Rakhi Ka Swayamvar - The Scene

You know who we really feel bad about. Mallika Sherawat. Not that she's starving or homeless, but still, she has been wronged.

Cut back to 2003. The run up to the release of Khwahish. Mallika Sherawat. A small town Jat girl from a conservative family, in a brazenly bold movie, known more for the 17 kisses than its creative or thespian quality. But more than anything what put Mallika on the cover of magazines before even her debut movie hit the screens, was her talk. Here she was showing more skin than Fat Bastard in Austin Powers in Goldmember, while lecturing on women empowerment to anyone who would listen. Here was a woman, who embraced the sex symbol tag, not perhaps with a grace of Zeenat Aman, but rather the audacity of Marilyn Monroe. In three short years, she reached the peak of her career, rather anticlimactically by making out with and making cinematic love to Emraan Hashmi in Murder.

But little did she know, she had sown the seeds of her own gradual slide into obscurity. Enter Rakhi Sawant. Another hot babe from a 'conservative' family, who didn't mind a few inches off her clothes. But Rakhi had done her homework. She will dish none of the preaching and eventually monotonous self-righteousness air that Mallika walked around with. Instead we get a full bouquet of emotions, from the brash item girl to the meek girl of traditional values, this one never gets boring. Rakhi Sawant has singlehandedly proved that as a nation all our talk of women (so-called) empowerment, or Bollywood's reluctant attempts at progressive, intelligent entertainment, is all just an unconvincing facade. Deep down inside all that the Indian television audience really wants, is a riveting soap opera. Complete with the gharelu ideals, the vamp, the scandals and what better way to top it all off, than with a glamourous marriage.

Rakhi Sawant was the complete entertainment package fulfilling the needs of the entire Indian family. Rakhi Sawant, The Great Indian Tamasha.