Today, anyone can be famous. But does anyone still deserve to be?
There was a time when being a celebrity meant you had accomplished something noteworthy. You changed the world, changed culture, made history. Shakespeare didn’t tweet. Gandhi didn’t trend. Maradona never had to rely on an algorithm. They just lived their lives so much and so free that the world had to take notice.
Now, it takes a bikini pic, a trending shimmy or the right influencer to climb into the hall of the followed. Viral is the new virtuous. It is a television and social media culture where fame is what you run toward first and rationalize later.
But here’s what we all overlook:
Do today’s celebrities even deserve to be feted?
Or better still:
Why do we, the average spectators, even have need of them?
In our boredom, in our quiet yearning, while scrolling through the screens — we start to live through them. A college student in a small town isn’t just radicalizing that influencer on Instagram — she’s borrowing their life for one hot second. “Perhaps that could be me,” she thinks. And suddenly admiration is a sort of dissatisfaction in disguise.
In the old world, work brought exposure. You made something beautiful or brave or important — and if the world paid attention, then that was gravy. Today, it’s reversed. Get famous first. We’ll add the story later. Talent? Optional. Integrity? Variable. Substance? Rare.
Consider Dolly Chaiwala, a tea vendor in Nagpur who serves chai with a flourish that went viral. Beautiful moment. Then Bill Gates arrives, sipping Dolly’s tea as though he’s encountered the Dalai Lama. And just like that, it’s international news. Not because of the tea. But ordinary went algorithmic. Authenticity, apparently, must now be acted out to be accepted.
And then there is Ranveer Allahbadia — the previous poster child of hustle, real talk and digital ambition. Now enshrined in the cyclone of influencer politics and faux-spiritual sales. He is being slowly dismantled by the same machine that made him. Because when your face is your brand, even your silence is calculated.
So let’s pose an uncomfortable question:
What does it feel like to be a celebrity now?
Imagine having to wake up every day in front of a camera that never shuts off. Everything you say is called content. Every thought is one to be curated. Every image and every thought has to pass through a filter — and not the kind of filter that makes things prettier, but the kind that makes things palatable to the public. “Is that living, or is it a lifelong job interview?
Yes, there’s access. Yes, there’s money. But there’s also a mirror that never shatters and a stage you cannot walk off. Most celebrities are not living—they are surviving. Under the gloss: anxiety, insomnia, the terror of being forgotten. On camera: beaming, brand partnerships and “authenticity.”
Now compare that to the life of an average person. It’s not ideal — but it offers one secret boon: the option of not being seen. To fail quietly. To feel deeply. To mourn and evolve without the press releases. That’s not obscurity — that could be real life.
So before we run to replicate renown, let’s slow ourselves down and ask:
Are we valuing their authenticity or visibility?
Are we attracted to their actual work, or mesmerized by their numbers?
Do we actually long to be them — or are we merely exhausted by being us?
Here’s a thought:
Perhaps no one knowing you is the new luxury. Perhaps peace resides not in the light, but in its absence. Perhaps the real icons are the people making the world better—and doing it without a camera in their faces.
The Quiet Exit: When the Greats Unplugged the Applause
There comes a moment for every public figure when the noise starts to subside. Most fear that silence. But a handful — a very small handful — welcome it like an old friend.
Dilip Kumar, the first Bollywood star, could have clung to relevance. But he didn’t. He let the cameras go. And he did so with his dignity intact. He did not need the world to know him to know who he was.
The earthy charmer Dharmendra didn’t fight the fade. He flowed with it. He aged not into irrelevance — but into memory. Ask anyone who lived through his time; his legacy didn’t fade — it intensified.
All around the world, legends like Paul Newman turned their backs on fame not because they were done being stars but because they wanted to become human again. He made salad dressing. He built hospitals. He didn’t need the applause — he had purpose.
Audrey Hepburn, after dazzling Hollywood, decided to devote herself to children, with UNICEF. She traded red carpets for muddy roads in far-flung corners of the globe. That’s not career rebranding. That’s soul work.
And then there are the rare figures in politics — the likes of Abraham Lincoln, Atal Bihari Vajpayee — leaders who understood that staying visible isn’t the same as staying powerful. They let their actions echo. They didn’t hold onto microphones. They let their silence speak.
What ties them all together?
They outgrew the game. They outgrew themselves. And because they hadn’t tried to be unforgettable…
They became unforgettable.
Today, fame looks like a race you cannot stop running. But the true legends — they exited the track. They didn’t run from silence. They made peace with it. Because they were packed inside.
And when you’re fed on the inside,
the outer cheer dims to background noise.
Sources & Mentions:
- Dolly Chaiwala’s viral clip with Bill Gates (Instagram, YouTube, 2024)
- Ranveer Allahbadia (BeerBiceps): Critiques and commentary across Indian podcasts and YouTube debates
- Dilip Kumar & Dharmendra: Documented retrospectives and interviews in Indian film journals and digital archives
- Paul Newman: Founder of Newman’s Own, philanthropy details from Newman’s Own Foundation
- Audrey Hepburn: UNICEF archives and authorized biographies
- Abraham Lincoln & Atal Bihari Vajpayee: Speeches and biographies from official government archives and public domain resources