Paparazzi Phenomenon

What is the most intrusive piece of technology in people's lives? The knee-jerk answer would be the cell phone, more so now that they double as digital cameras. They are insidious enough but the more credible answer is the cameras employed by TV channels and Page 3 photographers. The other day, at a wedding involving a celebrity, they were so ubiquitous that the entire evening saw the celebrity bride surrounded by the P3 tribe, hardly giving her a chance to mingle with the other guests.

Admittedly, the celeb bride was as much to blame: she was constantly aware of the cameras and her interaction with guests was governed by the glare of the TV lights and the flashbulb. Every time she moved, the camera-wielding gang moved with her, surrounding her like Black Cat commandos guarding a VIP. That day's late-night TV shows, the electronic equivalent of Page 3, featured the glamorous bride and almost no one else.

It is the paparazzi phenomenon, Indian style, and it is starting to dominate social life. It is a testament to our times, an age when tabloid-type celebrity hunting is the hottest media pursuit and privacy and personal lives a dispensable casualty. Much of today's social conversation revolves around celebrity-related gossip and having Shah Rukh Khan's cell number on your speed dial counts for more than access to the Prime Minister's Office. The problem is the fierce competition between the tabloid pages and television channels to get the so-called exclusive slice of celebrity life. Sadly, most people, not just fashion designers and Bollywood stars but industrialists, politicians and diplomats will not throw a party without making sure TV cameras and P3 reporters and photographers are present.

The result is that virtually every social occasion is a made-for TV event, with P3 scribes and television cameramen dictating every move made by the host and hostess and the guests. Sometimes the intrusion can be ugly. Last week, at the celebrity's wedding, one well-dressed, elderly gentleman standing next to me made an attempt to get past the ring of cameramen to reach the bride. For his effort, he received an elbow in the stomach and had his drink spill all over his jacket. When he protested, the cameraman rudely asked, "Who are you?" Taken aback, the elderly man sputtered: "I happen to be the bride's father." The cameraman shrugged and turned away. He had a job to do.

Index