Dear Salman,
It occurred to me the other day that rather than condemn you for your various misdemeanours and onerous utterances, we should endeavour to reach out and undo the misconceptions and confusions that you so obviously harbour, that lead to these objectionable acts and statements in the first place.
For starters, let us take your recent statement about the gruelling shoots you had to undergo for your latest film, whose trailer I saw and quite liked a few days ago, but have decided not to watch on its release.
The statement you made at a press conference, recorded for posterity and in the presence of a sizeable number of media personnel, alluded to the fact that shoots had been so challenging that they made you feel 'like a raped woman' when you walked out of the ring.
I wonder why it is you chose that expression given that the more natural thing would have been to say, "I felt like I'd done twelve rounds with Mike Tyson". Or, "I felt like Raghuram Rajan being mauled by Subramanian Swamy."
These analogies would not only have brought home the point you were trying to make more effectively, but they would have amply demonstrated your grasp of current affairs too.
Similarly, when you found yourself in a late night accident, caused by a car that you "happened to be in" and surrounded by grievously-wounded victims, I wonder what it is that made you turn and run instead of stopping to reach out and ferry them to the nearest hospital?
That would have been the most natural and expected thing to do.
An accident involving a famous film star occurring in the heart of Bandra in an age of 24x7 reportage cannot be hidden. Regardless of this, there were persons already disfranchised in so many ways, who had incurred injuries through no fault of theirs.
What made you turn on your heels and depart from the scene instead of staying and helping?
Imagine if you had stayed and offered your ample resources and capabilities to try and set some of the damage right, by taking them to hospital, paying for their recovery, etc., it would not only have brought relief and succour to those unfortunate victims, but contributed vastly to your own self esteem and peace of mind.
Saying the right or wrong thing, doing the right or wrong thing, is after all a conscious decision we all make.
At every instance, every moment, we are called upon to choose from one of two choices: the right one and the wrong one.
What makes you do the things you do, Salman?
Take the case of shooting animals on the endangered list.
The blackbuck, also known as the Indian antelope, is the sole extant member of the genus Antelope. Due to its sharply-declining population, its hunting is prohibited under Schedule I of the Wildlife Protection Act of 1972.
What made you undertake a safari for the purpose of shooting it?
The call of the wild is an irresistible one and to embark on a journey on a jeep with one's friends and colleagues into a thickly-forested jungle is no doubt invigorating, especially for a high-spirited, young man.
But why did it not occur to you that even more pleasure could have been derived from the shooting of the majestic animals you came across with a camera — and not with a gun?
After all, it's a no-brainer: shoot with gun, you end up taking an innocent life and are left with bones and blood and a court case that will not go away; shoot instead with camera and you have the experience preserved proudly for life.
Why did this not occur to you, Salman? What is it that makes you blind to the obvious choices that most choose so obviously?
Choices that might appear tough, but in actuality are not. They are, in fact, what most average people subscribe to — what are described simply as 'being human'.
So amidst all the responses, adulatory or condemnatory, that come your way as you gear up for your big release, I thought of penning some thoughts about your deeds and utterances, not with rancour or condemnation, but with a genuine intent to understand and communicate, as would be prudent. This too is called 'being human'.
With every good wish,
Yours sincerely, etc
malavikasmumbai@gmail.com
(The columnist believes in the art of letter writing. Views are personal and do not reflect the paper's stance)
