I think I know why Salman Khan shaves his chest. He cannot afford to show his fans his greying chest hair. Mind you, this beefy man has just enough intelligence to know that the silver screen has no space for ageing youth icons. So when those ominous signs appear — the first few white strands, or crow’s feet around the eyes — out comes the razor or the botox.

Of course, the weapons against time vary: there are wigs, razors, skin-tightening lotions, or even six pack exercise regimes to choose from. But those who lose the battle against age pay a terrible price. Look at what has happened to Rishi Kapoor. The chubby, smiling face that mesmerized young women (and men) in his time is now puffed and fleshy. Consequently, in his films, we see the poor man frequently falling down from cliffs these days: jostled, beaten, and finally pushed over the edge, Kapoor’s portly frame makes a speedy downward exit, with flailing arms, quivering jowls and a sad face (Fanaa, Raju Chacha). The tragedy has a different face at other times. Dev Anand, in his old age, continues making films that no one will watch. Some say that this is his love for cinema. I think it is because the man loves playing games, games in which no one is permitted to remind him that the spotlights have moved away, and are now on younger, comelier faces. So Dev Anand continues to inhabit his doubly make-believe world, directing, acting, romancing. He is the colonel to whom no one sends his scripts.

One cannot but feel for our fading matinée idols and their various props: their jet-black hair for instance. It is difficult to stay in business in an industry in which men are not permitted to age. Moreover, we also make terrible demands on them: that their beauty has to endure, that they have to compete with younger rivals to keep our love and admiration, and that elderly actors can only be cast in benign, avuncular roles. Did I hear someone mention Amitabh Bachchan’s glamorous, aged avatar? But then, even this great man perishes far too easily nowadays: while fighting corruption (Dev), or from a broken heart (Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna). He has has also played a ghost — lest we are in a hurry to forget the dead (Bhootnath).

Audiences in other cultures can be quite as uncharitable. But the West is certainly not averse to loving old heroes lighting up their screens. Harrison Ford still gets to go on an adventure with the crystal skull, while Clint Eastwood teaches Hillary Swank how to throw punches. And let us not even get started on Connery’s Bond. Mercifully, there are a few elderly icons whom we adore. Such as the five senior players in our cricket team. But when it comes to our films, we only have time for Rekha.