One evening at your Youth Club you take part in an informal discussion, the subject being, “Is it right that a film actor should earn more than the Prime Minister?” After the discussion, the Youth Club leader gives you the following notes he has made:- Lively discussion. Some noisy interruptions — Main points in favour of film actor’s high earnings: Entertainment value — exhausting work — short career — great competition — expenses. Main points in favour of the Prime Minister’s earnings: Hard work — position insecure — heavy responsibilities at home and abroad — foreign officials — keeping up appearances. The discussion lasted 50 minutes — ended in some disorder — General conclusion: Prime Minister should earn more. Expand these notes into a fuller and more interesting account of the discussion, suitable for your club magazine.
It was an informal discussion organisation in a loose sally of ideas. The club was nearly in full strength. The “Star News” flashed the sensational event of stray explosions inside the Red Fort on the eve of the Independence Day Celebrations. The gravity of the matter spawned some impromptu (= on the sudden) talks about the risks of the Prime Minister’s job, and his pay that is not commensurate with it. A film actor, in contrast, earns bags of money with much less labour and risk. The contention was firmly opposed by another section that held the banner for the latter. The talks, the repartees (= prompt replies) were, initially, light-mood and chatty. But gradually it thickened and became tense. To ease the situation, the Club’s President proposed that the rival camps better form two ranks and thrash out the matter as in a symposium. He fixed the poser: “Is it right that a film actor should earn more than the Prime Minister?” This put a quietus (= ended) the noise and hubbub.
The duration of 50 minutes for both teams allowed only five speakers and 5 minutes per speaker.
The film actor vis-a-vis the Prime Minister. Each side cried out his candidate as the fittest to own the crown, the ‘crown’ being ‘the higher earning’. Both trumpeted the risks of their candidates. The Prime Minister’s post perfectly bears out the import of the proverb, ‘Unwary lies the head that wears a crown’. Mrs Gandhi was murdered by her own bodyguards; Rajib was blown out for slighting security measures. The other side cited the instance of Gulshan Kumar who was shot while going to the temple, and of film actors on the ‘hit list’ of extremists. The P.M. moves under ‘Z’ guard protection and works under the shield of his elaborate bureaucratic network; his policies – although of crucial significance – are prefaced by a long-drawn analysis and scrutiny by experts; his hard work is alternated by periods of repose arranged in the best style. The P.M., as the kingpin of the whole system, makes or mars if he disturbs the balance or equilibrium by some personal quirk or strange act like the Emergency. The film actor, the other side contended, struggles from the scratch. To rise to the top he has to apprehend (= know in advance) his own qualities, polish; develop his personality. Their chief capital is aesthetic and public applause, and have to carve their career through odds. A speaker for the P.M.’s camp made light of the film actor’s struggle by citing examples showing through what hurdles a politician rises to become a Prime Minister. In comparison, a film actor sometimes shoots into fame by mastering some antics that appeal to the public taste. Such gimmicks (= tricks) of style have brought down human taste, the side claimed. The opposite camp, however, was not lacking. They cited scores of instances, showing how elections have flouted democratic norms; of booth capturing, elimination, mayhem and murder. In contrast to film, actors entertain. If there is a decline in taste, it is so in every sphere. If Bollywood is a corruptor of taste, politics, today, is a corruptor of the nation’s body-politic (= the political climate). The film actor, in general, has a short run. He knows that with age he shall lose his prime values like, his voice, features, agility all these being personal attributes. He is, thus, a slave of time. But the P.M. has no retirement, no ageing factor guiding his career. Even an old, decrepit person can remain a President or a P.M.
One speaker struck this writer as the most original. His speech was delightfully dotted with wit. He concluded on an ambivalent (= double-value) note: the subject was most inapt, he suggested. The two camps, today, are no longer separate streams. They merge. An Amitabh Bachhan, a Shatrughan Sinha or a M.G. Ramchandran are, today, M.P.s who steer the nation to glory with their prized votes in the Parliament. Politics, today, is the ultima Thule (= furthest limit), nay, the basin where all waters of the nation flow …
The President conducted the show capably, giving his rulings at critical moments. The topic was put to vote in the house and the tally was half-half. At last, the casting vote of the President held that the P.M. should have higher earnings.
The topic is unconventional and a bit far-fetched, I presume. The P.M.’s job is a dedicated one and he, being an all-found of the state, his ‘personal earnings’ seems a bit at odds with ethical considerations. But a film artist, like other autonomous artists, embarks on (= dares) an unknown venture where merit or ability pays. His talent is a quid pro que (= a Latin expression which means: something given or taken as the equivalent of something) for his earnings and profit.
The topic, interestingly, was not premeditated, but a sudden one. That way the evening was really stimulating.
