The celebrity circus: everybody’s invited
The ‘Who quotient’ in any event could not be weightier. And the KBC-obsessed pesky neighbour’s kid wouldn’t just let it pass
(one question can change your life, doesn’t the promo video say? Well, this boy had just one too many).
Liz Hurley (who?), Arun Nayar (who?) and who are the ‘who’s who made it to the marriage?
Who missed it?
Who designed the dresses and who the tresses?
Who hosted the party?
Who? Who? Who?
As you respond to the barrage of ‘who’s with telling bouts of silence, you cannot help noticing the disappointment in his eyes, and the sneaking suspicion that your IQ just does not measure up.
Then he shoots a simple one. “Who is a celebrity?”
“A celebrity is…
well, a person who celebrates.”
It’s difficult to explain away celebritydom, the mysterious little borderless global island inhabited by people in a vaguely familiar yet distant lifestyle orbit; or, celebrityhood, the puzzling quantity, shaped as much by an individual’s achievements and gloss value as by the accident of riches (Arun, who?) and peer bonding (Liz, who?).
It is difficult to fathom whether the working philosophy beyond the camera-friendly, Page3-perfect happy bonding here
— manufactured or real —
rises above the celebration of riches and power.
Why must a simple marriage turn into a global event with no apparent wider social purpose?
“Celebrates what?” The kid breaks your reverie.
“All great life events, milestones in a fellow celebrity’s life, like engagement, marriage, success, and so on.”
“Why not divorce too, and death?”
“Cultures take time to evolve, boy.”
A moment’s confusion and he pipes up again.
“I want to be a celebrity.
They are such happy, beautiful people…
have the best of everything…
And I want to celebrate.”
Well, maybe this is one piece of the celebrity jigsaw.
It fuels lifestyle aspirations.
And a celebrity event is an undated invite to the island.