But in the next millenium, they'll be changing it. You know television and computer will become one -- even death cannot them part. So the next century of television viewing will not be passive but active. We're going to be asked to participate (what cheek!). We're going to be burdened with having to make choices. For example, we'll have to decide which film we want to watch from an entire library; read reviews, select one, then determine when to watch; alternatively, the same film will begin every fifteen minutes on different channels (they'll be so many), so that you can watch the same scene as many times as you want to, or you can't miss a sceneeven if you want to. Decisions, decisions.

Next, we have to choose the camera angle; so if you are watching the World Cup, you must decide whether you want to watch it from square leg, behind the stumps or from an aerial position. We will have the choice of splitting the screen into four, eight different screens and watching a different game on each one. We will be able to choose the commentary team of our preference from an array of options; we will have the option of discussing the game with them or someone else. Gosh! Decisions, decisions. And so much to do. We'll have to invent a new name for the box, because this certainly isn't cricket, sorry television. Last week was confusing. Images flit by your eyes fleetingly, sometimes, stopping to stay: Sonia Gandhi outside Rashtrapati Bhavan lecturing (or was it hectoring?) the media on the perfidious BJP. Delicately, wipes the sweat dribbling on her nose like Roberto Baggio (famous Italian soccer player), rolls her tongue around `Mulayam Singh Yadav' likea betel leaf about a supari. Mulayam Singh Yadav hectoring the media (or was it lecturing?) on Congress arrogance. One oily, unruly lock separates from the rest of his hair in an assertion of rebellion as he spits out Sonia Gandhi like the chewed up remnants of the aforementioned paan. Harkishen Singh Surjeet, lecturing (or is it hectoring?) Mulayam Singh Yadav on betrayal. His mouth widens in disappointment and into the 9-10 television mikes attacking his throat. He can't do much more with it (his mouth) because his beard gets in the way. Venkaiah Naidu hectoring all and sundry in that special way he has of conserving energy by employing only one side of his mouth for speech.

Chandra Shekhar flaring nostrils, lecturing the country and any channel which would cover him, on anything he had left unsaid on the state of the nation during his speech in Parliament. And of course Jayalalitha; sweet talkin' JJ. She glides in and out of view like a Republic Day float. In her printed sarees; repeatedly reassuring(herself?) that there will be a government. Repeating is believing?

Meanwhile in USA, there's a school shoot out. You see survivors scuttling out of the building, hugging, crying on each others shoulders; you listen to the local Sheriff throw light upon on freshly fallen snow, illumining nothing. President Clinton discusses the matter with Washington schoolchildren and asks them to consider the correlation between television violence and the killings... Nobody knows a thing, nobody can begin to explain why school kids in small time America are in love with death and call it sweet names in strange rhymes before they pull the trigger.Television. Video games. Easy targets. Made easier by the likes of Aashirward (Zee). Last week, the daughter who eloped, returns without getting married. She meets her father, begs his forgiveness. Music softens, his face softens; he stretches his left arm back as far as it can go, and slaps her so hard across the face, it must have been impaled. Crude, horrible, unwarrantedviolence. Think of the children, watching. Contrast with Chhoti Si Aasha (Sony). The father steps off a rooftop ledge, falls to his death. His body sails down, crashlands, the head splits...but they don't show any of it. Instead, the umbrella he was carrying gently tumbles down.