(some) great country for old people

Years ago, on the dilapidated lift of a multi-storey apartment complex, my co-traveller used to be a South superstar. With the bouncer/bodyguard era still a few years away as the elevator went uphill, we were the only two inmates of that makeshift prison. As nanoseconds turned into hours, I realized it was up to me to address the situation.

So, I said somewhat awkwardly, “I like your work, sir”. (I was telling the truth. I liked some of his work.) The older man thanked. But from seeing the face before her award-winning, Botox, it was apparently a first. I didn’t say I admired him, loved him unconditionally, wrote letters to him in blood or that I would kill myself if I didn’t watch his film on the first day. I said that I liked his work. Worst of all, wonder of wonder, I didn’t say that I am his fan.

Then I didn’t understand what I was saying. Nor was I saying it for effect. But I’ve figured out a few things since then. First, in a quarter century, the gentleman I bumped into in the elevator, who celebrated his aruvadam kalyanam A few years ago, still a superstar. He was bigger than her, in fact. But the interesting thing is that it is not an anomaly. So are his contemporaries from neighboring states. Like some of their sons are together.

Why do we love old people so much? And why are we a nation of fans? What is the reason why young men – undoubtedly the largest section of moviegoers – worship men ten years older than their fathers? Want to see young men sing and dance with these digitally-improved senior citizens, and above all, harass women of their twenties in the name of romance? What kind of mystery is this?

One could argue that even in Hollywood, the highest-paid biggest stars like Tom Cruise and Robert Downey Jr. aren’t even spring chickens at all. But someone is bathing in their stale milk, isn’t it? Or when was the last time a Cruise fan killed a Downey fan? Or when did any of them romance Chloe Grace Moretz or Dakota Fanning, wearing purple pants and a poorly fitting toupee?

Here’s what’s interesting, though. We worship the old men but our adoration is reserved for only a few of them: the oldies of movies, politics and spirituality, to be exact. His ‘Punch Dialogue’ on all subjects, from women’s behavior to whether it is good to have sex before marriage or not, is our primer. They can do no wrong. Because we are his fans.

But we are the oldest country when it comes to common men and women in all walks of life. A few days back, I met a man who was abusing me on Facebook. When I told him politely and firmly that I would not accept his kind of language or discourse on my page, he called me ‘uncle’ to humiliate me. When I told her I saw myself more in her scaffolding than her Mother, he realized that this old man still had some mileage left. and left.

How many times have we heard people shout “Kezhawa” or “Buddha” In traffic jam. How many times have we seen people humiliated, sidelined and dismissed for not being young.

As far as women in all walks of life go through the minute they cross the age of thirty, from the same men who adore these septuagenarian male superstars, no more detail is needed.

Krishna Sastri Devulapalli is a satirist. He has written four books and edited one anthology.