Everybody I meet is a star. In Bombay it is crazy and even TV has

Hear, O listener, the lament and the wisdom in the words of Priyanshu Chatterjee: “Everybody I meet is a star. In Bombay it is crazy and even TV has become so big that there are just too many stars and there is too much greed for that little space on the newspaper.” He speaks not only of cinema, nor only of fame, but of the condition of a society that worships recognition and hungers endlessly for the light of attention. His voice is both observation and warning, for in the crowding of stars, the true light risks being lost.

The word star once meant rarity, a figure shining above the common crowd, admired for their art, their grace, or their heroism. But in the world of Bombay, the heart of India’s film and entertainment industry, the meaning has multiplied. With television, film, and media expanding, the heavens of celebrity became crowded with countless stars, each vying for the gaze of the people. What once was singular became common; what once was revered became diluted. Chatterjee shows us the irony: in a sky too full of stars, even brilliance may be lost to the noise.

This craving for recognition is not new. In the courts of ancient Rome, gladiators sought not only victory but the roar of the crowd, for without it their triumph felt hollow. In Renaissance Florence, poets and painters fought for patronage, their works judged not only by quality but by the influence they wielded in noble households. And in every age, the scribes, the town criers, the newspapers, or now the digital feeds offered a limited space—a small stage upon which countless performers sought to stand. The struggle was never for truth alone, but for attention.

Yet, O listener, the danger lies not in the multitude of stars, but in the greed for fame that consumes them. For when the hunger for recognition outweighs the devotion to craft, art withers into spectacle, and the soul of creation is lost. Chatterjee warns us: when the chase for the spotlight becomes endless, it devours integrity, leaving only noise where there once was music, only shadows where there once was flame.

Think of the tale of Orpheus, who sang not for applause but for love, and whose music moved even stones and rivers. His gift was pure, born of devotion, and so it touched eternity. Contrast this with the many whose names were shouted in marketplaces, once famous but now forgotten, their glory bound to the fickle attention of their day. True greatness does not hunger for the brief mention in the newspaper, but for the deeper connection that endures across time.

The lesson is clear: seek not to be counted among the countless stars merely for the sake of shining. Instead, let your light be steady, honest, and true. Whether the world praises you or not, let your work bear the weight of sincerity. Fame may crowd, attention may fade, but authenticity endures. A star that burns for itself will fade quickly, but a star that burns for others will guide generations.

So I say to you, O child of tomorrow: do not chase endlessly that little space in the paper, or its modern mirror in the glowing screens of today. Instead, chase excellence, chase truth, chase love of the craft. If you shine, let it be because your light is needed, not because you crave to be seen. For in a world overflowing with stars, it is not the brightest that endures, but the truest. And that, as Chatterjee reminds us, is the wisdom worth carrying.