Courtesy: Vidura | July-September
2018 http://www.pressinstitute.in/category/vidura/
Indians, despite their stodginess in
sticking to age-old practices, are quite innovative in their use of English
language. Vote bank, desi, paratha, thali, child lifter (rather than kidnapper)
and prepone are such innovations that have found space in Oxford English
dictionary, the holy grail of the language. Here is Colonel R Hariharan’s rather humourous take
Though we see words such as vote
bank, desi, paratha, thali and child
lifter in our newspapers, we never notice them because we have become
accustomed to them; familiarity breeding content…
During the 1971 war on the eastern
front, I shepherded a bunch of foreign media persons who wanted to see some of
the captured areas. After trudging through a couple of miles, looking at a few
bodies, shot up tank and a bullet ridden train, the night fall was gloomy. I
appreciated when one of the resourceful military men with me, took out a bottle
of whiskey and passed it round, literally rousing our spirits. An American
correspondent based in Delhi chatted with me about life in India and Indian
media.
I came to realise our quaint
Victorian usages only when he asked me, "Captain, why Indian media always
"takes out a procession", when back home we "parade"? Our
leaders when they die are not cremated according to our media, but are always
"consigned to the flames" just as our army jawans are not killed but
martyred. That's not all.
In the 60s we had the irrepressible
Gubil Sundaresan from Kumbakonam or VRR Mani from Chromepet "craving the
indulgence of the editor of the Hindu" or "seeking the hospitality of
your columns" to comment on the "apropos" news item, filling up
the letters to the editor column. But pressure of ad space, and ever reducing
readers attention span have taken the shine off the letters.
However, political reporting is full
of cliches in which our leaders revel. God forbid any upstart sub-editor edits
out one of the media-savvy leaders speeches. He will be hauled up on hot coals
by the editor, am sure, as it happened to me as a greenhorn sub in PTI in the
70s.
It was the early days of Swantra
Party, which Rajaji had formed. Rajaji knew how to use the press to build Swatantra
party's political image. Every evening it was open house for journalists at his
home and Rajaji would answer any question. I had also attended a few of such
sessions.
The following day, he would check how
much of what he said was carried by the newspapers. Once, I wielded red pencil
rather liberally to trim the copy of Rajaji's daily media interaction - which
was full of ideas but which had become cliches by daily repetition. Next day, Rajaji
called the PTI office and I happened to take the call.
The conversation went something like
this: "Rajagopalachari speaking. I find you have carried only one column
of my press meet, whereas I find Hindustan
Times has carried two columns...." I just didn't know what to say and
the editor took the phone from my hand. He apologised to the octogenarian
leader and promised to carry his speeches in full.
After putting down the phone, the
editor gave me a dirty look and a dressing down in his heavy Palghat-accented
English. "Hariharan, what you think you are? A methavi (all knowing
fellow) to edit Rajaji's copy? Is
this what they taught you in journalism course? Never touch his copy. We exist,
because of leaders like him. You respect them, they respect you. Get that in
your thick head," he finished in one breath.
It was like telling me a home truth.
I understood the press had a symbiotic relationship with politicians, and
needed to respect each other's space with its own invisible lakshman rekha (limit).Today, does the
electronic media in its multiple avatars see any such rekha in its competitive quest for instant gratification? Your
guess is as good as mine.
[The
writer is a retired colonel of the Intelligence Corps. He writes and speaks on South Asia and its
neighbourhood as well as terrorism, the areas of his specialties during the
service.]