In a move that would have made the late, great Roman Emperor Diocletian nod in grim approval, the Indian film union has abruptly dropped its boycott of Bollywood star Ranveer Singh. Trade tensions, it seems, have eased. But let us not mistake this for a moment of enlightenment. This is the same industry that routinely confuses celebrity with statesmanship and box office receipts with moral authority.
One must wonder: what was the boycott about in the first place? The details are as murky as the Ganges at dawn. A dispute over wages, perhaps? A clash of egos between Singh and some minor union functionary? Or was it, as is so often the case in this hyper-dramatic subculture, a manufactured controversy designed to remind the plebs that their cinematic gods are, in fact, subject to the whims of a few self-important gatekeepers?
Consider the historical parallels. The late Roman Empire saw a similar phenomenon: the rise of celebrity cults that distracted the populace from the crumbling infrastructure and barbarian invasions. Today, our celebrities are our gladiators, and the unions are the provincial governors who try to control them. The difference is that Roman gladiators at least had the decency to die in the arena. Our modern heroes merely post Instagram stories about their 'struggles.'
What is truly galling is the breathless media coverage of such trivialities. News outlets, desperate for clicks, treat this as a matter of national importance. 'Trade tensions ease,' they announce, as if Singh's career were a critical supply chain for the Republic. Meanwhile, real crises—economic stagnation, educational decay, geopolitical follies—languish in the shadows.
And let us not forget the sheer intellectual decadence at play. A boycott, in a sane world, would be a weapon of last resort, a tool of collective bargaining or political protest. Here, it is a mere bargaining chip in the endless theatre of Bollywood politics. The union drops its boycott, and we are meant to applaud their magnanimity. We should instead mourn the time and energy wasted on such trivialities.
Imagine, if you will, the same energy directed at real problems. A union that boycotts a film set over safety violations? That would be commendable. But no, they pick a fight with a star who probably has more money than their entire organisation. It is a parody of class struggle, a pantomime of power.
In the end, the only winners are the celebrities themselves. Ranveer Singh, no doubt, will emerge from this with his brand intact, perhaps even strengthened. He will continue to prance about in his colourful outfits, delivering inane dialogue to adoring crowds. The union will pat itself on the back for a job well done. And the rest of us are left to wonder: is this the best we can do? Are we so starved for meaning that we must manufacture drama from the lives of the rich and famous?
The answer, regrettably, is yes. We are a civilisation in decline, more obsessed with the antics of entertainers than with the substance of our own existence. The Roman Empire fell for many reasons. Ours will fall because we care more about Ranveer Singh's next film than about the state of our nation. And we will deserve it.
