On Sho Sha and all that jazz

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So… was the last year for all of you? Mine was decent enough, except for the last two months. Why the last two months you might ask? If you were not living under a rock, there was no missing the non-stop celebrity wedding fanfare. All these weddings made me feel ugly, fat, poor, and totally out of it.

Continuously for the last eight weeks, all you could see on every newspaper and social media outlet were the preparations leading up to the extravaganzas. All other news could go to hell, going by the newspapers, all the country cared about seemed to be the preparation and execution of these weddings. You just had to open any social media app, and you got the rundown on every minute detail of each and every famous wedding. Right from the kind of flowers at the venue, to the colours of the tablecloths used, to clothes, jewellery and makeup for the bride and her two hundred times removed cousins, guest lists, security details, you name it, it was all there – every tiny juicy detail. There was no escape (not that some of us wanted to escape…), we were drowning (reveling) in the deluge of this random information about strangers’ lives.

We all knew somebody, sixty degrees of separation if need be, who had been attached to these weddings (no matter how loosely), in some way either as a guest, or a faraway relative of some guest, or managing the catering, or security, or dressing up someone fortunate enough to have been invited. This (in our minds), gave us an edge over our fellow plebians. We start doling out juicy bits of information like prized possessions, and hear totally different versions of the same stuff just like Chinese whispers!

In the days leading up to the big weddings, they become mythical and larger in life. If you were on the road and a fancy car passed by, it had to be some famous so-and-so, on the road only for the wedding. If the prices of fruits and vegetables went up, it was because all of Bombay’s produce had been used up for wedding prep. If you suddenly felt faint and out of breath…..well of course it was because Bombay’s air was all being used up by the wedding army!!
After the events, when snaps were leaked on social media, all of us had a field day exchanging and dissecting each and every photograph. Who wore what? Clothes, makeup, accessories – who experimented and succeeded, and who went horribly wrong? My mind was in overdrive with all the information….and of course my family laughed at me and called me crazy. They told me that had I given this much attention and focused on other (more useful) things, I would have been at another level in life (something I chose to ignore, mostly because they were *maybe* right, and I had no counter argument…) For months after, my every visit to the tailor will include a snap from one of these events, and I ignore all his comments (“but this cut won’t suit you, this material is not correct”) – if this was good enough for a Bollywood star, it was definitely good enough for me!

What makes us so obsessed with all this ‘sho sha’ (for want of a better word)?

We love reading, watching and discussing details about the rich and famous because they too seem human with their mistakes, also because we live our lives through them. Its as if they 'ARE' because we are, as if we owe them, like they are our creations. We lift them, copy them, love them, hate them and envy them as per our whims and fancies. Meanwhile they are not even aware of our existence and our opinions matter zilch, whilst we think and choose to believe otherwise.

Celebrity stalking is our most favourite pass time because you can love them, hate them but you can't ignore them. After an over dose of high profile happenings  I'm mentally exhausted and swear off this nonsense for some time

But you see the forces above are against me and accept my challenge with a smirk. Very soon, I hear of another celebrity gig to be announced. Sigh, another resolve broken as I get sucked into a whirlpool of speculation and gossip.

On that note... A VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR :-)