In early 2000, Kamala Sahani (name changed) was working with a television director in Mumbai on a daily soap. Every Saturday, a well-known columnist from Delhi used to fly down to the city to give his “creative inputs”. He would stay at a posh hotel in south Mumbai, and expect one of the director’s creative assistants to meet him in his room to “discuss the script”. The “discussions” were known to go on till the next day, when he flew back.

When Kamala went for a meeting, he heaped compliments on her — “he began by saying how beautiful I was and how the dress I was wearing was suiting me,” she recalls. Uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going, she walked out. “I went back to the production company’s office located in Worli, and told my director that the next time this guy really wants to give inputs, he would have to meet us in our office and not in his hotel room.” Kamala was alert, and escaped a potentially dangerous situation. But others have not been as lucky.

Ever since the turn of the century, when over a hundred 24x7 entertainment and news channels have mushroomed in India, the television industry has been churning out content on the hour, creating an enormous number of opportunities for producers, directors, writers, actors, anchors, technicians, and so on. And, thanks to the instant fame it offers, the industry has become the preferred destination for scores of young women and men from small towns, who harbour dreams of making it big.

Reputed production houses usually have a clean record — even a remote complaint of harassment is taken seriously and the perpetrator is let go of immediately. However, such companies work largely with established talent. It is the beginners who are vulnerable.

Unfortunately, a majority of youngsters who come from remote corners of the country do not know what to expect, and end up becoming easy targets for devious casting agents, fake producers or ‘start-up’ production houses that could exploit them — sexually and financially — on the pretext of making them stars.

Anamika Yadav, who heads a motion picture production company, Rajkumari Films Combines, has seen many newcomers fall into the trap. “When girls come to Mumbai, they have this notion that in the world of glamour, sexual exploitation is part of life. They befriend an agent or someone from an obscure production house to ‘learn’ how to behave in this new world, which is very different from their small towns. They feel they have to dress differently, learn to eat a variety of cuisines and drink alcohol. Often, these fake agents, who promise them the moon, are the ones who take undue advantage,” she says.

Bhumika Brahmbhatt, who has acted in few reality shows and serials, says it is impossible to avoid agents as introductions to production houses mostly happen through them. “Cons are a huge stumbling block. I have been through a couple of such encounters but was wise enough to sense the danger in time. Beginning with an offer of a coffee at a well-known coffee shop, it would go further. After a couple of false starts a girl knows who is genuine. Once you realise you are being taken for a ride, you have to put your foot down.”

Besides the danger of sexual exploitation, agents also lure aspiring youngsters into financial traps. Though it is common for agents to get a commission for helping an artiste land a role in a daily soap, there have been instances where newcomers have been cheated of lakhs of rupees to get a ‘high profile’ assignment.

Industry veterans claim that many newbies set themselves up for a bad fall. Garima Sharma, who used to work with Star TV, recalls the time when she and four of her colleagues were auditioning starlets for a new programme. “One girl, who now is a big name on TV, said: ‘I am willing to do anything to get this role’. Instead of us women if there had been five men on the panel, they could have easily taken advantage of such a blatant offer.”

Kamala has also had similar experiences. “Many a time when these young girls aged 16-17 years would come to our production house to audition we would feel like loaning them our own T-shirts or dupattas . They have this notion that wearing a minuscule dress or behaving in a suggestive way may land them work,” she adds.

Anamika feels it is the fear of being left behind that sometimes forces women to go down this road. The industry is flooded with young talent every year — and competition is tough. “If one is talented, the work gets noticed and offers of better roles will definitely come in. Fast bucks and the desire to make it to the top quickly is a definite way of getting hoodwinked. If things don’t work out, go back home and wait for good opportunities,” she advises.

To tackle genuine complaints, there are redress groups such as the Cine & TV Artists Association (CINTAA), and the Network of Women in Media, India (NWMI). For instance, in March this year, when Chennai-based SUN TV news anchor S. Akila was suspended after she complained of sexual harassment by her superiors, the NWMI called for Akila’s immediate reinstatement. An inquiry into the case has also been initiated.

Though harassment, sexual or financial, is endemic to glamour-driven professions, industry veterans believe that while “exploiters exist in all industries, in TV it is not so bad. No girl can be forced into doing anything she doesn’t want to”.

© Women's Feature Service

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