Oh Brother!

After that wacko reality show, Big Brother, ended, the theatre of the absurd really began.   A Goody became a baddy and an Item Girl was elevated to the status of Icon Girl. Agents in the UK were pounding at her door with such over-the-top offers that one would think she’d just won the Nobel Peace Prize. Admittedly, I was guilty of muttering, ‘The British are bonkers’, but that’s about as far as my feelings on the subject went.   However, when Shilpa Shetty (formerly known in the UK as Shilpa Who?) earnestly stated that she was representing India (which includes me), I began to feel a little ill. No offence to Shilpa, she comes across as decent, reasonably intelligent and all that, but I cannot stomach the idea of a reality show contestant being the face of the nation.

Cheeks burning with embarrassment, I started writing a book called Cringe, the Beloved Country, hoping for cathartic relief. I’m now strong enough to take anything on. In fact, I have some suggestions for the Shilpa-crazy Brits (My God, they really love her!). Despite her fiasco with the undercooked chicken on Big Brother, they’ve still offered her the opportunity to write a recipe book (recommended titles: Curry in a Hurry and Raw Talent). I do hope it comes with a warning on the cover: Cook longer than instructed if you hear anguished clucks.

So here are the suggestions: Tea with Tony Blair and the Queen is all very well, but give her something special to remember the occasion by. Sure, she could stealthily slip a muffin into her pocket as a memento but that has a limited shelf life and is dreadfully messy besides. How about the Order of the British Empire, or even better, the Victoria Cross? After all, it’s the highest recognition for valour in the face of the enemy, innit? Remember, Shilpa bore racist digs with dignified tolerance. Get real, how many of us can do it?

It goes without saying that there must be a wax figure of Shilpa at Madame Tussauds, meaningfully positioned close to Mahatma Gandhi, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Nelson Mandela. That’s bound to give her a nice edge over her super-starry, supercilious Bollywood counterparts.

Why stop at offering her a movie with Hugh Grant? Why not cast her as Juliet in a Royal Shakespeare Company production? She’s mentioned that she’s waiting for Mr. Right so there’s a very good chance that her rendition of, ‘Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?’ will ring true. Also, it will help her Bollywood critics discover if she can really act. She’s never had much of an opportunity to showcase her talents before.

But wouldn’t it be fun if British Asians who side with Jaz Barton, the agent Shilpa’s mother peremptorily dumped, create a remix of Boney M’s Ma Baker called Ma Shetty? It would be a perfect fit because they’re both battleaxes. I’d love to do it myself, but I daren’t. I’m that scared of Shilpa’s formidable mum, I am.

Ooh, this is thrilling!  I wouldn’t mind Rakhee Sawant on Big Brother next year, as long as she promises not to say that she’s representing India. The good thing is she knows the ropes; she’s done a great job of following in Shilpa’s dance steps and has also done a stint with Big Brother’s version in India, Little Brother, or whatever it’s called. Chances are, she may acquire the biggest prize of them all: a Big Husband.  I’m thinking Prince William. Don’t knock it. After all, it’s already been established that the Brits are stark raving crackers.