There’s something deeply ironic about dying for someone who doesn’t even know you exist.

Yet it keeps happening.
In temples built for film stars.
In stampedes at cricket stadiums.
At political rallies that feel more like religious sermons than democratic gatherings.

And when tragedy strikes — like at the Chinnaswamy Stadium during RCB’s felicitation, where 11 people lost their lives — we mourn, blame the system, maybe curse fate. But we rarely turn the mirror on ourselves.

Because uncomfortable truths don’t trend.

We Created the Monsters

We don’t just admire celebrities — we elevate them.
To cricketers, we offer blind faith.
To actors, milk baths and massive cutouts.
To politicians, our uncritical loyalty.

A six from Kohli, a wink from a movie star, or a fiery speech from a neta is enough to crown them as something more than human. We follow them — emotionally, blindly, even dangerously.

What starts as admiration spirals into addiction. And like all addictions, it has consequences.

When Obsession Turns Ugly

This isn’t about isolated cases. This is a pattern — and it turns deadly when it scales.

• Sridevi’s funeral (2018): Over 2 million people. Stampede-like conditions. Injuries, chaos — all for a final glimpse.
• MG Ramachandran’s death (1987): 145 people died in riots and stampedes. Trains stopped. Cities shut down.
• Dr. Rajkumar’s death (2006): Riots across Bangalore. Vehicles torched. 8 dead. Fans furious they couldn’t see his body.
• RCB Felicitation (2025): 11 dead. Not due to violence, but uncontrolled fandom. A crowd that crushed itself trying to celebrate.

It’s not just about grief or celebration anymore — it’s about proximity. To be near, to touch, to be seen.

And it’s only getting worse.

Celebrity obsession has morphed into personal-space vandalism.

Earlier this year, I wrote about our selfie and autograph addiction — sparked by an incident in Dubai, where tennis star Emma Raducanu was visibly uncomfortable as a fan followed her relentlessly. It wasn’t admiration. It was entitlement.

We don’t want to remember celebrities — we want to own them.
A photo. A glance. A wave.
And in chasing that moment, we trample everything else — including each other.

Your Obsession Is Their Currency

None of these celebrities asked for this.
But they didn’t ask you to stop either.
Because your obsession feeds the machine.

Your cheers fill their feeds.
Your retweets build their brand.
Your tears, your money, your time — it’s all monetized.

And what do you get in return? A jersey. A movie ticket. A “thanks fans” post.

Or worse — a scar. A hospital bill. A funeral.

Take a Hard Look

We often say celebrities don’t care. But did they ever ask for your worship?

It’s time we stop confusing admiration with submission.

Be a fan — not a fool.
Enjoy their craft — don’t die for it.

They’re not gods. They’re professionals. With PR teams, brand deals, and a net worth built on your devotion.

And you? You got a selfie. Maybe.
Or maybe, you didn’t get to go home at all.

So the next time you raise someone on a pedestal, ask yourself:
What are you gaining?
What are you risking?
And will they even know when you fall?

Fandom isn’t fatal.
But the way we practice it?
That’s what’s killing us.