Saas-Bahu and other television soap operas have transformed Indian lives in ways you can laugh at—or empathise with
Sixty-year-old Ranjana Namjoshi’s self-confessed transformation process started six years ago, “by accident”. Having cooked a hearty spread at home in Mumbai, she was waiting for the rest of her family to get home for dinner and conversation. But, suburban trains being what they were, her wait seemed endless. Flicking TV channels, Ranjana paused to watch a soap opera her neighbours were forever talking about.
Ranjana’s interest was piqued by what one of the female characters was going through: the familiar angst of reaching home hungry and tired from work, with no one to share the day with. She felt her hand relaxing its grip on the remote. What began as curiosity soon took the shape of a compulsion, and she found herself under the spell of Ekta Kapoor’s Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thhi (‘Because ma-in-law was once a daughter-in-law’).
Today, Ranjana is thankful for that pause. The soap opera has changed her mindset and lifestyle. “Like perhaps a million other women, I became a fan of Kyunki…,” she says, “I was a lousy dresser. At 60, you are not keen on changing out of your housecoat. Every evening, I finished work quickly and waited for the serial to start. In the absence of family, I had found a new companion. Each evening, I saw beautiful women in the serial and felt the urge to dress up.”
A month after she started watching the serial, for the first time in three decades, she changed out of her housecoat in the evening. She dressed up in a printed turquoise chiffon sari, combed and braided her hair (otherwise held in a top bun), and dabbed on some perfume. Her husband of 35 years was struck speechless. “My children too were shocked. They kept asking me if I was alright,” she recalls with delight, “All through the evening, my husband was gaping at me.”
After that, she took to dressing up with such gusto that her husband wondered if she was having an affair! He started coming home early, and would take her out. “My confidence grew,” she says, “and I started taking an avid interest in myself. Believe me, it has changed my life.”
Ranjana’s is not a solo tale. As soap operas suffuse Indian airwaves with a social set-up that women—predominantly—find too alluring to resist, more and more lives undergo their own little transitions. Formal research studies by various agencies confirm as much: these serials are altering the way their viewers look at themselves and the world around them.
Among the popular soaps on television, Balika Vadhu, Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi, Kumkum, Kasauti Zindagi Kay, Kahin To Hoga, Na Aana Is Desh Laado, Baat Hamari Pakki Hai and Kahani Ghar Ghar Kii have had the biggest impact, say researchers. And the influence often extends beyond dress sense, hairstyle and jewellery to such elements as attitudes adopted within relationships. For some, it is empowerment—in terms of how much (or little) deference need be shown to elders, for example, in society today.
Banker Sandhya Deshpande, 49, who relaxes by watching any soap playing on TV, agrees. “I am not really into serials, but I enjoy watching them,” she says, “I believe that these serials have a great impact on women. It has increased their creativity and improved their looks. They are enjoying a blend of the traditional and modern, and these serials have opened a new world for women.”
Many admit that if soap opera queen Ekta Kapoor had not taken over the small screen with her K-series family melodramas, many women would have continued to live drab lives of drudgery and low self-esteem. Instead, homemakers are happily stepping out of the confines of their homes and shopping for the right look. Visits to the local beauty salon are now routine for those who’d have blanched at the thought earlier. And beauticians visiting homes for personalised services are no longer unheard of, even for those who’re not very wealthy.
According to beauticians, it is common for customers to demand the hairstyle of a character on TV. “We too have to watch the serials to offer the kind of look they seek. Presently, everyone is into straight hair. From the time we open shop until closure, we have no time to breathe,” says Suvarna Telekar of Monica Beauty Parlour, a modestly priced salon.
If soap operas have set off a wave of glamour, they have also fostered a return to Hindu traditions. Most prominent is the maang sindoor syndrome, the red vermilion powder worn by married women in their hair-parting as a sign of fidelity. Metropolitan markets are now packed with sindoor sticks that were once associated with small-town shops. Also, the bindi—a shrinking dot not long ago—has been turning into a large blob of red on female foreheads. Sudha Chandran’s huge bindis in her role as Ramola Sikand in the serial Kahin Kissii Roz has played a particularly big role in turning these red dots into a rage.
Fashion trends, though often influenced by Hindi cinema, have also had a soap operatic upheaval of sorts. Chiffon or silk saris with heavy embroidery work are back in wardrobes. Shopkeepers reveal that sales of sequined saris, embroidered salwar kameezs and chunky costume jewellery have shot up. One of the biggest revenue earners today is Swarg, a one-gram costume jewellery store. “There is a crowd at one gram gold jewellery stores. The designing is trendy, and it is not too highly priced (from Rs 250 onwards). Due to the serials, there is a variety of choices now,” observes Sandhya.
Then, there’s the ghagra choli look of Balika Vadhu worn by characters Gehna and Sumitra. The show’s square kadas (bracelets) are also a rage. “Watching these characters, you realise that the traditional look is so beautiful,” says Swati Guha, an avid Balika Vadhu watcher.
How women do themselves up is one thing. How they relate to one another is quite another. But even here, soaps may have had a transformative role. Take the saas-bahu relationship—one that has traditionally been fraught with tension. In many households, there is now a partnership between the two. “We finish off the work well in time and sit together and watch serials. My daughter-in-law and I have also started going out to restaurants together for an afternoon meal when no one’s at home,” says Gayatri Singh, a 73-year-old mother-in-law. She attributes the détente to the K-serials. She needs no further reminder that she too was once a daughter-in-law.
More Columns
India’s Message to Yunus Open
India’s Heartbeat Veejay Sai
The Science of Sleep Dr. Kriti Soni