A letter to Ekta Kapoor

Dear Ms Kapoor,

I wasn’t sure of the spelling of your name, what with numerological considerations. So, please forgive me for resorting to the conventional spelling of your last name. I know that in order for my letter to even merit a glance of your esteemed self, I would have to sufficiently alter the spelling of my name in accordance with the rules of numerology. My signature will tell you that I have changed my name from the numerologically unsound “Jane Doe” to the numerologically sound “Kjaane Kdoie”.You will be happy to know, I’m sure, that I intend to change it legally through an affidavit and there will be an announcement about the name change in The Times of India shortly.

But, enough about me. Let’s talk about you. I have been a great admirer of yours ever since your soaps took Indian television by storm. Your soaps have captivated thousands, set many fashion trends, made numerology a much sought after science (yes, I believe you. It is very scientific), made small-time actors household names and you the unquestionable Queen bee of the idiot-box, sorry, small screen. Having followed your sky-rocketing career graph closely, I firmly believe that you should run for President in the next presidential selection oops, election.

(I would have advised you to seek the post of Prime Minister, but that post requires actual work. So let’s leave politicking to the boring old fogies in Delhi, with no fashion sense and you can enjoy the post of the nominal head of our nation and still continue to do good work for Indian television.)

I am aware that you are a shrewd businesswoman and wouldn’t take any declarations at face value, albeit made by a fellow numerology aficionado. So, I have buttressed my views with facts and figures. I hear that you are a busy woman, so I’ve collated the said facts and figures in bullet points.

• You will be backed by at least 65.34% of the women in the age-group of 15- 100 (the upper limit is undecided, for obvious reasons). And that’s only a conservative estimate of the viewership of your soap operas; there are many, many more women (and men, if whispers discussing your serials at office water coolers or during coffee breaks are anything to go by) who watch your serials but are too ashamed to admit it. I have every reason to believe that you reign the 9-11 pm time-slot, known as “prime time” in TV parlance. Women who watch your serials are generally quite docile, but come 9 p.m. every Mon-Thu, they turn into GI-Janes if anyone dares to take the remote away from them or so much as breathes “channel-surfing”. With such obvious militant tendencies bubbling beneath the thin veneer of serenity, they would definitely take up cudgels if your candidature fell through and the authorities wouldn’t be able to deal with them. You have muscle-power on your side. And in India that counts for a lot.

• The grandparents and parents of twenty-year olds in your soaps, look like they have just stepped into their thirties and mid to late twenties, respectively. Tell me, Ms Kapoor, have you found the Elixir of Youth? You surely must be in possession of some secret technology that prolongs youth and makes anti-ageing creams and botox seem medieval. With such a potent weapon in your arsenal, your victory is guaranteed. Given the obsession with youth and beauty, you with your answer to the prayers of thousands fighting a losing battle against wrinkles, are bound to have sufficient bargaining power and leverage to bag the post.

• The protagonists in your serials seem to have boundless energy. Again, Ms. Kapoor, what is the secret? They run business empires worth 100 crores, throw lavish bashes at the drop of a hat, organize parties/festivals/ceremonies for weddings/child-births/birthdays/ recovery from illnesses, accidents etc/ ear-piercing/ breathing, solve the problems of all and sundry in their burgeoning joint families, sire numerous children (caring a whit for the population explosion in India), go to the gym, hold elaborate praying rituals, scheme and counter-scheme to bait the villains of the piece and still have enough energy/time to make aloo-parathas for the aforementioned family. Phew! Just that list boggles my mind. With this energy, you are well-set for world domination. Imagine the number of problems you could solve- poverty, cancer, AIDS, terrorism- to name a few which beset us. Surely, as President, you could do much good.

• And the women in your shows. Man, they look as fresh as daisies when they wake up in the morning, not a hair out of place, impeccable faces, no puffy eyes, draped in beautiful silk saris- quite the opposite of what I look like after a good-night’s sleep. I’m sure all the women (and men) in India would be grateful to look like that, effortlessly, in the morning (the men sans the silk saris, of course). And as President of the country, it would be incumbent upon you to make sure that your subjects are well-groomed and you, Ms. Kapoor, would be equal to the task given your vast experience. You would be like manna from heaven for those aspiring to be “shiny happy people”.

• And you have always upheld Indian culture in your soaps. All the leading lads and ladies in your serials are fashioned after Ram-Sita, Arjun, Savitri-Satyavan and even the villains are like Ravana, Duryodhan and so on. You have introduced “our culture” to a generation raised on a staple diet of MTV, that representative of “western” culture. I’m sure you would be a worthy icon and parents would urge their tots to emulate you. And what better example than the president of India?

• You have given hopes to thousands of plain-janes who want to look like anyone but themselves. Plastic surgery has come to the rescue of so many unfortunate people who have had accidents in your soaps. Not only does it alter facial features, but it also transforms one into a completely new person- new voice, new hair, new height, new eye colour, new weight. (Will you please make me look like, ummm, Catherine Zeta Jones?) Imagine the multitudes of people you would be helping as president.

So you see Ms. Kapoor, I have very compelling reasons to urge you to give the post of President serious consideration. Do ponder carefully about the points I’ve made. I request you to keep in mind the hopes and dreams of thousands when you make your mind.

With warm regards,
Kjaane Kdoie.
(formerly Jane Doe)