Famous, famous, famous…..* (* "In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes." – Andy Warhol, 1968)

Andy Warhol was a kind and considerate man. Considerate enough to sanction 15 minutes of fame to every human. When one hears his hypothesis today, one can easily conclude that he said this a long time ago which is true since he moved onto the great TV screen in the sky in 1987. If he were alive today and were a viewer of Cable TV in India, he would excise the 15 minutes that he so gleefully doled out, to 30 seconds. ‘Coz 30 seconds of fame is what each one of us is entitled to today.

Now pause to consider the facts that led one to this conclusion. Think an MTVish programme with its wandering minstrel reporter posing inane questions about movies, music, fashion and other such stuff to people trooping out of movie theatres, mall-rats, frenzied teens at a night club et al. The camera lingers on the person in question for a very brief Kodak moment. Open, shut and on the next. And the next. The sad part is that even those 30 seconds aren’t exclusively yours. You are forced to share the landscape with sundry gawkers and jokers of every hue and shade. You are just one of many. You are really not a face, just a fleeting voice. Whom nobody but yourself listens to.

Now get serious. Think Barkha Dutt or any other serious reporter discussing a current controversy. Picture a gathering of concerned souls, all nodding sagely agreeing with distinguished panelist or furiously shaking head in blatant disapproval. Pause. Now recall Barkha ‘taking questions from the audience’. You sir in the blue shirt, yes you, your question sir? This statement followed by a meandering commentary/ query /expression of concern on something or the other. Cut. Barkha again turning to distinguished panelist – What do you have to say to that, sir? And so on and so forth. See what I mean? Man in blue shirt has just got his 30 seconds and that’s that!

Let’s switch tracks now. Considering that one is an average Joe and the examples cited so far are also of average Joes and Janes, one can hear the positive thinkers carping about how things have actually improved. That atleast we can now hold forth on something or the other albeit just for 30 seconds etc. Consider the contrarian argument.

Well, the naysayer probably thinks that the average Joe/ Jane, the Everyman, aam aadmi, -  whatever you want to call him - has always had a raw deal, but the rich and the famous have it all going for them. They get their 15 minutes alright. All of it! Is that what you think? Pause once again. Think a film-based programme about a new, yet to be released film. Apollo or Apollo wannabe looks straight back at camera, flashes thumbs-up sign and briefly applauds the hard work done by all, the different role that Apollo has and appeals to the public to see the film. Cut. Onto Venus. Venus praises Directorji, Apolloji,  Choreographerji, Music Directorji and the flick’s energy. Cut. Directorji dwells on script, praises lyrics and the acting of Apolloji and Venusji. Trailer No.1 over. On to Trailer No.2. All done and wrapped up in about 93 seconds. About 31 seconds each. Now get my drift. No? The next instance should put you in the picture.

From the excesses and exhibitionism of Bollywood to the hallowed environs of Parliament where our netas have to contend with the strings and arrows of outrageous fortune. Picture the arrival of that ubiquitous government calling card – the white Amby. Portly neta shuffles out, adjusts khadi kurta, Gandhi cap, proceeds to pose for the cameras and then proceeds to speak into the collection of mikes all thrust forth at him waiting to pick up that sound byte. Neta holds forth for the government/against the government depending on weather conditions. Cut. Onto neta number 2, number 3. Now focus on glam doll turned Parliamentarian and then move onto ‘Youth Leader’, ‘Brat Pack’, ‘Young Turk’ whatever. Everyone has something to say. And what they say is a 2 minute capsule on ‘Opening Day of Parliament’s Winter Session’ or some other equally earth-shattering political event! 31 seconds per neta!! That’s that! The rich and famous get their 31. You get your 30. Let’s not hair split therefore. They’re not very much better off.

30 seconds. 30 seconds. An extraordinarily little piece of time, right? Well, look at it this way, R K Laxman’s Common Man hasn’t spoken at all in the last 50 years whereas you get your 15 minutes, I mean, 30 seconds in the sun. So, brave voyager, go forth and seek. Your 30 seconds are out there!