Maine Pyar Kiya, Hum Aapke Hain Kaun, Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, Hum Saath Saath Hain… whether you loved them or hated them, what is definite is that they were all box office successes. And over the past year, the success formula has now entered television down to the ever-so-long manes (Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi, Kahani Ghar Ghar Ki, Babul Ki Duayen Leti Ja…).But it’s more than just the long names that bind these serials together. Though the extended family structure is on the decline (especially in metros where most of these serials are situated), many revolve around business families with all the brothers (and occasional sister) living together with their respective wives and children. The action takes place in the spacious, modern decorated homes, amongst the women married or to-be-married: always impeccable in starched saris, glinting jewellery and prominent sindoor. And the only time the plots seems to move beyond household politics (revolving from bed-tea to a new bride), is when the family business is involved a cocooned and rather comfortable world, where the crises move around in convulated circles. This at a time when Indian women are heading governments, planning corporate take-overs and winning Olympic medals!
But you certainly wouldn’t think so, when flicking through the channels. Good daughter-in-laws vie for attention by cooking up feasts and bad ones attend kitty parties. Even really ambitious women stick to ‘women’s professions’: fashion designing, dance schools, flower shops. And when one woman dares to venture into the family business, hubby-dear advises against it: It would lead to ego clashes with him. Besides doesn’t she have enough work with cooking and ironing?
And yet, they seem content in these compartments. In fact, apart from serials like Saans, Heena and Kora Kagaz, the women are content in their marriages and the tension lines stretch between them: mother (Babul…), mother-in-law (Kyunki…), sister-in-law (Kahani…). The characters are often one-dimensional, sketched in colours of good, bad and ugly. And this attitude is carried forth in the issues that are referred to: pop music vs bhajans, English vs Hindi, super-rich vs not-so-rich, son vs daughter. Thus even in unusual circumstances, one can almost predict how the plot will move. So a soon-to-be great-grandma has to turn into an internationally renowned fashion designer (Kyunki…). A rejected wife has to marry her husband’s best friend (Heena). A divorced women has to get back with her husband, instead of the rather sensitive ‘other man’ (Saans).
While the situations may veer from the mundane (household chores) to the incredible (the return of a long-forgotten illegitimate daughter Kanyadaan), the dialogues remain cliched and completely unimaginative. Do we really need to be told that a woman without a man’s protection always appears available; or that a woman’s lot is full of sorrow; or that a wife is never beaten if she refrains from arguing with her husband! And a hilarious peculiarity of Kyunki… is its regular plugging of STAR Plus and the channel’s serials (like KBC).
What is most ironic, is that these serials which centre around and target women are strangely insensitive to their problems. The mother-in-law’s insecurity about the new bahu, the wife’s suspicions about the attractive secretary, or the young girl’s doubts about her fiance. Tiny irritants may be blown out of proportion, yet vulnerability is scoffed upon or exploited.
So as we enter into the real millennium, one can only wonder at the directions television soaps are taking. Definitely not pathbreaking, they are only taking a step backward in time and tradition.