Unpopular opinion: Jaya Bachchan’s angry reaction was justified. Most times, she does have a point.

Photographing or filming anybody without their permission in a public place is unacceptable but unavoidable. The onus is therefore on the individual, especially a celebrity, to face up to today’s reality that when in public, someone could click your photograph without your permission. Deepika-Ranveer, Anushka-Virat, Rani-Aditya Chopra and Alia-Ranbir have an understanding with the paparazzi who lower their cameras and don’t take pictures of their kids until the parents are ready for it. But recently, when someone out there photographed Deepika’s baby Dua and uploaded it, it underlined just how much the responsibility lies with the parent. It is the actor who must take precautions to protect her child. Dev Anand always maintained, even in the era when mobile phones did not exist, “I have to be at my discreet best in public. I can’t expect others to turn blind and not notice me.”

Neither you nor I would like a stranger to ambush us and take a selfie without permission. Jaya was, therefore, well within her rights to shove the person away and demand, “What do you think you’re doing?” when an unknown person interrupted her conversation with someone, and readied himself for a selfie with her.

But Jaya on fire makes an amusing reel and flashbulbs somehow bring it on. Even when cameramen are doing their jobs from a designated area, Jaya can’t help scolding them. “Aishwaryaji,” she once corrected them, though Aishwarya herself was easy with the paparazzi, having known some of the senior cameramen for decades.

But Jaya is a Bengal tigress. Like Sharmila, Raakhee, Moushumi and Aparna Sen in the film industry. Or Mamata in the political world. Unafraid women with aggressively independent views. You may not always agree with her, but Jaya is a classic case of what you see is what you get. There is no pretence.

A few years ago, she told me bluntly, “I wasn’t responding to you because I was upset with you. How could you write that I wore my sari shabbily?” She added, “Abhishek, who was reading it over my shoulder, asked me, ‘But Ma, isn’t she your friend?’” Once she got it off her chest, she was back to being the person who’ll quietly hold your hand at a function, indicating that she’s with you while she finishes her conversation with someone else.

You could question her selective ire — raging against rape at times but staying silent over Mulayam Singh’s “Boys will be boys” statement. That’s how politicians are.

You could question her turning it into a gender issue when the deputy chairman of the Rajya Sabha called her Jaya Amitabh Bachchan. “Naya tareeka hai ki mahilayen apne pati ke naam se jaani jaye. Unka koi astitva nahi,” she protested, ignoring the Rajya Sabha bio-profile that listed her under that name. Besides, she did change her surname from Bhaduri to Bachchan, unlike most feminists. But when she talks of astitva, she does have an undeniable identity of her own.

While Amitabh took voluntary sanyas from politics and stayed fiercely apolitical in public, Jaya has staunchly supported one party that keeps sending her to the Rajya Sabha. She continues to do the occasional film, too. Unreleased is Vikas Bahl’s Dil Ka Darwaaza Khol Na Darling, in which Jaya costars with Siddhant Chaturvedi, a close friend of the Bachchans’ granddaughter, Navya Naveli.

But it is her rage that unfortunately keeps Jaya in the news. The “Main shraap deti hoon, I curse you” anger that she spewed in Parliament, and her spats with fans and photographers who dare come too close with a camera in hand.

After every such display of temper, a common comment on social media is, “Amitabh deserves a trophy. How does he take it?” Because Amitabh is a study in contrast. Controlled, temperate, you never know what’s going on in his mind.

The answer is simple. Jaya is unfiltered. Amitabh is circumspect.

Opposites do attract.

Bharathi S. Pradhan is a senior journalist and an author