“Who is the prime minister of India?’’
‘‘What was the name of the character played by Sushmita Sen in Biwi No. 1?’’
‘‘Which films has David Dhawan directed?’’
‘‘Which actors starred in a movie called Trishanku?’’

No, I wasn’t watching Derek O’ Brien’s quiz programme. Instead I was listening keenly to a music channel programming guy narrating an incident. Said the worthy gentleman: ‘‘We conducted an informal youth survey recently since we wanted to improve the quality of some of our shows. There have been accusations that we cater to the lowest common denominator or that we insult the intelligence of our viewers.’’ And you don’t, sir?

After such an elaborate preamble, I was prepared for anything. ‘‘Tell me the worst first,’’ I encouraged. Well, said the TV dude with a careless shrug: ‘‘Most of the kids we talked to flunked the first question. But knew the answers to all the others.’’ Was I stunned? Surprised? Shocked out of my skull? Not really.

My music channel friend and I have had several discussions on the subject. I’ve told him how distressing it is to watch the general dumbing down of what are known as youth channels. I’ve asked him the reasons for this trend. How does it work? Does the channel decide to scale back drastically on its intelligence quotient? Or does it snip, cut and re-tailor its shows based on the feedback it receives?

‘‘Believe it or not, we’ve tried hard to raise consciousness levels through some some of our shows.’’ And? ‘‘And our approach has not worked. Does that excuse or exonerate the abominable level of programming? ‘‘No, it doesn’t. But what choice do we have? Kids who watch these shows are not interested in content. The ‘look’ is far more important.’’

I guess he knows his audience. And that’s the scary part.
An audience of young, educated, urban adults. Yes, those who are entitled to vote. Our future. And they don’t know the name of the prime minister of India. Why blame George W. Bush? The channel man was about to weep into his chai. I found myself feeling rather sorry for him. He seemed bright, motivated and clued-in. But, he whispered forlornly, he also seemed old. To the others at the channel. Old? Him? What was he talking about? How old was he anyway? Under 30, he confessed sheepishly. Oh boy. Under 30. And considered over the hill. I could only sympathise.

It’s a tough life running these shows. Make them smart, and you lose your target audience. Dumb them down, and the critics carp. So what is the solution? The man shook his head: ‘‘We don’t know. But we are trying. The profile of our studio guests is changing.’’ Yes, I’ve noticed. A sexologist, one day. And an ad film-maker the next. Will that help get the ratings up? I have my doubts. If he is beaming these shows to a bunch of pretending-to-be literate morons, then why bother with studio guests at all? ‘‘Because we do receive a lot of positive feedback. Our mail tells us these shows are working.’’ Good for you, chaps. Don’t give up. But how about sacking all these imbecile veejays who talk non-stop gibberish? How about replacing them with people whose skulls aren’t completely empty? ‘‘We’ve tried. But audiences want good looks first. And whatever else is left, later.’’

Is it all that tough to get good-looking people who can manage to string at least one coherent sentence together? Apparently, it is. What? At these absurd salaries? Yup. In any case, who’s listening to their babble? If that’s so, why not junk them altogether and just play the season’s hottest tracks non-stop? ‘‘Kids want veejays they can identify with.’’ You mean, of the dumb and dumber variety? The poor man was too embarrassed to reply. What about working on better scripts, I asked brightly. He didn’t say anything. Well? Silence. ‘‘Who writes these senseless scripts anyway?’’ Choke. A tiny voice. ‘‘I do.’’ Oh hell. Maybe he should persuade Atalji to come on the show. Stand up and identify himself. Maybe just maybe, that would help these kids discover who their prime minister is. But don’t bet on it.

M.V.Kamath

Shashi Tharoor

Sucheta Dalal

Amrita Shah

Sucheta Dalal

Nina Pillai

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