Watching Indian television is a mind-numbing experience. Life generally evolves, so does Mallika Sherawat, but not television. With every new game show hosted by ageing botoxed superstars, every recycled soap, every Noida murder drama, television drives home the point why it is an idiot's box.
Indian television is just about as original as an Anu Malik score (ok, most Malik tunes). The beast feeds on about five ideas:
Who wants to be Amitabh Bachchan.
Ekta ke paas saans hai, mere paas maa hai.
American Idol and its shrieky children.
I am the nuisance between songs, they call me VJ.
I want to be Christina Amanpour but they want me to be Raakhi Sawant (or vice versa).
It's possible I may have missed a trick or two but at the heart of it, the idiot box is run on a stunningly original philosophy: We all have the same thing, but mine is bigger.
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