Instagram is a graveyard of sincerity. Every day, the feed demands a sacrifice—a photo of a sourdough starter, a curated vacation breakdown, or, more often than not, a calculated nod to the historical figures who shaped the soil beneath our feet. This week, it was Shivaji Jayanti. The birth anniversary of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj. The prompt went out, and right on cue, the blue-checked elite of Mumbai hit their marks.

Sonali Bendre and Vicky Kaushal were among the first to clock in.

It’s a ritual as predictable as a software update and just as cold. Bendre, a mainstay of the nineties who has successfully pivoted to the "graceful digital elder" archetype, shared her tribute with the kind of polished reverence you’d expect from someone who knows exactly how her lighting affects her engagement rate. Then there’s Kaushal, the man currently holding a monopoly on the "nationalist hero" biopic genre. For him, a post like this isn't just a tribute; it’s a brand-alignment strategy.

The posts themselves are standard fare. A picture of a statue, a saffron flag, maybe a dramatic still from a film set. But let’s look past the pixels. There’s a specific kind of friction at work here, a trade-off that most fans ignore while they’re busy smashing the heart icon. It’s the cost of staying relevant in an attention economy that views history as mere "content."

In the high-stakes game of Indian celebrity, silence is a bug. If you’re a public figure with a following that rivals the population of a small European nation, you don’t get to opt out. The algorithm demands topicality. The fanbases demand performative patriotism. If Bendre or Kaushal skipped the post, the comments section wouldn’t be a place of quiet reflection; it would be a digital riot. The price of that blue tick isn't just the monthly fee Elon or Zuck wants to squeeze out of you; it’s the surrender of your right to just have a quiet Tuesday.

We’ve reached a point where historical figures are essentially seasonal hashtags. Shivaji Maharaj—a tactician who redefined guerrilla warfare and naval strategy—is reduced to a 1080x1350 pixel asset. It’s a flattened version of greatness. We don't talk about the administrative brilliance or the complex geopolitical shifts of the 17th century. We talk about the "vibe." We talk about the "tribute."

Kaushal’s participation is particularly interesting. He’s the guy who played Sam Bahadur and Sardar Udham. He’s built a career on the back of the "man of the soil" trope. For him, these posts are essential maintenance. It’s like keeping the engine oil clean on a luxury SUV. If he doesn't signal-boost the anniversary, the narrative of him being the "voice of the nation" starts to fray at the edges. It’s a calculated, necessary friction. You trade a piece of your digital authenticity for a safer, more marketable public persona.

Bendre, on the other hand, represents the legacy side of this machine. Her tribute feels less like a career move and more like a social obligation. It’s the digital equivalent of showing up to a wedding you didn't really want to attend but knew you’d be judged for missing. Her post is elegant, sure. It’s "on brand." But it’s still part of the same machinery that turns revolutionary history into a scrollable commodity.

The tech platforms love this, of course. These high-engagement days are goldmines for data harvesters. While you’re feeling a surge of pride looking at Vicky Kaushal’s story, the backend is busy categorizing your political leanings, your regional interests, and your likelihood of clicking on an ad for a historical drama streaming on a rival platform. The tribute isn't for the King; it’s for the data points.

There’s an irony in using a billion-dollar silicon stack to celebrate a man who built stone forts with grit and iron. We use haptic feedback and OLED screens to "celebrate" a legacy that was forged in blood and dust. We’ve turned the Maratha Empire into a series of curated highlights, easily digestible between a cat video and a sponsored post for sneakers.

The question isn't whether Bendre or Kaushal actually care about the history. They might. They probably do. The question is whether the platform even allows for real care to exist. When everything is optimized for the "Share" button, does the meaning of the thing being shared even matter?

The feed moves on. By tomorrow, the saffron flags will be buried under a mountain of Valentine’s Day leftovers or the next big movie trailer. The King is dead, the tribute is archived, and the algorithm is already hungry for the next anniversary.

Is a tribute still a tribute if it’s mandatory for the brand?