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May 31, 2001

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Pritish Nandy

Defending Salman Khan

Let me say it upfront. I do not like Salman Khan. The very thought of someone killing black bucks revolts me. For the black buck is a frail, gentle, helpless species quietly going into extinction because a few brainless twits in leather pants think it is a tough, sexy act to go out with guns and shoot them down. It is a sick, cowardly thing to do and I do not like cowards.

Having said this, I must also admit that I find the media's obsessive hostility towards Salman sick, perverse, grossly unfair. It is not the media's job to judge anyone. Their job is to present the facts and allow readers to make up their own mind.

In Salman's case, I have noticed that the facts are invariably few and the insinuations far too many. In fact, much of what you read about him in the press is plain bilge. Salman hates the media; the media hates Salman. In this face-off, truth is the first casualty.

In fact, Salman has faced a hostile media ever since he joined the movies. The first attention-grabber published on him called him a superbrat and he has, in a perfect example of life following journalism, become precisely that over the years. The sad thing is that while a superbrat image may be fine for a 16-year-old about to enter showbiz, it does not hang as elegantly on his 40-year-old frame, however superbly maintained it may be.

A 16-year-old with attitude is charming, but a 40-year-old with attitude seems a frazzled retard.

But that does not give the media the right to go for Salman at every opportunity, right or wrong. The man is not a monkey in a cage that you can take a steel-tipped umbrella and prod him through the iron bars to see if he really bites.

Admittedly, celebrities have no private life and every passer-by believes in passing tight-arsed moral judgement on them, their friends and family. It is the easiest thing to do. But if you are so keen to judge others, you must also be ready to take the occasional jab on your jaw and not complain.

Also, Salman is not a politician. His personal life does not really concern the nation. If he does something wrong, he must be punished like anyone else. If not, he should be left alone. Not hounded all the time with gossip and snide comments.

It is unfair to keep targeting him as if he is such an important public figure that any fatal flaw in his character can destroy India forever. After all, he is just another person like you and I. Maybe a few more women swoon over him than would swoon over us, but that does not give the media the right to open season against him.

It is not journalism. It has nothing to do with freedom of the press. It requires no great courage to attack someone just because he is a soft target and attracts a huge amount of envy for his so-called glamorous lifestyle. The lifestyle comes with the territory and it is simply not half as glamorous as we think it is. Otherwise, Sanjay Dutt would not have almost died from substance abuse and young Fardeen would not be snorting coke at midnight. Nor would so many stars be battling the bottle.

Showbiz, like any profession lived out in the glare of the arc lights, is a tough, difficult, stressful environment where you are only as good as your last success. It generates extreme stress, extreme tension, and, often, extreme fear and disappointment.

No one enjoys being an ape in an open cage, where passers-by are always making rude remarks. Plus, you have all the anxieties. The extortionists are after you. The cops keep a constant eye on you. The underworld wants you to dance to their tune. What is worse, the Lennon syndrome works against you, where every frustrated crank can become a stalker or an assassin just for that one moment of fame and glory.

Try living with this for one day and you will know exactly why a Salman Khan hits the bottle or an abusive paparazzi. It is pent-up anger. It is pent-up fear and resentment. It is the frustration of living your life in the full glare of public attention. It can make anyone see red.

No, not everyone is comfortable with fame, success, glory -- and the pain, suffering and fear they bring. Not everyone is a Gandhi or a Christ or a Dalai Lama. Nerves snap. People snap. Sometimes one breaks down and hits back at what he sees as the enemy.

It may not be the enemy. It may be just another humble photographer doing his job. But can you blame someone for snapping under such extreme pressure? Particularly when he is perpetually described as a sick, perverse, woman-beating monster who gets drunk by lunchtime and plays footsie with the underworld.

Salman may be immature. He may have foolish notions about how the world ought to see him. The machismo he struts is an anachronism in this time and age. His movies are no longer setting the screen on fire. His personal life seems in a mess. The underworld is breathing down his neck. Can you blame him for being stressed out?

He may be foolish, but he is nowhere near that dark, monstrous creature the media makes him out to be.

Yes, judge him, by all means. But let him who has never lost his temper in public, who has never had a fight with his girlfriend, who has never succumbed to pressure and extortion, who has never made a fool of himself before others, who has never snarled at an angry mob cast the first stone.

Pritish Nandy

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