Malvika's Ramblings

A humourless TV watcher in Canada

I have to admit, days pass fruitlessly with me staring at the TV and I have now absorbed the Canadian TV content. So much so, that anything new on TV looks like a repetition.

Oprah with all kinds of oddities - families where the father or husband changed into a woman. Dr.Phil with a Hobo who abandoned his family. The Hobo meets his daughter on TV after 17 years to face a lot of resentment from her. Child prodigies. Fighting newlyweds who try to solve their problems amidst hitting, pulling hair and sessions of talking. A tattoed one-armed guy talking to his ex-girlfriend who he left for a whore on the Jerry Springer show. A lot of talk shows where sympathy and sadism go hand in hand. Montel discussing infidelity in marriages and talking to people from www.ashleymadison.com - a website that offers romantic options to people who want to look outside their marriages. High Drama. After sometime you get immune to untimely marriages and pregnancies, weird occupations, anomolous families and magic grass mowers.

Then there is late night TV with young girls strutting their stuff and asking you to call on certain phone numbers to 'make new friends'. It's always girls. There is never a guy asking you to call up. One of the girls looked like a female version of Jerry Seinfeld as she twisted (erotically?) on a sunbathing chair. I dont know who would get turned on by that. Turn to another channel and you get Spanish porn with the storyline of a photographer doing a nude artistic shoot. I guess its something the English and French speaking Canadians and an Indian (yours truly) would watch given the fact that Music and Porn have no boundaries.

A whole category of shows is devoted to Britney bashing. While Britney related remarks became fashionable a while ago, now its cool to ask people to go easy on Spears. In her MTV music awards stage performance she wore a two piece bikini and had a terrible body. Some people are going ugh while others are saying Britney was okay in their attempt to support the 'we are all humans' and 'be yourself' and 'you dont have to celebrity perfect' and 'lets support real bodies' cause. Everyone is more or less confused. The paparazzi is relentless as usual but I guess they are a bit scared after they drove Princess Diana to her death.

There is one channel which has 10 different shows each on Women's makeovers and Home makeovers. So if you watch that channel its a woman then home then woman then home then woman then home makeover. Stylists go into the wardrobes of ill-dressed ordinary women and pick out their clothes, holding them like a person would hold soiled diapers. They express their disgust fully before throwing aside the outdated prom dress or wide trousers as the owner of the wardrobe smiles sportingly, thinking that at least all this crap she is taking will lead to a good makeover. Sometimes they defend themselves sunnily saying "But I like that.. Its a WARM coat.." and the stylist guy says "But honey.. its got no style.. where do you wear it? Like at Eskimo funerals ?``

News is good in Canada. Its not as drab as Indian news and it feels good to see negligible stories on rape. What they do have though, is incidents with students gunning down others at school. Its a nice feeling when they report that an ancient tree fell in a forest or that ships have been banned from a waterway for a couple of months because whales visit that area at that time. Many woman news presenters are plastic though. Their face is so botox firm that they can't raise their eyebrows. They can just blink and move their lips a bit. Definitely plastic.

In the advertisements I miss the colour and storylines that Indian ads have. Canadian ads are more about a guy describing the product or a woman telling how a certain mop made her life better. Many ads for cosmetics and creams are based on age-defying formulae - something that says a lot about the Canadian population and lifestyle. I am getting bored of the way I am writing this article - very report-type with no jokes. Malvika crack a joke. Remember - jokes. Connect with the reader. Go ha ha. A slap on the back. Some more cameraderie..and all that. Okay.

And then there are the programs that I call classics - the ones that are responsible for me getting glued to TV whether I want or not. The Simpsons, Family Guy, Everybody loves Raymond, Friends, That 70s Show. And for some reason they are playing two episodes of each back to back. What a treat! A reason I end up procrastinating and cancelling my evening jog or visit to the gym. Its the time when I begin to empty my refridgerator slowly and steadily. 3 yoghurt cups of vanilla, mango and starwberry and a chocolate doughnut make it perfect.

When I do go to bed, the shows are not over. The TV is off but new stories start off in my head. I dream. And the shows change so fast, as if i were channel-surfing. All the stuff I see here is arbitrary. At one time I am climbing a snow mountain, at another I am avoiding a plane crash - yellow aeroplane for some reason. Then I am checking out a fellow classmate's tattoo and having a long discussion about. I wake up well slept and fine. I guess TV has become one background noise I have started to live with.

Oh by the way, my mom was great. She banned TV in the house and I and my sister did spend our time under the sun and on badminton courts. 3 years in Delhi, living in rented apartments that changed quickly meant no TV as well. Canada, room 908 B, Phillips TV is undoing all that.

Here is a poem by Roald Dahl - one of my favourite authors who I always imagine as stuffing his tall self into the cockpit of an RAF plane

Television

The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set --
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink --
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES!
'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say,
'But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!'
We'll answer this by asking you,
'What used the darling ones to do?
'How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?'
Have you forgotten? Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow:
THEY ... USED ... TO ... READ! They'd READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr. Rate and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They'll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.
And once they start -- oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.

Roald Dahl