Deconstructing the Phenomena of the famous Leslie of Odisha

Deconstructing the Phenomena of Leslie of Odisha

The first question that has been haunting me all this while with the 'Phenomenal Leslie of Odisha or is it Orissa episode' is this: Why on earth would anyone want to be famous, especially now? (What a nightmare! What a disaster!)
And the second question (the obverse of the first): Why do masses of men and women feel such intense emotion about the life and death ,happiness,sufering,misery of people who are strangers to them--strangers, that is, except to the extent that masses of people have been deceived by the tabloids into an illusion of intimacy with the famous?
If the intimacy was an illusion, is the interest and concern an illusion as well? Or how exactly do we assess the emotional truth of these outpourings? A moment of poignant communion in the Family of Man? A cheap exploitation of sympathies one centimeter deep? Or is there a third possibility? Something to do with mortals and gods and goddesses?
To be famous is among the basic human ambitions, of course, an all but universal fantasy. Who--except for nuns and monks, say, who are content with God's radiant attention--sets out in life to remain obscure? Fame is fun--and vindication. One need never be lonely, anywhere, ever. Fame has style, glamour, money, attention; ignites the sudden light of recognition in strangers' eyes, commands the comic deference of headwaiters as they sweep you past the serfs and hoi polloi to the best table.
Some who have come to be famous see in retrospect that the daydream may have been touchingly adolescent, self-inflating in the style of Mr. Toad. In some personalities, the need for attention is darker and more retrograde: neurotic, infantile, a sort of baby's unappeasable love craving, a raw, screaming hunger.
In any case, one should beware of answered prayers. Those with hard experience at being famous know that while celebrity can occasionally be delightful, it may become a burden, an arduous and menacing bore. Just how menacing it can be we saw on the evening of April-13th-2008 when it was flashed all across the world that The psycho stalker against whom Leslie of Orissa had lodged an F.I.R had killed Biranchi Das the famous judo coach of Limca Record Maker little wonder Boy Buddhia Singh because he had taken it upon himself to protect his favorite actress,activist the effervescent,charming heart-throb of Orissa-Leslie Love Tripathy from her dangerous stalker and crazy fan,who wouldnt take a no for an answer.So he decided to eliminate Coach Das who was posing an obstacle for the Devil who is a living version of Dr.Jekyl and Mr.Hyde,only hewasnt adoctor nor had any contributions in saving anybody nor welfare ofsociety,but wasrather is an extortionist with 40 cases lodged against him,of which 5 are for murder.So its unfortunate that Leslie became a victim of her adventurous spirit and good nature.She went to a Prisoners Reform Programme on December-17-2005,she preached her message to the prisoners all of whom were her fans,the 16 year old had a reputation for being a outstanding spokesperson so inspired by her favorite Mother Teresa,Florence Nightingale,Eleanor Roosevelt and Diana,she hadagreed to help people make their lives worth living and always help the suffering at a very young age.Little did this flamboyant British bred Princess realise that she would become a Social Victim from a Social Reformer.As it happened a prisoner living inside the premises of the prison was madly in love with his favorite actress and only sensational face seen in Orissa,which way different from other oriya girls or so to say indian beauties as well.That convict living in that prison had given all hopes on life after he was convicted 4 years of imprisonment,little did he expect his life would change after he laid eyes on his favorite Pin-Up Princess.There were other actresses too but not stood out in beauty,manners,charm as Leslie did,everybody was smitten by her angelic aura.On top of it she was polite and kind to all prisoners,she signed autographs,shook hands,posed for photographs,smiled,spoke politely with everybody without any discriminations.Leslie's goodness had enchanted all but most enchanted was the stalker Raja Acharya who was a drug addict its imaginable he never thought rationally and lived life on his whims and caprices,who had made up his mind he would somehow win the affections of this lovely fairy angel somehow who co-incidentally happened to be a brahmin girl,a gold medallist,she seemed out of this world.The icing on the cake was tabloids had flashed the news that Leslie was single,never had a boyfriend and her friends had leaked it out that Leslie had vowed never to indulge with any boy before marriage abd had also vowed never to have sex before marriage.Well every bad boy always wishes to settle down with a good girl,which sure a rare species,but when this bad boy met his Angel Queen in flesh and blood he decided to pursue her deeply,crazily and madly.
The famed one is paradoxically as naked as an exile dispossessed. The celebrity enters into a powerful and potentially dangerous force field, a relationship with masses of people gone slightly insane; sometimes he encounters that side of human nature that forms lynch mobs: the beast. A surreal dynamic goes to work. The famous may find their fortunes held hostage by the moods and attention spans of people they do not know. The unstable affections of fandom have a life of their own and acquire an unpredictable but nearly absolute power over one's personal and professional fate. Fame becomes a form of primitive, dangerous religion, like snake handling.
It was always a primitive terror to be cast out of the tribe and made to wander as a stranger. Today a famous person--Arnold Schwarzenegger, say, or Sylvester Stallone, those universal action figures whose films require the fewest subtitles and therefore address masses most eloquently in remote cultures--might go anywhere on earth and never be a stranger. Is that desirable? Or a horror? Such planetary recognition may be as dangerous, in a different way, as being an unknown alien once was.
The most extreme danger comes in the form of the sort of lethal nonentity who gunned down John Lennon. Other stalkers are less murderous but more numerous. In fandom, boundaries of individuality break down and enthusiasts come to think they own the celebrity in some way. They behave with a bizarre, intrusive, proprietary aggression, as if the icon had entered their own head (as indeed the icon has) and thereby relinquished all rights of privacy and courtesy and become a plaything of fans' fantasy. Madonna has said that one of the worst things about being famous is that you cannot put your trash out on the sidewalk in front of your house: someone will plunder it. Autograph hunters are the most benign of stalkers. The press, to a divorced princess, an actress or the U.S. President, represents a complex evil and professional necessity. The predations celebrities fear most from the press, especially photographers, are intrusions into the lives of their children.