The clock is ticking...

Will Anil Kapoor’s 24 change the landscape of Indian television?

Like much of the world, I was addicted to 24. And like any fully paid-up addict, I would stock up on the good stuff, shut the door on the rest of the world, and mainline. Because I came to it rather late, I could swallow seasons one, two and three in one greedy gulp. Staying up till four in the morning, trying to squeeze just one more episode in, before the rising sun shamed me into going to bed, became a regular feature. And when my stock of old episodes ended and I had to wait for the new season, I suffered serious withdrawal symptoms.

Yes, as you've probably gathered by now, 24 was addictive. The central conceit of the series was that it chronicled 24 hours of a national security crisis in real time. Keifer Sutherland played the main character, Jack Bauer, as a superhero without the cape (and no visible underwear either, thank God!) maiming, torturing, blowing things up, and then torturing some more, to get to the bottom of some diabolical terrorist plot. The storyline tested the limits of our credulity, the stunts were sometimes plain unbelievable, and the twists and turns of the plot often bordered on the ludicrous. But the series was tightly scripted, fast paced, and things went by in such a blur that you didn't even notice the glaring holes in the plot - until much later, in bed, when you were running through the best moments in your head.

Looking back now, 24 was prescient in many ways. In giving us a Black candidate in the guise of the future President David Palmer in 2001, it eerily foreshadowed the election of Barack Obama in 2009. Its brutal rendering of the torture of terror suspects was an early hint of the Abu Ghraib-style security scandals to come. And who knows, the female US President Allison Taylor who premiered in 24 Redemption in 2008 and then starred in seasons 7 and 8, may well be a nod to the election of Hillary Clinton (the Democratic frontrunner for the 2016 polls) as the first woman President of the United States.

But watching all those endless episodes, perched at the edge of my seat, I was never prescient enough to think that I would soon see an Indian version of the series. No, not even when an Indian actor, Anil Kapoor, played an important role in the last and final season, starring as the ill-fated President Omar Hassan of the fictional Islamic Republic of Kamistan (modeled on Iran) who is assassinated by the bad guys – but not before putting in some good old-fashioned action hero stuff in the company of Bauer.

His messy end in the series notwithstanding, Anil Kapoor knew that he was on to a good thing. And after endless negotiations he bought the rights to make the Indian version of the show, with Kapoor himself playing the Jack Bauer role. In some ways, of course, Kapoor is uniquely qualified to play the superhero, or more accurately, the super anti-hero. His Mr India, released in 1987, brought the legend of the Invisible Superhero to us a full decade before JK Rowling wrote about the Invisibility Cloak in the first Harry Potter book in 1997. (Yes, yes, I know, H.G. Wells wrote The Invisible Man a century ago in 1897; we can play this game endlessly.)

As of this writing, the first two episodes of the Indian 24 have been aired on Colors. And I have to admit that my initial reservations about how this would work have been belied. The storyline is strong, the characters are well defined, the pace is fast, the action well choreographed, and bar a few, the performances are strong. Even the so-called Indianisation works. Instead of Presidential hopeful David Palmer we have a putative Prime Minister from a political dynasty that appears to be loosely based on the Gandhis.

So, will 24 be a game changer as far as Indian television is concerned? Will our TV production companies finally move away from their Saas-bahu Sagas and their Mangalsutra Melodramas, and give us quality television of the like that the West enjoys?

Well, frankly, it is too early to tell if there will be a substantive change in the Indian television landscape. Shows like 24 cost money, they need good writers, talented directors, committed producers, and a top-quality star cast to work. And so far, at least, Indian TV shows no signs of being able afford any of the above. So, I don't really see things changing very much in the short term.

What will change, I think, is Bollywood's attitude to television. Until now, Indian film stars have treated television fiction shows with a certain disdain. Everyone from Amitabh Bachchan to Salman Khan to Shah Rukh Khan is happy to play quizmaster to the nation. Stars like Madhuri Dixit, Hrithik Roshan are happy to turn up to judge singing and dancing competitions. And the likes of Karan Johar delight in hosting their own talk shows.

But TV series? That seems to be strict no-no (unless, of course, if you are a no-hoper like Vinod Khanna). This is in sharp contrast to the West where everyone from Glen Close (Damages) to Martin Sheen (West Wing) to Kate Winslet (Mildred Pierce) to Ashton Kutcher (Two And A Half Men) is happy to transition from the movies to TV (and back again). But rare is the film star in India who is willing to play a role in a TV drama.

That may well be changing though. Even before 24 aired, Amitabh Bachchan announced that he would be starring in a TV series directed by Anurag Kashyap on Sony. And where the great man goes, the rest are sure to follow.

The clock is ticking...

Will Anil Kapoor’s 24 change the landscape of Indian television?

Like much of the world, I was addicted to 24. And like any fully paid-up addict, I would stock up on the good stuff, shut the door on the rest of the world, and mainline. Because I came to it rather late, I could swallow seasons one, two and three in one greedy gulp. Staying up till four in the morning, trying to squeeze just one more episode in, before the rising sun shamed me into going to bed, became a regular feature. And when my stock of old episodes ended and I had to wait for the new season, I suffered serious withdrawal symptoms.

Yes, as you've probably gathered by now, 24 was addictive. The central conceit of the series was that it chronicled 24 hours of a national security crisis in real time. Keifer Sutherland played the main character, Jack Bauer, as a superhero without the cape (and no visible underwear either, thank God!) maiming, torturing, blowing things up, and then torturing some more, to get to the bottom of some diabolical terrorist plot. The storyline tested the limits of our credulity, the stunts were sometimes plain unbelievable, and the twists and turns of the plot often bordered on the ludicrous. But the series was tightly scripted, fast paced, and things went by in such a blur that you didn't even notice the glaring holes in the plot - until much later, in bed, when you were running through the best moments in your head.

Looking back now, 24 was prescient in many ways. In giving us a Black candidate in the guise of the future President David Palmer in 2001, it eerily foreshadowed the election of Barack Obama in 2009. Its brutal rendering of the torture of terror suspects was an early hint of the Abu Ghraib-style security scandals to come. And who knows, the female US President Allison Taylor who premiered in 24 Redemption in 2008 and then starred in seasons 7 and 8, may well be a nod to the election of Hillary Clinton (the Democratic frontrunner for the 2016 polls) as the first woman President of the United States.

But watching all those endless episodes, perched at the edge of my seat, I was never prescient enough to think that I would soon see an Indian version of the series. No, not even when an Indian actor, Anil Kapoor, played an important role in the last and final season, starring as the ill-fated President Omar Hassan of the fictional Islamic Republic of Kamistan (modeled on Iran) who is assassinated by the bad guys – but not before putting in some good old-fashioned action hero stuff in the company of Bauer.

His messy end in the series notwithstanding, Anil Kapoor knew that he was on to a good thing. And after endless negotiations he bought the rights to make the Indian version of the show, with Kapoor himself playing the Jack Bauer role. In some ways, of course, Kapoor is uniquely qualified to play the superhero, or more accurately, the super anti-hero. His Mr India, released in 1987, brought the legend of the Invisible Superhero to us a full decade before JK Rowling wrote about the Invisibility Cloak in the first Harry Potter book in 1997. (Yes, yes, I know, H.G. Wells wrote The Invisible Man a century ago in 1897; we can play this game endlessly.)

As of this writing, the first two episodes of the Indian 24 have been aired on Colors. And I have to admit that my initial reservations about how this would work have been belied. The storyline is strong, the characters are well defined, the pace is fast, the action well choreographed, and bar a few, the performances are strong. Even the so-called Indianisation works. Instead of Presidential hopeful David Palmer we have a putative Prime Minister from a political dynasty that appears to be loosely based on the Gandhis.

So, will 24 be a game changer as far as Indian television is concerned? Will our TV production companies finally move away from their Saas-bahu Sagas and their Mangalsutra Melodramas, and give us quality television of the like that the West enjoys?

Well, frankly, it is too early to tell if there will be a substantive change in the Indian television landscape. Shows like 24 cost money, they need good writers, talented directors, committed producers, and a top-quality star cast to work. And so far, at least, Indian TV shows no signs of being able afford any of the above. So, I don't really see things changing very much in the short term.

What will change, I think, is Bollywood's attitude to television. Until now, Indian film stars have treated television fiction shows with a certain disdain. Everyone from Amitabh Bachchan to Salman Khan to Shah Rukh Khan is happy to play quizmaster to the nation. Stars like Madhuri Dixit, Hrithik Roshan are happy to turn up to judge singing and dancing competitions. And the likes of Karan Johar delight in hosting their own talk shows.

But TV series? That seems to be strict no-no (unless, of course, if you are a no-hoper like Vinod Khanna). This is in sharp contrast to the West where everyone from Glen Close (Damages) to Martin Sheen (West Wing) to Kate Winslet (Mildred Pierce) to Ashton Kutcher (Two And A Half Men) is happy to transition from the movies to TV (and back again). But rare is the film star in India who is willing to play a role in a TV drama.

That may well be changing though. Even before 24 aired, Amitabh Bachchan announced that he would be starring in a TV series directed by Anurag Kashyap on Sony. And where the great man goes, the rest are sure to follow.

Age is just a number...

But only if you are a hero in Bollywood; heroines come with an expiry date

There’s one thing that the three reigning superstars of Bollywood have in common. And no, it’s not that they all rejoice in the surname Khan, though God knows that has been commented upon a million times. What binds Salman, Shah Rukh and Aamir together is that they are all 48 this year.

Go a little further down the rung of super-stardom and it is pretty much the same story. Saif Ali Khan is 43; Akshay Kumar is 45; Ajay Devgn is 44; hell, even Hrithik Roshan is nudging 40 (he hits that milestone birthday next January). And all of them are doing very well indeed at the box-office, singing and dancing, romancing the ladies, and beating the bad boys to a bloody pulp, thank you very much.

Now, here’s a challenge for you. Can you name a single Bollywood actress who is still a top star past the age of 38? Yes, take your time. Scroll down the list of all the usual suspects. Use that old search engine thingie. Phone a friend. Found anyone who is still a significant player past that magical figure? No, I thought not.

Something mysterious seems to happen to our actresses as they creep – ever so slowly and oh so unwillingly; but honestly, given what awaits, can you really blame them? – towards their late 30s. One minute they are flying high on the helium balloon of success and the next they have crash-landed on hard ground. And no amount of Botox, Juvederm or plastic surgery can ever make them whole again. Well, not in the eyes of film producers and directors anyway.

When it comes to female stars, ageing seems to be calculated in dog years where 16 equals 25; 25 equals 30; and 38 equals death (at the box-office, at any rate).

No matter how brightly their star may have shone before, it tends to fizzle out around the mid 30s mark. Sridevi last big release was Judaai in 1997 and she effectively retired from the business at 34. And it is telling that she only put one cautious toe out to test the waters once she was pushing 50 and unambiguously past leading-lady age.

It is no secret that Madhuri Dixit struggled to find a decent role in her last years in the business. Or that Karisma Kapoor never managed a comeback after marriage and kids, even though she has never looked better. Rani Mukherjee tries hard to stay relevant with releases like No One Killed Jessica, but we can all see that this is a losing battle. And even Aishwarya Rai, delivered her last big movie, Guzaarish, in 2010, at the venerable age of 37 (though if anyone can make a sizzling comeback, it is her).

And these are the stars who have actually been on top of the heap for most of their time in moviedom. Those who were lower down in the pecking order fare even worse. Preity Zinta struggles on gamely at 38, but even she has to produce the movies she stars in (and it doesn’t help when they are like Ishkq in Paris). And Bipasha Basu seems to have slipped completely off the radar at a youthful 34.

But while the women fall by the wayside like so many dominoes, the men just go on and on. It’s almost as if with male stars the ageing process has been halted by some ancient alchemical process. Ever since Raj Kapoor and Dilip Kumar canoodled with actresses half their age, Bollywood heroes have seen it as a badge of pride to be paired with heroines who could well be their daughters. In fact, some of the heroines Amitabh Bachchan, Shashi Kapoor, Dharamendra have romanced on-screen could well have been their granddaughters.

And over the years we have become so inured to this December-April pairing that we see nothing incongruous about Salman Khan playing the romantic lead against Sonakshi Sinha who was two years old when he became a star with Maine Pyar Kiya. Or when Shah Rukh Khan sings and dances around the trees with Anoushka Sharma, who was five years old when he was stammering K.K.K.K.Kiran in Darr (Deepika Padukone was seven years old at that time, in case you are interested).

I wondered about this as I watched Madhuri Dixit (Shah Rukh’s co-star in Dil To Pagal Hai) play judge on the TV dance reality show Jhalak Dhikla Jaa, biding time, no doubt, till she is old enough to play the glamorous yummy mummy or the beatific badi bhabhi (given that her comeback vehicle Aaja Nachle didn’t exactly set the cinema screens on fire). Is this the way the cookie will always crumble for our Bollywood heroines? Or will the film industry change its sexist, ageist ways?

The way I look at it, Kareena Kapoor Khan will be the test case. At 33, she is veering close to the danger mark. Will she be able to change the rules? Well, I am sure we wish her the very best but if I were you, I wouldn’t hold my breath.

His name is (Shah Rukh) Khan

And he is entitled to have a conversation about what it means to be Muslim in India without having his patriotism questioned

By now I am sure all of you are au fait with the latest controversy to erupt around the Badshah of Bollywood, Shah Rukh Khan. But for those of you inhabiting a parallel universe, here are the bare bones. Khan gave an interview to an international publication called Outlook Turning Points in which, among other things, he discussed being a Muslim in a post 9/11 world.

It was in this context that he made his now-infamous statement. “I sometimes become the inadvertent object of political leaders who choose to make me a symbol of all that they think is wrong and unpatriotic about Muslims in India...There have been occasions when I have been accused of bearing allegiance to our neighbouring country rather than my own country – this even though I am an Indian, whose father fought for the freedom of India. Rallies have been held where leaders have exhorted me to leave and return to what they refer to as my original homeland.”

No sooner had this interview hit the stands than Hafiz Saeed, no slouch when it comes to self-promotion, issued a statement inviting Shah Rukh Khan to come live in Pakistan if he felt unsafe in India. The Pakistani terror mastermind added generously that Khan could stay in Pakistan as long as he liked.

Cue, shock, horror and outrage in the Indian media, best summed up by the headline Firstpost gave to its comment piece on the controversy. “King of Victimhood,” it screamed, “Shah Rukh Khan bites the hand that fed him.” After much fulminating about how Shah Rukh didn’t really deserve the adulation of the Indian masses – who worshipped him without worrying about his religion – the writer went to exhort Khan to “grow up” and “take it on the chin like a man” and not provide space for “low-life terrorists like Hafiz Saeed to take pot-shots at India”.

Okay, now that you’re all up to speed, let’s just see what happened there.

Shah Rukh Khan’s jibe at some political leaders who targeted him was clearly a reference to the late Bal Thackeray and the Shiv Sena, with whom he has had a troubled history. Has the Shiv Sena doubted Shah Rukh Khan’s patriotism on occasion? Yes, it has. Has it accused him of being a Pakistani sympathiser? Yes, it has. Has it held demonstrations during which Khan was asked to go ‘home’ to Pakistan? Yes, it has.

So far, so true.

Now that we have cleared up what Khan said, here’s a quick summary of what Shah Rukh did NOT say. Did he say that he had been targeted by the people of India because of his religion or his surname? No, he did not. Did he complain about how his film career had suffered because he was a Muslim? No, he did not. Did he accuse film-goers of being biased against him because of whom and how he worshipped? No, he did not.

In other words, he did not bite the millions of hands that had fed him. He did not spit in the face of the fans who have made him what he is. So why attack him on completely spurious grounds? I can understand taking on a man for what he said. But targeting him for something he did not say? That is just plain stupid.

Is it Khan’s fault that Hafiz Saeed pounced on this interview to extend an invitation to him to come live in Pakistan? No, it isn’t. And it would be the ultimate triumph of the two-nation theory if we can’t even have a conversation about what it means to be a Muslim in India without getting all defensive about Pakistan.

Which of us can deny that it isn’t always easy having a Muslim surname in India? Never mind the festering wounds inflicted by the shameful riots of Gujarat, everyday life comes with its own set of challenges. Just finding someone willing to rent you a house becomes a Herculean task. Negotiating a job interview can be a minefield. Getting a passport is a veritable nightmare. (And when you do, racial profiling follows you to every immigration counter in the world.)

And yet, such is the inherent strength and strange beauty of India’s secularism that the three biggest stars in the Bollywood firmament – Salman, Aamir and Shah Rukh – can rejoice in the name of Khan. Surely that is something to celebrate in a world that is increasingly fractious and divided?

We should take pride in the fact that it doesn’t matter how much political leaders try and divide us on the basis of religion. At the end of the day, the people of India worship who they want to, irrespective of which God they – or the objects of their devotion – worship.

Small vs silver

TV stars abroad may quality as A-listers; but in India they remain on the C-list


Over the last couple of years I’ve become a fan of Glee, the US television series set in all-American high school. And my favourite character is the cheerleading coach Sue Sylvester. So, imagine my joy when Jane Lynch – who plays crazy, driven Sue with a delightfully demented gleam in her eye – was chosen to host this year’s Emmy awards. And whatever the fashion fascistas may have thought of Jane’s frocks – cue shock and horror – I thought she did a bang-up job. (And that’s the way Seema sees it!)

But what struck me much more forcibly at the Emmys was the wealth of A-grade stars lined up on the red carpet. In fact, such was the glut of celebrity in the presentation hall that you searched in vain to see an unfamiliar face. There was Gwyneth Paltrow, who won a special award for her guest star turn on Glee. There was Kate Winslet, looking absolutely ecstatic at winning for Mildred Pierce. There was Christina Hendricks of Mad Men fame, her legendary curves poured into a shimmering dress that could barely contain them. It was easy to see that this was an A-list gathering – because almost every lady in the room could pass the litmus test of celebrity, with her cellulite and cleavage under the daily scrutiny of the tabloid press.

That’s what set me thinking. If I tuned in to see an equivalent awards show for Indian entertainment television – and yes, you’re right, I wouldn’t really – I would be hard-pressed to recognise a single star. Yes, there would be some faces which would look vaguely familiar. Was that Anandi what’s-her-name from Balika Badhu? Is that the actress who plays the eternal Savitri Bhabhi (not to be confused with the other, much-maligned Savita Bhabhi?
S
The only faces I could place with some degree of certainty would be the stars of reality television – Rakhi Sawant, Dolly Bindra – but only because the news channels play them up every day in their entertainment shows. And even then I would be hard pressed to tell Veena Malik from Payal Rohatgi or Ashmit Patel from Sameer Soni.

Not because I am some sort of sad snob, but because our entertainment channels don’t really produce A-list stars. Our TV actors may have their 15 minutes of fame while their shows are doing well. But they soon fade away never to be heard of again. Who remembers Gracy Singh, for instance? Or Jassi of Jassi Jaisi Koi Nahin? Or even Dakshaben from Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi? In fact, the only cast member of that iconic show who survives in our consciousness is Smriti ‘Tulsi’ Irani – and then only because she has since recast herself as a BJP politician and turns up on news channels regularly to give us the benefit of her wisdom.

The truth is that no matter how much transient fame our TV stars achieve during their all-too-brief careers, they never really graduate to the A-list. They never rate a glossy magazine cover, for instance. Nor are they ever signed up to endorse top-end products like sports stars and film actors are.

Contrast this to the kind of stardom that TV actors achieve in the America and Britain. The stars of Friends are still considered to be A-listers. Celebrity magazines are still obsessed with the love lives of Jennifer Aniston and Courtney Cox. Matt LeBlac may have flopped spectacularly with Joey, but he still has enough star value for a new show – Episodes – to be created around his real-life persona. More recently, the actors of Desperate Housewives and Mad Men have become bona fide stars. In fact, Eva Longoria’s wedding and subsequent divorce was accorded the same treatment as Tom Cruise’s nuptials to Katie Holmes.

In the UK, the stars of Downton Abbey are forever being written up in the press. The British show, The Only Way is Essex – better known as TOWIE – has attained near cult-status. And it’s not for nothing that the legendary British actor, Alec Guinness, followed up his role in Star Wars with the TV mini-series, Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy.

Across the Atlantic, such is the power of television that even big Hollywood stars think nothing of working in TV shows. At the height of her fame, Meryl Streep starred in a TV series, Angels in America; Glen Close did a magnificent job in Damages and The Shield; Robert Downey Jr dazzled in Ally McBeal; and Alec Baldwin continues to sparkle in 30 Rock alongside Tina Fey.

One measure of the power of these TV shows is how many A listers they can pull in as guest stars. Gwyneth Paltrow in Glee is perhaps the most famous one. But the last season of 30 Rock had Tom Hanks, Matt Damon, Bono, Condoleeza Rice, Michael Keaton and Alan Alda come on as guest stars.

Contrast this with India when Bollywood actors only condescend to work in TV serials if their careers have completely collapsed. Otherwise, the only way you can tempt them on to television is to give them several crores to host a quiz show or a reality TV programme. So while Amitabh Bachchan is happy to front Kaun Banega Crorepati and Salman Khan and Sanjay Dutt will do the honours for Bigg Boss, and Akshay Kumar will do his usual dare-devilry for Khatron Ke Khiladi, no A-list film actor will ever deign to act in a TV series.

In India, at least, it seems that television is doomed to remain the ‘small’ screen forever, while the biggies strut their stuff on the ‘silver’ one. And more’s the pity.

Vanity fair

There is something wrong with a world in which your man has more beauty products than you do

So, what is it going to be? Go grey with dignity? Or dye unto death? I am, for a change, talking about men here. Should the male of the species allow nature to take its course or should he fall back on the marvels of artifice and hair colour?

I can see the arguments on both sides of the dye divide. Grey hair on men can be both distinguished and sexy in a slightly rakish George Clooney/Richard Gere sort of way. It shows that you have grown up and – with a bit of luck – grown out of childish things. You are ready to be taken seriously. And, more importantly, you have more weighty things to think about than the greying of your locks.

On the other hand, there is no denying the fact that greying hair only suits a few people like Kapil Sibal or my former boss Aveek Sarkar. On most others, well, it just makes them look old – sometimes much older than they really are. So, the temptation to reach out for a bit of hair colour is quite understandable.

And in today’s age, when people are judged by appearances more than ever, it is only to be expected that everyone from David Cameron and Barack Obama to Amitabh Bachchan and Shah Rukh Khan is hitting the bottle (of hair dye, I hasten to add) with a vengeance.

These days, it’s all about looking youthful and seeming virile. And frankly, what’s wrong with that?

If we don’t judge women for booking themselves in for fortnightly root touch-ups interspersed with the odd session of highlights, then why should we treat men who dabble in dye with derision?

But while I am willing to grant men a dispensation when it comes to hair colour, I must confess that I have a problem with some of the more outré expressions of male vanity you see on display of late.

Call me sexist – and I am sure you will – but I can’t help but feel that there is something faintly ludicrous about men signing up for a ‘pampering facial’ complete with steaming open of pores, removal of blackheads and a little gentle massage. Whatever happened to the days when men just had an extra-close shave when they were looking for smoother skin? When did all these exfoliating scrubs, deep-cleansing creams and hydrating moisturisers (with an SPF count of no less than 30) find their way into the male grooming routine?

I am guessing it was about the time that the word metrosexual first crept into our dictionary. But even allowing for the fact that men have as much of a right to smell nice and have silky smooth skin as women, don’t you think that things are getting a tad out of hand now?

Now be honest here, ladies. Don’t you feel that there is something wrong with a world in which he has more skincare products than you do? Doesn’t it annoy you that he spends more time than you in front of the mirror worrying about his complexion (and wondering if it’s worth giving Fair and Handsome a whirl)? Isn’t it plain wrong that he has more clothes than you do and spends far longer in front of his wardrobe agonising about what to wear? Or that he takes much longer than you to get dressed for an evening out? (I mean, seriously, what is that about? Keeping a man waiting while you fussed over your make-up was just about the last honest pleasure left to us!)

And don’t even get me started on this new-fangled craze for male depilation. There is something faintly ridiculous about all that waxing of chest hair, so that those man boobs built up so carefully at the gym can be displayed to their best advantage. You know the kind of guys who do this kind of stuff, don’t you? The kind who model themselves on Salman Khan, spend all their free time in the gym, admiring their own muscles in the mirror as they work out their glutes/pecs/or whatever the hell they are called. And then, it’s off for a steam and sauna, until they finally shower with their lime-scented gels and moisturise, moisturise, moisturise.

In keeping with the Salman Khan image, hair is a big obsession as well. And it’s not just aspiring models and film stars who are signing up for hair weaves, hair extensions or even, the Holy Grail of them all, hair transplants. These days everyone wants thick lustrous hair, from your Average Joe in middle management to the foul-mouthed macho chef Gordon Ramsay (who was recently pictured with that tell-tale bandage at the back of his head). In India, rumour has it, even young male stars sign on for the procedure – not because they are balding (far from it) but simply because it would give them a thicker head of hair.

I’m sorry, but what exactly is sexy about a man who is so insecure about his looks that he has to have a surgical procedure to boost his own confidence? I’ll take the insouciant charm of a bald Sean Connery or a shaven Bruce Willis over this kind of self-consciousness any day. And so, I suspect, would most women.

Truth be told, there is something faintly repellent about this new-found, over-the-top vanity of men. And it makes me long for the days when a dash of Old Spice was all they needed to work their magic.