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Conversations - The Great Debate

Our life is often shaped by the noise surrounding it. We may or may not perceive it, but it affects us constantly. One of the biggest and loudest noises surrounding us is from news channels. News! Breaking News! Hard hitting news! What does “news” really mean? The word simply means “new things”, translated from the French word nouvelles. New things indeed. It is paradoxical that what is served in our living rooms from various news channels, is anything but new. Most news channels have a fixed agenda, and a partial showing of the truth. Watching televised news is akin to being a blind man and trying to feel how an elephant looks like. Six blind men once tried to gauge that. One was sure it looked like a rope, because he held the tail. The other was sure it looked like a wall because he held the stomach. And the third was sure it looked like a pillar, because he held a foot. All of them started fighting amongst each other, trying to prove how only they knew the truth and how everyone else was wrong. If this fight were to be televised, with an anchor, and served to millions on television, it would be called a News Debate. Interestingly, the word “debate” originates from French word debattre, which in medieval times, translated to “to beat”.

It was prime time, as they called it and every news anchor worth their salt was doing gargles with salt and warm water. They needed a clear throat and a loud voice. Indeed, when everyone else is shouting, it only makes sense to shout the loudest and drown everyone else’s thoughts in your noise. The routine had started. Panelists made their way in the studio. A couple of panelists couldn’t reach physically, so they joined via Zoom. The panel was nearly ready. The anchor walked in, to the loudest music possible. Were it not a news channel, someone would have thought it was a discotheque. After a customary introduction of the panel, which included a scientist, a local worker from the ruling political party, a local worker from another political party, a small time TV actress, a lawyer from the district court, and a retired Army general, the debate got under way.

“My dear viewers, let us welcome our esteemed panel,” Philip Prasad, the celebrity anchor started, and introduced all the members of the panel. Usually, he started out soft, and then he was prone to sudden outbursts. It had become quite popular among the audience.

“Tonight, the topic of our debate is- Should the Bangalore IPL team captain resign? After so many failed campaigns, and shameful defeats, what should the Bangalore team do next?”

“Philip, I find it extremely xenophobic that you picked only my city!” the scientist, Trisha Mathews said. She continued, now with raised voice, ”How dare you insult my city, my culture, my people?” She almost stood up from her chair.

“Of course Philip is right,” Manas Ravi, political worker A joined, “The current ruling party has reduced our city and our state to a joke. You fake intellectuals keep supporting them but the fact is…”

“HOW DARE YOU!” thundered Krishna, political worker B. It was his party in power in the state. He continued, “You guys destroyed our city long back! Remember, our IPL team was formed when your party was in the government. Under us, it reached the playoffs once! We have done more than you ever could!”

Manas and Krishna stood up and engaged in a scuffle. Philip had to separate the two. This clip would be replayed multiple times across all platforms the following day. Ayesha, the actress, last seen on screen five years ago, raised her hand and said, “This is such a patriarchal statement from Philip. Why should the men’s captain resign? The women team is playing so well. Why can’t we have the women captain play in men’s IPL?”

Even Philip was too stunned to reply.

“Umm, Ayesha it is not possible, “ he stammered, for the first time in a decade.

“Why not? This is what happens when men run everything. We women never get our due. In my last film, I got paid just one tenth of what the lead actor made.”

“But you were on screen for just one song…”

“So? That was a good song! Nobody cares about women any more!”

Manas stood up, lifted a shoe and hurled it at Krishna.

“Krishna’s party has the highest number of rapists! He doesn’t care about women. Our party is much better!”

Krishna, in return, picked up the mic and threw it back on Manas. It had descended into total chaos. Philip stepped in again, and disengaged the warring factions.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please don’t forget the main issue- Should the captain of Bangalore IPL team resign? This is the burning question for the nation!”

Somewhere in Mumbai, a family switched off the TV. The old couple’s only son had to give yet another entrance exam. He was unemployed for almost two years now. Somewhere in Bihar, the TV signal got cut off due to electricity cuts. It was the third time it had happened that day. Somewhere in Delhi, the two men sitting on the footpath switched off the show on their phones, on seeing a girl walk across them, all alone. Not everyone in the nation cared about IPL.

An hour passed with such heated, fiery debate. As the show meandered towards an end, Philip gave his customary final verdict. All the panelists walked out of the studio, gathered in the cafeteria and ordered coffee. One hour of intensive debating was enough to tire them out. Manas sat next to Krishna, put his hand around his shoulder and said, “This guy is the best at giving TRP worthy moments!” Everyone laughed. Ayesha was unhappy.

“Philip, why do you have me play the dumb girl everytime? You know it is affecting my acting career.”

“Oh no. We aren’t together anymore. His business went bankrupt, so I left him. I am with this new producer guy. He will soon divorce his wife.”

Trisha sipped from her cup and said, “Damn, this issue of regional pride never goes out of fashion. We can twist anything to suit it.”

“Of course. And that’s why I call you. Who else is better than you?” Philip winked, and continued, “That’s all for today. Let’s see you all tomorrow!” The group departed one by one.

The next day, it was the same panel of experts, debating on whether Narendra Modi should resign if India doesn’t win the T20 World Cup. It was Saturday. Weekend prime time was the primest of all times. It deserved the juiciest, the most action-packed debate of all time. As expected, within quarter an hour, the panelists had started hurling abuses on each other. Within ten more minutes, they descended to fighting with bare hands. Trisha was pulling Ayesha’s hair on live television. Philip smirked. This episode would break all TRP records. He could feel something rise up his chest. It was pride. Sheer pride. He had built all of this, right from scratch. The aggressive debates, the fights, it was all his idea. The panelists made decent money from it.

Oh wait! It was more than just pride. It was pain! He clutched his chest, and fell on the ground. Dead. In front of a million eyes.

Only an hour later, did someone from the studio realized he wasn’t speaking anything. By then, it was too late. The episode recorded the highest TRP in the history of television.