I have three pet peeves these days. One is the phenomenon of multiple 24/7 news channels, which keep rehashing the same old gossip in a 24-hour loop.
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But, they have as many channels for recycled news as they have song and dance sequences in multiple vernaculars.
With the IPL matches (with replays, highlights, game shows) I spend much more time than usual watching TV.
Every time I settle into a comfortable chair (to try and master Virender Sehwag's new fad called 'Ungli Cricket') the phone starts ringing.
A computer generated voice is offering prize money for facile SMS answers to silly questions.
(But sometimes there are genuine calls from real people who, anyway, bombard me with inane greetings and unanswerable questions.u00a0 'Is that you' ufffd?' 'Am I Disturbing You?'u00a0u00a0 or: 'Are You Busy?'
Now, there is also sports news of substance. Is Shoaib Malik a Bride Snatcher ufffd? or a Publicity Seeker? Is Sania Mirza as gullible as she seems? Should she play for Pakistan after marriage?
Or, hold on to her place in the Indian team as long as she can continue to hold her tennis racket straight? Serious questions. Important answers!
Cricket used to be a gentleman's game. Now it is not quite fit for a gentleman, or his children, to watch. The IPL, for one, qualifies for a title like Sex, Lies and Videotape.
The sex angle is amply covered by the scantily dressed cheerleaders wiggling their bums, the AXE boys doing a kind of male striptease to reveal their hairy masculine chests (shaved smooth as a new born baby's bum...) Lies are the forte of Mr Malik (Shoaib), can keep a TV audience guessing with his numerous almost truths.
(He and Shashi Tharoor (former Minister of State for External 'Affairs', pun intended) make Swami Nityananda's 'exposes' seem as na ve as a Cartoon Network shortfilm. (Does the BJP consider all this not-Un-Indian and anti-Indian Culture?u00a0 Should we rename the IPL series as the Indian Pornographic League?)
It's all a kind of reality show from which young Indians can learn the facts of life.
My neighbour's son came back from the Bangalore match, re-educated.u00a0 'Mom! He asked? Where do babies come from? His mother went into a long, garbled, IPL type explanation (God puts them into Mummies' tummies).
'Ma, what rubbish you talk!' And he enlightened her about AXE effects and masculine rape (by hordes of horny females), which he had learnt from the latest TV ad film.
Peter Colaco is a famous author. His most recent and famous novel is Bangalore: A Century of Tales from City and Cantonment.
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