who do not watch movies are up in arms.








Jan, Gan, Man…

ODDities and EVENtualities

















This could change the world.




In a Soup

Madhuri Dixit, a leading Bollywood actress of the nineties, is in a thick soup. Not an ordinary soup. A thick Maggi soup. 

It appears that a packet of Maggi, of which she is a brand ambassador, has been found to contain Monosodium Glutamate (MSG), a taste-enhancer, which is a restricted substance, without a declaration on the packing of the product. To add salt to Maggi, or insult to injury, the discovery has been made simultaneously in Barabanki and Muzaffarpur, remote towns deep in the states of Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, as well known across the nation for their rule of law and morally upright administration, as they are for the ethical, uncompromising stand on testing of food taken by the common man.

Such amateurish behaviour was not expected from an actress of her stature. It is learnt from reliable sources that she did not even rush to her private lab to check the ingredients under a microscope before signing on the dotted line. All she is reported to have done is seek confirmation from company officials regarding the quality of the product.

Such negligence deserves punishment.

The government, poor souls, have been forced to take this action against the brand ambassador, since they have no way of knowing that the product was manufactured by Nestle, one of the world’s leading packaged food manufacturers.

How can they?

Are they children who consume the product?

Or are they expected to read the printed matter on packets of the product?

Or are they expected to maintain records and governance information that could lead people to believe that they have some idea of what is going on in their jurisdiction?

Even if they did, how are they expected to know how to contact Nestle or how to serve a notice to them? So, as smart, reasonable government officials, they sent a notice to Madhuri Dixit.

The government is sending out a clear signal to the younger generation. It is just not enough to be a good, popular actor. You also need to have a private product testing lab.

Salman Khan, a popular Bollywood actor, who endorses a brand of cotton vests, is running scared. As is Aishwarya Rai, former Miss World, who is endorsing a commercial real estate development in Mumbai. With a fair and transparent government at work, there is no knowing which product MSG might surface in next.

Shopkeepers around the country who have stocked it are already under the scanner. Why did they not check the packets in their own labs before selling them, is a question baffling experts?

Sooner or later, it is bound to come back to the parents. What were they thinking? Don’t they even have labs at home where they can test the products they are feeding their children? Do they expect the government to do even that? When will they start taking responsibility?

The Information and Broadcasting Minister, having failed to detect the presence of MSG in the product, and allowed product ads to be aired on TV, in a principled stand, has resigned his position as Minister and become the governor of a state.

Realising that Madhuri Dixit started endorsing Maggi only recently, the government machinery is leaving no stone unturned to uncover the names of celebrities who have endorsed Maggi in the past so that blame can be placed where it belongs.

Following the lead given by the government, the courts are creating a precedent whereby responsibility for future indiscretions regarding a product can be clearly assigned.

If it is found that Fair and Handsome does not really make you any fairer or more handsome, who will the blame lie with? Of course Shahrukh Khan, another leading Bollywood actor, who endorses the product.

We don’t need to tell you whose responsibility it would be in case it is discovered, in Barabanki or Muzaffarpur, that Boost, the chocolate energy drink for children, does not really give any additional natural energy to children. Of course it will be Sachin Tendulkar’s responsibility. Everyone knows Sachin. And everyone should know why it is his responsibility.

The government and courts have also given a resounding endorsement of the decision-making capability of the common man. They possess such sound judgment, the government believes, that they are forced to buy all products endorsed by a celebrity, even though they have no use for them.

The product will be banned with retrospective effect, as has been so successfully done by some of our leaders.

But wait! Why should the product be banned? Is it the fault of the product? No way. It is the fault of Madhuri Dixit.