By Harsimran Kaur
The self-deprecating Saif Ali Khan, the mysterious robber in a trance of maraud and the discreditable dagger! A typical Hindi movie scene but this time Saif was the protective father fighting the hair-raising antagonism of the intruder skirting his house in real.
What were his intentions? Heated debates are doing the rounds, and the question smirks of how he could pursue such a high-falutin personality with such perfect fidelity? Was he digressing into an actor manqué; knife in his folded palms ready to strike the soi-distant actor as if the persistency will pay off? The ET SEQ – his plan was scuppered by Saif’s retaliation, making him run in flagrante delicto.
Nevertheless, what has left me discombobulated more than the security synapse malfunction is the importunate exposure of celebrities by the media. Their whereabouts positioned with the incessant waving of hands and the ‘richie-rich’ gullibility could be a rebarbative to many, not that common people don’t indulge in the raffish & ritzy; it’s just not documented. Kareena Kapoor Khan walking with the coffee mug in her hand along the esplanade of her house needs enshroud now!
Excessive publicity brings the demons out in the open. Though, an expansive thought, but I must let the skeletons out of the closet. It goes like, both ‘Fame’ & ‘Fury’ blow up to become a fester boiling on a mistaken belief of ‘overbearing hubris’; a pride aggrandized to be a part of the conscious living. The actor with ‘fame’ becomes an oyster with pearls that everyone wants to touch albeit the ‘fury’ of many brackish minds tries to bridle the buccaneer ‘fame’ in blithe. Preserving the ‘self’ thus becomes important. ‘Fame’ does not relieve you of scrutiny and ‘Fury’ cannot escape with impunity.
I was very young when the legendry actor Amitabh Bachchan was striked with an ignominious punch to his stomach during a film shoot. Millions prayed for his recovery, cauldron of flames were lit and the ornamental shlokas were lip-read to awaken the Gods for their benevolence. Weren’t actors of that era considered as ‘God incarnate’? Today, it’s not so evident; they have become the ‘Garish Gods’, looked upon to be then bludgeoned by the ‘nerds’ who notoriously seek ‘actors’ to be the objet d’ art.
Whys such a difference? The extra-ordinary lives of actors, today, reckon with aplomb and there is this sterile deception in the savoir faire that has created a schismatic conflict between their on-screen persona and the ‘real’ rendition. It’s obvious, but unsettling for some who find their ‘favorites’ sliding on untowered emotions often concealed and contained, or pouring out in conceited rhythms.
Why Saif Ali Khan was attacked is still not clear; was it really a burglary attempt or to put him close to an impasse? Did he come to murder him? And if robbery was the ulterior motive, I marvel at his chutzpah to sit in the actor’s house in certitude knowing that even a slight clangour will turn it into a cause celebre? I guess it was already a fait accompli. Now, not knowing the actor’s stature would be clanger; it just does not go well down the throat.
Whatever cock & bull story is weaved now is of no consequence; the high-profile living in the safety tracery of Mumbai now feel beleaguered, and a bête noir by the marauders. All this takes me back to the murder of politician ‘Baba Siddique’ in October 2024. Known for his rave-up’ Iftar parties’, he was shot dead by gunmen right on the street; one of them linked to the Lawrence Bishnoi Gang., who was also involved in firing outside actor Salman Khan’s residence in 2022.
Who is then safe, if it’s not the ‘politicians’ who appeal to the desires and prejudices of the people or the ‘actors’ who fleet anthropomorphism of emotions on the reel-screen? It seems they have presumptuously become a disquisition liability to many who see them as a threat to strait-laced morals or have become too piquant to be swallowed willingly.
Coming back to the ‘Saif Solecism’, safety is in distress. The imposition of ‘courage’ has turned blasphemous; it’s no longer a discipline that only comes to the brave heart but could be slugged in a backpack, walked through the A/C duct into a room full of dissension. The courage to stab the actor six times, leaving a piece of knife lodged in his spine is in fact a rise of ‘an illusionist conjuring up a fearless brigade of self-sustainability bereft of appellation of ‘actor’ who will not awaken, I hope, from the soporific prejudiced lives’.
The media hunting for the ‘sacrosanct lives’ of the celebrities need to be purloined. It may seem innocuous but is definitely not without temptations. ‘Riches make you spoilt’ but seeing ‘riches’ through the social media phantasmagoria all through the day acts as an imperceptible release of a noose from the bare neck of improvised slaughter.
Let’s hope ‘Saif’ is safe and ‘future triggers’ are best left embedded in the spine of surveillance.