Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Indian Idol

When I come down, I manage to catch the last few minutes of a program called "Boogie Woogie"--an Indian reality show where westerners try perform Hindi songs, hoping to snag a role in a Bollywood film. Soon after the scantily clad German girl finishes, I hear the distant bell tower chime 9 o'clock, and we, like nearly every family in Kalimpong, huddle together for the main event.

First, the classic opening: anonymous, computer animated figures step forward into stardom. Then, the lights on the stage rise, and the five performers jump out in gaudy costumes of black and gold. Each one holds a sparkling sequined later: D...I...S...C...O!. Their song finishes, and the hosts enter, announcing with enthusiasm the start of the Indian Idol (Season 3) Disco Special.

The similarity to the American version is startling. The make up of the judges, from what I could tell, was exactly the same: a grumpy, mean, critical one, a super-nice female one, and a slick, cool one. The announcers and the judges flicker back and forth between hindi and english when discussing each performance. When the third performer comes on, my aamaa cooes and my host sister squeals. It's Prashant, the hero of Darjeeling.

At their core, the Idol shows are little more than a popularity contest. In India, this manifests in the country's peculiar ways. Region, tribe, caste, language--these all make up an individual's identity far more distinctly than personal achievements. Most people in town will readily acknowledge that Prashant is hardly the most talented singer or performer of the bunch, but that doesn't seem to matter. Prashant is the first major contestant to come from the hill areas of Darjeeling.

The next twenty-four hours are a silent bustle of activity in Kalimpong. Text message drives have been organized, funded by contributions from various members of the community and set in motion by the local town government. All over the bajaar and from a big banner in front of town hall, Prashant's face stares out from posters encouraging--no, demanding!--that residents vote for him. When Saturday night comes, it is all made worthwhile. Despite his obvious mediocrity compared to several of the other contestants, Prashant is safe. In the distance I hear fireworks.

There is a telling insight to be found here concerning the differences between the Indian and American perspectives on individual value and community. In America, where your home town, religion, and ethnicity matter less, and where there is not the multiplicity of languages, favorites are picked based on looks, personality, and actual talent. Here in India, where community identity is so strong, whole states may rally together for a local champion. In Darjeeling, the long standing feelings of alienation and rejection felt by Nepali speaking Gorkhas amplify this sense of group identity to a palpable fervor.

There is a precedent in Darjeeling for this sort zealous support for an individual. In the late 1980s, when agitation for an autonomous Gorkhaland state reached its peak, Mr. Subash Ghising, the charismatic and nearly messianic leader of the Gorkha National Liberation Front, had all but unanimous approval among the hill towns. Strikes were called, ultimatums and manifestos were sent, and official platforms were touted, but still the state and national government refused to grant the Gorkhas statehood. As the frustration and discontent grew, the government called in the Central Reserve Police Force--a group synonymously throughout the country with trigger happy violence and police brutality. For nearly a near the CRPF occupied the Darjeeling district and Ghising's stronghold here in Kalimpong. They looted homes, raped young women, killed indiscriminately, and arrested the families of the dead as militants. All in the name of restoring law and order.

People in Kalimpong don't talk much about this dangerous, tragic period. But they talk about Prashant. The Gorkhaland movement may not been in full force anymore, but the sharp desire for recognition from the rest of India is obviously still very much present. Now they've found a new messiah to put their hopes and dreams on, and, for the moment at least, it's exciting. Inevitably, though, the show will, and Prashant probably won't be the last one standing. What will people do and say when their hero is eliminated? What will happen when the sound of fireworks doesn't come? I don't know, but I expect quiet disappointment. Most folks in Kalimpong seemed to have lost their appetite for violence twenty years ago. Prashant will probably fade into the ether, and people will start looking for another messiah. Another idol.

4 comments:

Fan1 said...

Hey, Andrew, you have some typos. But I wonder if the kind of organized effort was there for the American Idol Sanjaya who was of Indian heritage. I thought that Sanjaya was really fun and it was wonderful to see him go from this stiffy to one of the better entertainers, but it drove Simon wild that week after week he was safe when he clearly didn't have a great voice. MOMOXOXO>

dconrad said...

Hi Andreew!

Andrew and I are enjoying reading about your adventures! Keep writing!

Donna

Anuj K Pradhan said...

Hey Andrew,

Came across your well written article and I liked the refreshing perspective on the Indian Idol contest viewed through the eyes of a visitor.

Would it be alright to republish your write-up at www.kalimpong.info, a website for kalimpong news and info. I would of course credit you as the author.

Please let me know. you can write to admin AT kalimpong.info.

Thanks, and keep up the writing. Good to read about Kalimpong.

Anuj K Pradhan said...

... or, if you prefer, it can be kept anonymous. :)

-Anuj