The well-traversed territory of reality TV holds little in the way of surprises. Yet, watching the mind-boggling talents (and travails) of ordinary people doesn’t fail to trigger an emotional response. In the latest season of MasterChef India on Sony TV, a vast array of unexplored regional cuisines make their debut, the chosen participants revelling in the rare opportunity to display their skills, and by default, showcasing the nation’s rich culinary history. A PhD student studying landscape gardening added a stylish flourish to the traditional Odisha dessert ‘Gaintha Pitha’ by using the edible aparajita flower, its delicate blue colour visually transforming the dish. A cake artist from Kolkata ingeniously combined cinnamon flavoured apples with dark chocolate. Let it be said that there’s certainly no dearth of creativity in young India, what’s sorely lacking is an environment to nurture entrepreneurial strength.
We’re all suckers for a good, old-fashioned fairy tale, especially one that reflects conflicting attitudes between the city and the village, and exposes the profound gulfs between the powerful and the powerless. By and large, reality television taps into the fantasies and tough luck stories we imbibed growing up, so we gravitate towards content that help people find their romantic destinies, like in Indian Matchmaking, or cheer the underdog striving to win Rs 1 crore in Kaun Banega Crorepati. Of course, besides the wannabe Cinderellas and aspiring millionaires, the reality genre plays to our voyeuristic sides. Hence, Big Boss thrives on unscripted lies and manipulation. The pedestrian melodrama pales quickly, but commiserating with peoples’ struggles and hard-fought victories is always thought provoking.
One of the most endearing contestants on MasterChef, Mohabat Deep Singh Cheema, lamented that the biggest obstacle he faced while setting up a food truck in his village in Punjab, came from within his own family. Cheema’s relatives till 100 acres, and considered it beneath their dignity that the scion would run a rehdi like a street vendor. (In the cities we’ve moved past it, but elsewhere in India, there is a caste system in professions as well; doctors/engineers/bureaucrats are at the top of the pyramid and cooks/chefs hover at the bottom.) Cheema’s innovative ‘Paneer Makhni Pizza’, made from freshly procured makki aata and capsicum growing in his fields, is a runaway hit but the resistance he faced for quitting an American bank to start his own venture is a story every ambitious youngster is familiar with. Ultimately, in India, choosing a career is a family decision: 20-somethings don’t usually have the courage to assert themselves, largely because they’re unsure of what the future holds.
It takes time to figure out what one is good at and that’s precisely what Indian parents can’t tolerate — a directionless adult exploring unconventional disciplines. However, obediently listening to one’s forefathers (who pray at the altar of financial security) isn’t going to reap the dividends it once did either. At the Bangkok airport recently, while I was window shopping, a cleaning robot startled me with its peevish tone, “Excuse me, you’re in my way.” Fooling around on ChatGPT, the revolutionary AI chatbot that can write original essays, it took seconds for the bot to answer my prompt: to write me a love poem. The sonnet didn’t make me swoon in ecstasy but as the technology improves, journalists will have to wonder if AI will make them obsolete. The point being, automation is advancing way faster than new jobs are being created; chances are these MasterChef contestants, uniquely skilled and passionately interested in cooking, will change their lives much faster through food than they could by doing grunt work at an MNC.
We learn too late that we don’t have to do everything we’re told to do. Alas, by the time we’ve got around to defying convention, a significant number of years have gone by. The way to look at it is, even the scenic route eventually leads you to where you want to be.
The writer is director, Hutkay Films