Focussed writing

Which of the two options would you go for if you were asked to write on “ Water crisis in India” or “ Why voluntary labour campaign at the Upper Lake in Bhopal not yielding desired results"?
You can write reams and reams of papers on the first. To write meaningfully on the second subject, you must be more informed and focussed. The first theme has little chances of impressing the reader, no matter howsoever painstakingly it is written ; the second has great potential to become eminently readable if the writer has actually observed the Upper Lake and followed media reports on the campaign.
I recently evaluated 57 essays on water. Students of a journalism institute wrote the essays on the theme “ Bin Paani Sab Soon”. I felt the students’ writing skills could have been judged better, had the theme been less vague and vast. Because of the broad canvas , the subject astounded the students.
Most of them had to resort to generalizations like what percentage of the Planet Earth is filled with water, the threat to ecological balance, spectre of growing global –warming, myriad awareness campaigns etc.
They also tried to embellish their essays with statistics, which are often boring, no matter their usefulness.
Such sweeping generalizations take the sheen off a write- up, whether it is a college essay or a soft feature or a hard newspaper story.
The more focussed the subject, the more scope for effective expression it affords. It doesn’t mean that write-up should be one-dimensional.
A story on Upper Lake can touch upon global water crisis as well. It all depends on how beautifully you weave the story, marshal your facts and keep readers interest alive.
Brevity and focus are the keys to holding the reader’s interest. I have been telling this to my colleagues for years.

Joy of losing

I can’t recall winning a single bet I had with friends at the Indian Coffee House all these years. For, I had not betted to win in the first place. If at all I won any, the victory was despite my wish to lose. Before you wonder if I am a big fool or flush with ill-gotten Crores, let me explain why I enjoy losing bets.
The contentment on the faces of stakeholders (friends) while ordering some thing to eat at the ICH from the won bet enthralls me. Every one believes the money belongs to either none or all. The equitable sense of belonging to the bet engenders an enchanting cacophony when stakeholders dispute over what to order. The added bonhomie lasts till at least the ordered snacks are served and eaten.
Alas, all this is under jeopardy ICH Mehfil is all but deserted.
I guess Rashid Kidwai, my fellow ICH sitter, shares my idea. He too is fond of losing – at times winning by default- bets. The won money is meant to be spent then and there only.
Some might say buying happiness thus is also selfishness. I agree. Maybe, I secretly seek to derive a vicarious pleasure of a host in losing bets. This is plausible because I don’t socialize.
I have never celebrated my children’s birthday or my marriage anniversary at home. Neither my monotonous career or less-than-ordinary horoscope has occasioned any great moments to throw parties. Power parties where ministers, IAS officers and ‘Who’s Who’ types are invited and keenly awaited are anathema to me. Some friends in the media, of course, use such occasions to gain access to VIPs.
Friends, who are otherwise great friends, don’t seem to think it fit to visit my home just for visit. I guess not-so-swanky home with down market drawing- room has its own disadvantages. Nonetheless, I am happy this way.
This being the case, the host in me must be restive. And that probably explains joy of losing bets.
Admittedly, I haven’t lost fortunes in betting. Most bets were worth Rs 100 each. A couple of them were in four-figure too. We have mostly betted on cricket and elections.
In the last assembly election, I betted on Congress victory. I knew for sure I am going to lose. Having spent 29 years in journalism, could I have been so naïve not to have read writing on the wall ?
Once again I have betted with Rashid on Congress winning at least 15 seats in Lok Sabha election from MP. Am I winning?
One famous bet on the World Cup Football two years ago in which every one had an equal stake was won by a friend, who was not exactly an ICH regular. That big bet had a different fate than the other ones. We failed to make the ICH richer with that big money.

Jangam Vidyapeeth

Poet Rajesh Joshi’s excellent write-up on Dr Namvar Singh in Dainik Bhaskar’s Sunday supplement today touched the core of heart. It is a great piece of literature worth preserving. How I wish I could present the piece in English translation here!
Rajesh has quoted Baba Nagarjun as describing Dr Namvar Singh “ Jangam Vidyapeeth Ke Kulpati”. Admittedly, I read this phrase for the first time. But I am absolutely marveled at the most apt description of the octogenarian ace Hindi critic.
Rajesh has simplified ‘Jangam Vidyapeeth’ as ‘Bol Kar Batana’. Its literal translation is a futile exercise. Viewed in the context of the write-up, the Jangam Vidyapeeth Ke Kulpati could mean the scholar-head of the varsity that disseminates knowledge through spoken words rather than written ones.
Dr Namvar Singh is endowed with rare gift of erudition and articulation. The combination has made him the most respected (and controversial too) Hindi critic. He has been regaling his audiences across India with his incisive observations on literature, social science, politics and ideologies for the last three decades.
Dr Singh’s baritone voice, Marxist worldview, accurate selection of words, weaving personal experiences with the given subject, treasure of anecdotage and repartees come into a vibrant play when he speaks.
More importantly, the sensitive listener gets enough in Dr Singh’s lectures to carry on home for long time to ruminate with friends. It is not as though a juggler of words has cast a spell whose magic is off the moment one is out of the lecture hall. His magic is enduring.
Dr Khagendra Singh Thakur has done a great service to Hindi literature by compiling Dr Namvar Singh’s important lectures in a book form—‘Alochak Ke Mukh Se’.
Rajesh’s piece has evoked some old memories too.
Hindi’s progressive writers have a penchant for invoking Dr Namvar Singh, Muktibodh and Munshi Premchand at the drop of a hat. Of the three, only Dr Namvar Singh is alive.
That perhaps explains why the Hindi critic is not always remembered reverentially as the other two (Gajanan Madhav Muktibodh and Munshi Prem Chand) are.
During the famous literary standoff between the Bharat Bhavan and the progressive writers during Ashok Vajpeyi’s heydays in eighties, Dr Namvar Singh was leading the Marxists’ charge against the multi- art complex.
I had numerous opportunities to mingle with writers, wannabe writers and camp followers of both sides in those years. The reactions would amuse me.
Many young writers on both sides would denigrate or eulogize Dr Singh without much knowledge about his contribution to Hindi literature. The camp following in literature is as much, if not more, blinded by personal loyalties to the leader as in politics.
Words like “Akahdebaaz”, “ Paththa” emptily reverberated the seemingly fierce debates in closed- door drinking sessions and seminars on polemics about Bharat Bhavan versus progressives.
The debates amused me no end. Since I was neither a writer nor aspired to become one, I could afford to view Dr Namvar Singh objectively.
My assessment of Dr Singh was illuminated by reading of his book ‘Doosari Parampara Ki Khoj’ and his marvelous evaluations of the poets of “Tar Saptak.” It was he who established Muktibodh as grater poet than Agneya. It was he who, despite ideological differences, pronounced Nirmal Verma as one of the most important storywriters.
I can go on writing endlessly. But that’s not my purpose. The purpose was to tickle the memory of the days when the camp following in Hindi literature in MP had spawned a plethora of ill-informed and semi-literate writers.
They are nowhere in the contemporary literary scene.
Only those who had the capacity to imbibe their literature with historical insight survived.
Rajesh Joshi is one of the most illustrious examples. And such writers still respect Dr Namvar Singh.
Lastly, I can’t go without mentioning that when Bharat Bhavan’s magazine ‘Purvagrah’ was revived recently, the trust chose Dr Namvar Singh to release it in New Delhi.
An incorrigible Marxist was thought most suitable by RSS-controlled Bharat Bhavan to release its in-house magazine. Of course, it enhanced prestige of both.