With three kids, wife and mother in the family, Basant’s house pulsated with life round-the-year. His playful, hyperactive sons and a daughter kept running up and down their two-storey house in antics that frequently got them chided.

Nevertheless, their grandma and mother enjoyed the giggles and cries that kept their little world alive and happy. “I don’t like dull and dreary atmosphere,” said Basant. His mother shared his sentiment.

That is why, he, who belonged to a lower middle class and worked as an assistant in a government office, was shell-shocked when he returned home after a day’s hard work one late evening. Normally, Basant’s arrival was invariably greeted by the kids with joyous shouts of “Papa aa gaye” (Daddy is home). But that evening, there was no such chorus.

Stepping into his house, Basant sensed something was amiss. There was no cordiality. Everybody wore a cold look. In a bid to diffuse the tension, he recalled a famous quote from the Hindi blockbuster Sholay: “Itna sannata kyon hai bhai?” (Why this deadly silence?) An impatient Basant finally asked but nobody responded. They merely exchanged a glance.

Basant gave his mother and wife another inquisitive look. Still, there was no reply. It was too much for him. He lost his cool and seething with anger, burst out at his wife. The answer, however, came from one of his scared kids.

“Sukesh (name changed) has died,” he said in a sad tone.

“Who is Sukesh?”

“He was the main character in the TV serial XYZ.”

“Oh my God,” Basant exclaimed, in disgust. He was hurt mainly over his family members recreating the TV soap’s gloomy scene in his house, which he considered a bad omen.

He was further incensed on discovering that nobody had eaten a morsel due to the “death” of their screen hero. That was enough to provoke Basant to indulge in some severe tongue lashing at high decibels. He was angry over some imaginary TV figure’s fake demise causing a realistic, gloomy atmosphere in his house. Coming home after a long day, he had expected to get the usual cup of tea followed by dinner, but the family members were themselves in mourning and on empty stomachs, triggered by this fictitious character’s fake death.

In a fit of rage, he thundered: “No TV, no serials.” The stunned family members stayed mum.

The story was narrated to me by Basant himself during an informal chat over the ill-effects of obsession with TV serials in modern times.

This madness is a nationwide phenomenon in India and not confined to any particular region or community.

Viewers are generally divided among soaps, Bollywood-based programmes, news channels and the like.

In the case of some TV serials, some viewers identify themselves so closely with certain characters that they virtually become a part and parcel of their life — as was the case with Basant’s family. The ups and downs of the characters’ lives, as also their sorrows and happy moments, were all ‘felt’ by them.

The viewers are often unable to distinguish between the real and unreal. Unwittingly, they create complications in their family lives. Fortunately, such people are in a microscopic minority.

However, wherever they do exist, they are a source of fun and entertainment to others. Unlike TV serials made in India in the 1990s, I have observed, that the present-day soaps have deteriorated in terms of quality and content. There are no real good stories. The same plots are repeated shamelessly across channels. Children who watch these shows as a possible reflection of life in India are bound to be deeply disappointed.

Initially, they were all entertaining, but the constant “repetition” of stories has killed the joy of watching a drama unfold. But then, so is the case with the plethora of song-and-dance shows. Same show, different name.

I really wonder how people tolerate such mediocrity.

Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.