What Bollywood Teaches Your Child About Consent

6 hours ago

4 min read

My NoS-X Encounter with Anju Kish by Albert Schiller

The Silent Educator

Anju Kish identifies a silent educator who lives in every Indian home. It is not the teacher at school or the parent at the dinner table. What influences our children daily is the media that flows constantly through our televisions and smartphones. Anju argues that while parents are terrified of having "the talk" about sex, they often ignore the conversation that is already happening. This conversation occurs through the songs we dance to and the shows we binge-watch. We worry about preserving our children's innocence while simultaneously exposing them to content that shapes their understanding of gender and power dynamics.

Parents often focus on the explicit content. They seek nudity or profanity. Anju suggests that the real danger often lies in the subtle messaging of popular culture. It lies in the lyrics of a hit song or the plotline of a popular series. These messages are dangerous because they are catchy. We hum them. We dance to them at weddings. We normalize them. Anju notes that exposure is what a child sees and internalizes as normal behavior. If we do not decode these messages, we allow pop culture to become the primary sex educator for our children while we pride ourselves on restricting their access to pornography.

"Exposure they may not even realize could be an exposure... It could be a song that they are singing."

The Buffet Effect

Anju highlights a specific example from Bollywood to illustrate this point. She references a popular Hindi song with the lyrics "Kudiyon ka buffet laga hai, choose karle". Translated, this means there is a buffet of girls laid out, so take your pick. To the average listener, this is just a peppy dance number. It is performed at weddings and parties, where families dance with their children. Everyone enjoys the beat without pausing to process the meaning of the words.

However, Anju analyzes this from a child's perspective. When a child hears these lyrics repeated, they absorb a specific worldview. The metaphor of a "buffet" is dehumanizing. It reduces women to consumable items. It suggests that women are objects displayed for the pleasure and selection of men. It implies that men are the consumers and women are the goods. Songs with such lines teach a lesson in objectification.

When parents dance to this song without comment, they silently endorse the message. They tell their sons that picking a woman is like picking a dish. They say to their daughters that being chosen is their primary function. This unconscious consumption creates a foundation for toxic masculinity and gender inequality. It happens without a single explicit conversation about sex. The damage is done on the joyful dance floor. Anju urges parents to pause and listen. We must hear the words we are singing. We must recognize that a catchy tune can carry a toxic payload.

Portrait of a smiling person on a purple background with a quote in yellow: "You should see the fireworks... The parents are just staring in awe at the children."

The OTT Reality Gap

The challenge has surpassed music. Anju points to the rise of Over-The-Top (OTT) streaming platforms as a significant game-changer. Unlike traditional cinema, these platforms are not subject to censorship. Content that was once restricted to adult theaters is now available on the family iPad. Children today are digital natives. They can navigate these platforms better than their parents.

Anju recounts a disturbing anecdote about the television series Game of Thrones. The show features complex adult themes, including incest. She notes that children as young as nine or ten have watched episodes where a brother and sister have intercourse. The problem is not reduced to nudity. The problem is the lack of context. A ten-year-old lacks the cognitive maturity to distinguish between a gritty fantasy drama and reality.

They see a brother and sister reproduce. They begin to believe this is a possible reality. They lack the social and biological framework to process what they are seeing. When parents do not intervene or explain, the child is left to build their own logic. They accept it because they saw it on a screen. Anju warns that we cannot rely on the state or the platform to filter this for us. The censorship board does not exist in the living room. The parent must become the filter.

Active Viewing

The solution Anju proposes is not necessarily censorship. Banning phones or locking televisions is often impossible and also inefficient in the modern world. It can make the forbidden fruit more attractive. Instead, Anju advocates for "active viewing". This means consuming media with your eyes open and your brain engaged. It means turning the consumption of entertainment into a teachable moment.

When a song like the "buffet" track comes on, a parent should not just turn it off. They should ask their child what they think the lyrics mean. They should ask if comparing a woman to food feels respectful. They should ask how they would feel if someone spoke about them that way. This invites the child to think critically. It breaks the spell of the rhythm.

The goal is to equip the child with a critical filter. We want them to be able to hear a song and recognize the sexism within it. We want them to watch a show and understand the difference between entertainment and reality. This moves the conversation beyond the home and into the broader culture. It transforms the parent from a policeman into a guide. We cannot stop the noise of pop culture, but we can teach our children to tune it out or decode it. We can ensure that they dance to the beat but not to the values.

"You have not only given your child an answer, but you have also become the askable parent."