O’ Journalism

Ok this is a bit personal. I work as a product manager in one of India’s widely read newspaper. And following is the conversation I had with a friend of mine after reading an article I had done which covers the lighter aspects of life -

Friend: ” …. so this is what passes for journalism nowadays. People die in this country when it rains/doesn’t rain. People die when theres a heatwave/coldwave…. and we have a person (text changed to conceal identity) giving his spin on blah blah mushy mushy (text changed to conceal identity of the newspaper). Great.Where do people publish the truth? anymore… Where’s Gordon Gekko – lunch is for wimps….SIGH…thats all I have time for..”

Me: “Yes, this is journalism. It doesn’t mean that you always have to write about Gordon Gekkos and Human Piranhas. Sometimes we do need to address lighter issues to slow down the readers and not solipsistically laid out stories which ‘we’ like. Nevertheless we just don’t write ‘anything’ which can be considered reader likable unless it is something of great importance. Otherwise my paper would see itself as a tabloid and would be put in the same rank as ABC and XYZ (text changed to conceal identity of the newspaper) who don’t report but opine.

I think the series ‘blah blah blah’ (text changed to conceal identity of the newspaper) is not shroud under flippancy, rather it was a great breather after Srikrishna Commision report, 1993 blasts verdict, Mumbai under siege (monsoon) …..

I didn’t write this because I work in my paper, its because I believe in my paper.”

Friend: “Come on mate, you should be more intelligent than that. Regarding the other newspaper from your company (text changed to conceal identity of the newspaper), the strategy was bad. I think whoever was in charge of the paper should be fired. I don’t say it’s a bad paper. Its good and its got good coverage of stuff which I like. And the readability is miles ahead of fucking ABC. But you would have disappointed/alienated 80% of your reader with the ridiculous sign up process. thats why they had to run like a mangy dog and change that 3 months down the line. But the damage is already done. So you guys are neither there – like ABC and XYZ or here – Like the Indian Express”

All this while I had maintained a saving grace as I was proud to be a Product Manager. But reality bites (a cliche, believe me, I have used after a long time) when we operate a newspaper in an era when it has become a media rather than an information source. Newspaper is now suffocating between information and revenue generation. Also it’s neither a breaking news medium like TV or internet and nor a lazy read like a magazine.

Are newspapers dying?

Epitaph on a tyrant …

Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;
When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,
And when he cried the little children died in the streets.

~ W. H. Auden

“I think it would be healthier for Daddy to sleep in his own bed”

Frank O Connor has concocted the great potion of childhood flashbacks in his novel “My Oedipus Complex and others” .. Hey Freud! Take a hike man! Frank is here … just kidding! Great read – hilarious and thought inducing – a story about Larry – a small kid, who was comfortable and happy with his mom till his father comes back home from war. Early memories of his father were those where he came like Santa Claus at night … His world comes to a halt when his mom’s time was shared by his father. He used to sleep with his mom, but as Daddy arrived Larry was asked to sleep in his own bed coz it was healthier that way – Larry retorted – “I think it would be healthier for Daddy to sleep in his own bed”. He was always used to talking to his mom in the morning n bed – but alas! Daddy is very tired and he wants to sleep… “Not to come in and disturb poor Daddy in the morning. Promise?” “Poor Daddy” again! I was becoming suspicious of everything involving that quite impossible man.
He starts scheming against this stranger-in-his-mom’s-bed – how to send Daddy back to war. He then understood that his mom is more interested in Daddy than him. So he started behaving like his dad – smoking, reading newspapers -“He had a common accent and made noises at his tea”. “I even made noises at my tea, but Mother only told me I was disgusting”.

Poor Larry ends up fighting head on with Daddy -

“I see he’s better fed than taught,” snarled Father, waving his arms wildly. “He wants his bottom smacked.” All his previous shouting was as nothing to these obscene words referring to my person. They really made my blood boil.
“Smack your own!” I screamed hysterically. “Smack your own! Shut up! Shut up!”

That night broke him … he got a slap from his dad and he heard words he never heard before.

Now Larry got used to this routine and accepted things till little Sonnie came along – his baby brother … Well Larry didn’t like him and accused the poor baby that it cries because it wants attention but he accepted the way his mom started treating him … Only his Daddy who couldn’t accept the fact that his wife who spent her whole day with him suddenly is interested with the baby …

Guess what happens in the end … well I don’t wanna spoil it for you … read the short story by clicking here

I liked the story because it depicts the child’s world very vividly with adult insinuations. Something like Calvin & Hobbes. I find a Larry in me – may not be the Oedipus Complex but the kid …

When I was a kid, I used to be the best a house can get – very quiet, no tantrums, healthy and content. My mom named me Ashok – she felt that I am like the Ashoka flower – white, spotless and peaceful. I should have thrown tantrums and done everything that a kid does … well can’t go back to childhood again … tough luck huh!

“And this also,” said Marlow suddenly, “has been one of the dark places of the earth”

Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad fascinated a friend of mine after he watched, “Apocalypse Now” … years passed by… I still feel a sense of fear as to why he was so fascinated. Never could I fathom the depth of darkness he imagined and yet the very fact that the outwardly normal self of his had a darker side, which I am not familiar with, … intrigued me as well as saddened me….

I picked up the copy last year and absorbed every bit of it … the motif of darkness is very interesting – the dark continent, the Congo … the river .. the Africans .. or the characters .. Or is it the unknown .. Did you ever surprise yourself with something you thought you would never do? Do u shudder with disgust when you want to hate someone with all your heart? Do you want to see blood when blood makes you vomit? The very concept of Unknown becomes meaningless unless you find the “unknown” in you …

In the heart of darkness lies hate hate and hate …. Bleed this heart to free thyself from hatred …

Shelter from the Storm Part 2

>> contd… from last post

She arrived a little earlier … could her questions be answered any earlier? Will the mystery man answer her questions? With no parsimony in expectations she waited with bated breath …. tick tock tick tock … ticking in her mind … ticking in her heart … Shankar didn’t arrive … She called her number … she hated her favorite caller tune …

Now there’s a wall between us, somethin’ there’s been lost
I took too much for granted, got my signals crossed.
Just to think that it all began on a long-forgotten morn.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

She sent an SMS to him – Whoevr u r plz gve my phne else I’ll tell police. U dnt knw da troubl I had. I waitd fr 3 hrs nd expctd dat u’ll b decent persn and return my phne, U r a thief – exactly 160 characters – she didnt want to waste a single character for him … She cried … tear drops of regret … She cursed the moon …She cursed the Nakabandi, her poverty … she doesn’t want her cell phone back… she doesn’t want her cell phone back … she dozed off …

Well, the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount
But nothing really matters much, it’s doom alone that counts
And the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Next morning her friend gives Reena her old cellphone and tells her to use it for the time being. After office, she calls up her number… Shankar pics up, “I am so sorry that I couldnt come… you see I got busy with this meeting …” Reena interrupts, “Thats ok, I assumed you’ll be tied up … By the way what do you do? … lemme guess -you are a DON .. (chuckles!) .. no no no … you are a smuggler .. i know your types .. I have seen it all … D, Satya, Company … each one of them” … Shankar laughs with his guttural splendor …”Why are you laughing? You think I am kidding… no I am not… if you wouldn’t have picked the phone, I would have called the police… by the way I am asking all sorts of question … who cares!! Why did you find only me, that day, to share the autorickshaw?” … Silence engulfed .. as if it was a repertoire of lonliness – lonliness that has become a part of their lives .. Shankar said,” hmmm … you have a beautiful voice …” Reena smiled, “How stupid is that … hey one sec! I didn’t even speak to you that day ….” … “Well, you spoke to me through your eyes .. sigh!” … Reena closed her eyes in excitement … “Ok Ok! Don’t flatter … you don’t even know me… So are you planning to return my cell phone ..” .. Shankar grins, “Do you really want it?” Reena keeps the phone …. her heart stops beating … Shankar goes out for a smoke and wonders – Does she love me?

I’ve heard newborn babies wailin’ like a mournin’ dove
And old men with broken teeth stranded without love.
Do I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Shankar tells Reena the next morning that he will be going out on a business trip and he promises her to call. As any sad story turns out to be .. he never calls …. days, weeks and even months pass by … Reena tried calling him back but he was out of range .. she even called up her service provider to find out if they know where he can be …. But he was not there? Life is playing a dirty trick on you Reena. Everything was perfect for you … I never gave you a chance to complain .. you were so brave that you didn’t even cry when your parents passed away … you were not afraid to live a lonely life .. look now what happened .. you don’t even know his name … hey! why didn’t you ask his name? Are you a fool? Why do you like him so much .. you saw him only once and spoke to him twice .. are you out of your mind? Oh! I know why – those kind eyes .. I see! those kind words … I see!! He will come back Reena … he will ….

In a little hilltop village, they gambled for my clothes
I bargained for salvation an’ they gave me a lethal dose.
I offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Shankar had no way of escaping the doom … How can they shut me up … I didn’t do anything … It was all his fault .. I never wanted to do this … I wanted to have a decent life … I had no one …. no one by my side … She came in … Her beautiful voice … her melody .. her questions … If my mother would have been alive … she would have asked me with such curiosity … How can I escape this hell ? How can I go and meet her … I want to return her phone … this precious phone … hahahah! they can’t take it away from me … they can’t !! hahahhah

Well, I’m livin’ in a foreign country but I’m bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razor’s edge, someday I’ll make it mine.
If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

3 months and 12 days … Shankar saw day light … they released him … they didn’t find anything that Shankar could give them …

9819772440 … dialing … dialing … it was her 104th try … Oh! God … hope he is alright … he never told me it would be so long … wherever he is, he…. beep! Somebody picks up … “Hellow!” Reena – “Is it you … is it you …. I am Reena .. remember Reena .. my phone .. autorickshaw … …” Shankar started weeping … .. he kept weeping for minutes … Reena’s eyes started watering too … Shankar gather himself and told her to come to the same place in an hour … he had something very important to say … “I am so sorry Reena .. I’ll explain everything … not just my disappearance but more …” Reena didn’t think twice … She set off from Worli in an auto rickshaw …. She reached Phoenix Mills and asked him to come to Noodle bar. He obliged. Her eyes moved from corner to corner to find him … but he was nowhere to be seen … she calls again … That is my ring tone … wait that phone looks like mine … but the guy is different … probably its not mine … Wait I’ll keep the phone and call again … What! it stopped ringing … Why is that guy not picking the phone? Why is he startled? Why is he looking here and there? …….

“Are you Reena?” the same kind voice …. but not those kind eyes “Yes, I am… Do you have my phone?” … “Oh! Reena and he hugs her …” She releases herself from his clutches and embarrased, “Who are you? Where is he?” … He looks down, “I am he!” … “What do you mean? You are not the one who took away my phone!“

He looks at her eyes, “No, I am not Shankar – the one who took your phone … I am Suresh – the one whose voice you are familiar with“

She is puzzled … she grabs a glass of water and drinks it … He picks up her glass and drinks the remaining water … She looks at him in confusion, ” I don’t understand … what is going on?” Suresh makes her sits down with an assuring gesture, as assuring as his voice, “Shankar and I are flat mates… We came to Bombay for jobs and we got ourselves into trouble… Shankar found bad company and I got dragged in … That day when you called on this cellphone for the first time, Shankar took off and he never returned ….“

Reena closes her eyes ….. All these days I was in love with the voice and not with those eyes …. Indeed not all roses are red ….

Reena took his arm and rested her head in his shoulders … “Suresh let us go…“

Well, I’m livin’ in a foreign country but I’m bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razor’s edge, someday I’ll make it mine.
If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Shelter from the Storm Part 1

‘Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Reena never had seen a white rose and she always wondered what good a rose is if it is not red … She was more concerned about how soon she can sleep so that she can wake up early in the morning and catch an early train to avoid the rush … Forget monotonicity … Forget mundanely concerns .. just a step taken to make life easy …

8 am sharp she catches the Andheri local to Mahalakshmi, so that she can catch a bus in time to Worli. Hurriedly she occupies a seat next to the exit and dozzes off….

Shankar was a sharp student … a student of political science from Madras University … But his aspirations were far from what his father had planned for him. He despised society .. He hates the current state of affairs with the same passion as his mother makes idlis in the morning … He wondered how good education is if it is not put into use for the betterment of society, prevent corruption, improve judiciary and above all for the safety and betterment of his countrymen. His ideals and intent was right, but his steps …

Reena and Shankar met that day under very weird circumstances … It was one of those days when roads get blocked for some reason beyond anyone’s comprehension but since they have to give it a name, the call it Nakabandi… All roads were blocked except for one … Reena was lucky to get an autorickshaw and Shankar was lucky to find Reena …

And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured
I’ll always do my best for her, on that I give my word
In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Shankar needed refuge from them and Reena could see that urgency in his face. She allowed Shankar to come in and share the autorickshaw. Ideally she would never do that … but she was speechless … everything happened all of a sudden … blood, dust and Shankar’s imploring eyes … She did something like this for the first time … the 20 mins ride was spent in silent curiosity and ofcourse pounding fear for Reena … Shankar asked for her cell-phone to make a call and all of sudden he asked the driver to stop … Reena didn’t stop him and he left with her cell-phone … He looked back and gave her a warm smile and a nod that he will …..

Not a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved
Everything up to that point had been left unresolved.
Try imagining a place where it’s always safe and warm.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Reena couldn’t recover from it … She wanted to call her cell phone but was afraid … She couldn’t concentrate … She needed to know why he disturbed her? why he came to her life all of a sudden? was she chosen? ….. “why do these questions bothering me? …. indeed it’s not my cheap cellphone”

I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail,
Poisoned in the bushes an’ blown out on the trail,
Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Earlier, Shankar would have finished his task of peril with great agility … but today he was exhausted… He felt tired and lonely … “why am I getting this feeling that something bad is going to happen? … these bastards had never had an one-up one me … I am tired and I need rest … somehow I feel I need to give myself some rest … and God! what could I have done without her … why do I feel that I need her? Do I need her to help me in my quest? ….”

Suddenly I turned around and she was standin’ there
With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair.
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns.
“Come in,” she said,
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Reena always needs closure. For her, the world is black and white – just like the red roses … She called him up later in the evening – “When do you plan to give me my cell- phone .. you know I don’t earn that much to finance your calls and I’m sure you had made enough STD calls … you know my credit limit is ….”, Shankar starts laughing, “Meet me near Phoenix Mills at 7 pm and thanks for your help … you see I am not a bad guy or a criminal running away from police… the blood and my torn shirt was because of an accident …”, Reena interrupts, “Thats ok! Hope you are ok now… Did you apply ointment and …”, Shankar sighs, “Thanks ….”, Reena whispers, “Reena … ok will meet you and don’t waste my money”

Disgraced by your own instincts?

” … the people next door had a dog. It was Male. Whenever there was a bitch in the vicinity it would get excited and unmanageable, and with Pavlovian regularity the owners would beat it. This went on until the poor dog didn’t know what to do. At the smell of the bitch it would chase around the garden with its ears flat and its tail between its legs, whining, trying to hide”

“There was something ignoble in the spectacle that I despaired. One can punish the dog, for an offence like chewing a slipper. A dog will accept the justice of that: a beating for a chewing. But desire is another story. No animal will accept the justice of being punished for following its instincts.”

“…what was ignoble … was that the poor dog had begun to hate its own nature. It no longer needed to be beaten. It was ready to punish itself..”

~ excerpts from DISGRACE by J.M Coetzee