Analyzing adoration..

I remember vividly the images that flooded the television on the day the judgement acquitting the AIADMK chief was issued. The celebration witnessed that day among the chief minister’s followers/worshipers was not of a normal kind. It was not just an expression of uncontrollable happiness. It looked more of a letting out of agony and pain. Agony and pain the worshipers had endured since their hero/idol/god had been accused of a crime.

Their joy did not just seem like the joy a shopkeeper experiences on learning that the area where his shop had been located had survived an earthquake. It was more of a joy that a shopkeeper experiences on learning that his shop had been the only building in its area that had survived an earthquake. 

And I was faced with only one question – Why - which then led to a series of sub questions.

Why should a person consider another person’s victory as his/her own and another person’s failure as his/her own when there is no relationship existing between them except for the admiration of the former for the latter?

Why is this admiration so powerful that it makes a person treat his/her hero important than self?

Why is this prevalent in this country in only the three fields that most people remember when asked to list their 10 favorite Indian personalities – politics, cinema and cricket – and not visible in any other field such as literature or business or even other sports?

I decided to deal with the last issue first since I felt that it would answer the other two questions also.

Politics, cinema and cricket do not require the level of understanding that literature or classical dance or tennis does (This is with regard to the average knowledge required in the fields of politics, cinema and cricket by an average person. Understanding the intricate mechanisms of any of these three fields is a totally different issue). Hence identifying with the heroes of these three fields becomes very easy for most of this country’s population, the identification and idolization becoming aggressive with the less educated and exposed classes.

To dwell deeper into the issue to identify the reasons for the worship, I believe that the description of the two following events is necessary.

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Event 1:

A day had passed after the release of the film Billa 2. I had had very little interest in visiting the theater to watch the film but a few of my friends – hardcore Ajith fans – had dragged me along forcefully to the theatre. 30 minutes had passed since the film had begun and I had not heard most of the lines uttered by Ajith in the film, thanks to the continuous cheers of the fans every time Ajith’s face was shown. But I had predicted earlier that the dialogues would not be heard properly and had readied myself. The only thing that kept me interested in the film was that it was very evident that the film was loosely inspired from Al Pacino’s Scarface and I let my mind happily compare the happenings of Billa 2 with the incidents from Scarface which made me laugh at most of the serious scenes to the anger of my friends. But as the film neared its end, something happened that left most of the audience scared. A member of the audience had stood up over his seat and had started screaming curse words towards the theater screen. The reason for his anger was a simple one – Ajith was being beaten bare-handed by the antagonist of the film. The people around the guy asked him to cool down and requested him to get down but he wouldn’t listen. He continued abusing the antagonist with curse words (compounded curse words actually) and by then in the film, Ajith had been left to dangle from a helicopter holding on to his life which only made things worse. About 5 minutes later as the guy was literally forced outside the theater, the end credits of the film started rolling, to my relief. I honestly do not remember most of the scenes of Billa 2 – in fact, none of the scenes – but the guy who stood up over his seat, filled with immeasurable anger at seeing his hero being beaten in the film, will always remain in my memory.

Event 2:

It was the day of the second semi-final match of ICC Cricket World Cup 2015. India was taking on Australia. Australia had won the toss and had decided to bat and had posted a score of 328 runs in 50 overs. It was India’s turn to bat and three of my friends dragged me along forcefully (Yes! You guessed it right! I am a guy who gets dragged along a lot!) to our college canteen where new LED television sets had been put up. By the time we reached the canteen, about 150 people had already seated themselves on the ground of our canteen before the television sets having pushed aside the canteen-tables. As I looked at the crowd, my eyes widened with shock and fear in complete contrast to the eyes of my friends that lightened up with excitement. I pleaded to be let go but no one seemed to pay heed and by the 10^th over of the second innings, I was seated surrounded by a sea of people who cheered and celebrated every boundary that Shikhar Dhawan scored as if every boundary of his would guarantee a free samosa at the canteen. But as the overs continued, the Indian batsmen began playing gully cricket and the wickets tumbled. By the time the 4^th wicket had fallen, the entire crowd at our canteen had gone very silent but it lasted less than a minute as a huge roar – a literal roar – erupted from the gathering as M.S. Dhoni walked in. The shout left me with goosebumps since it was the first time I was witnessing such an expression of admiration from a crowd personally connected to me. I watched the rest of the match with the crowd’s roar repeating in loops inside my head before two consecutive sixes that Dhoni scored in the 42^nd over stopped the loop in my head. The loop had stopped because a louder roar had erupted. 

A roar of ecstasy though everyone knew that there was no logical chance that India could win the match. A roar that had resulted as an expression of love for a man no one in the crowd had any familial connections with. A roar of unadulterated adoration. A roar that would pop up first in my head henceforth every time I hear the word ‘roar’ shadowing the so-long occurring image of a lion’s shout.

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These two events showed me the extent to which a hero could be idolized. But the reasons for this admiration, I believe, would be more interesting to learn.

One simple answer for such an expression of love could be wish fulfillment.

A person loves his/her hero for the reason that the hero does things which the person is incapable of doing in real life.

Mainstream Tamil cinema (or perhaps even mainstream Indian cinema) owes its success to this wish fulfillment theory. An actor’s fan gets excited when he sees his hero thrashing the society’s criminal elements – something the fan cannot do in reality. An actor’s fan gets excited when he sees his hero making a really beautiful girl pursue him, pleading, to accept her love – something the fan cannot do in reality. But how would this wish fulfilment hold true in politics and cricket?

Most of the worshipers of Amma who celebrated her acquittal so wildly would not have carried the notions of becoming a chief minister and governing the state. Most of the members of our college canteen crowd that roared for Dhoni would not have carried the notions of representing the Indian cricket team or becoming its skipper. What then prompted such unbridled demonstrations of affection?

Welfare schemes, good governance, MGR’s legacy and the love over AIADMK party for Amma, patriotism, love of the game, his temperament and earlier achievements for Dhoni might be viable reasons to look into but they look lame. 

All these factors would demand respect but would they bring out such adoration?

It was at such a point in my thought process that my mind went berserk and screamed at me, “Why don’t you look inside before examining the outer world?” which though made no sense initially, slowly dawned upon me.

In the process of trying to find the reasons for the admiration of others for their heroes, I had failed to analyse my own hero-worship. 

I had been a person who had, on more than most occasions, grabbed the shirt-collars of my schoolmates for negative comments on Sachin Tendulkar. I had been a person who had worried very badly and skipped a lunch at school when a schoolmate had commented that Harris Jayaraj would overshadow A.R. Rahman in a very short span of time (I would make mincemeat of that schoolmate if I meet him now!). 

Though the increase in age and maturity level has helped to accept Sachin and Rahman as human beings with complete appreciation of their efforts, achievements and shortcomings, there is still a part of me - the adorer, who fumes and goes crazy when I see Virat Kohli being hailed as the next Sachin or when I notice an album composed by Rahman not getting its deserved recognition. 

And it is this adorer, I believe, who makes people roar and curse and celebrate.

The adorer seems to be a guy not defined by logic. His affection and admiration do not seem controlled by concerns of being judged. His likings do not seem to be based upon statistics or achievements though the favorable ones make him wildly happy. 

His fondness seems to make him more defensive and protective. His love seems to have its roots spread widely in the heart, imposing a ban on the brain. 

These qualities of the adorer, when looked at from a distance, present a more surprising finding.

The adorer, with his qualities, seems to be remarkably similar to a mother. 

Or perhaps even the other way around could be possible. 

Which would then point to only one conclusion.

Every single one of us is a hero.