Woh Meharban Kal Ho Na Ho

Finally, I bought a harmonium today. This is two months after I began learning Dhrupad. Harmonium is not used in Dhrupad. It is not classical musical instrument but my Guru advised me to buy one because he expects me to learn light music too. Next week I will buy a Tanpura, the real and proper instrument for Dhrupad.

In buying harmonium  I was happier than when I bought the most expensive item in my life—my car; a house is still a (pipe) dream. A long deferred personal music journey picked a definite momentum with Sadhna at home today. Oh! What a feeling!

My guru and Dhrupad exponent Manoj Saraf himself took me in his car to Rajwada to buy the harmonium. Manoj is a disciple of Ustad Fariduddin Dagar and with his wife Sulabha makes the only Dhrupad singing couple in India. His confidence in my ability to learn music fast is really a humbling experience to me.

Next month, I plan to start learning Urdu. My old friend Javed Alam , a journalist in Nai Dunia, will be my teacher. I have seen his ability as Urdu teacher. He taught Avinash Duttt Garg ( BBC) and Hartosh Singh Bal ( political editor, OPEN) Urdu without formal lessons, over cups of coffees and chatting in the Indian Coffee House in Bhopal seven years ago. Now , it is my turn to be benefited from his amazing skills.

Indore is beginning to prove quite a learning experience. So many things are at hand to fill the void caused due to separation from the family.

Rigrous gym in the morning, then music class, then Herbalife shake at health club, then cleaning the house and self, then bath, then cooking, then library, then reading at home and then writing the two fictions I had planned a decade ago.  

The time to go to the office ( 4pm) never felt quicker. Once in the office, it nose to the grindstone till 12. 30 am, except for two outings—one for evening walk and breakfast and the other for dinner.   

Talking about writing, I am feeling adequately motivated to resume writing a fiction on the circumstance surrounding rise and fall ( suicide?) by my friend Sarla Mishra, a feisty Congress leader who was found 70% burnt in her house under mysterious circumstance in February, 1997. The other book is rather hazy. Its contours are still to emerge.         

         With all these, I hope my old age will not be an intolerable  boredom. When the severely punished eyes due to reading will begin to lose sight, music will be there to support.

Of course this will happen at least 25 years hence. Till then, Jo Hai Yanha Har Pal Jiyo, Who Mehraban Kal Ho Na Ho.   

Dr Arun Kumar, Jabalpur, Hitavad

Dr Arun Kumar, Jabalpur, Hitavad

Away from family, Indore affords ample time for introspection and retrospection to fill the vast solitude. Today as I remembered how I strayed in journalism in 1980, Dr Arun Kumar persistently flashed on the mind. He is my first Guru in journalism (and probably the only Guru if you think Guru is someone you learn anything useful from).

He was not a journalist though. Dr Arun Kumar was a lecturer in GS Commerce College, Jabalpur. He joined the launching team of Maharshi Mahesh Yogi-owned newspaper ‘Hitavad’ (Hindi) as part time journalist. He had had a brief stint as journalist in Banaras and that eminently qualified him to join the editorial team.

We had an amazing assortment of talented and somewhat eccentric youths in the editorial team. We had an unorthodox MBBS  ( Dr Yogendra Shrivastava), an exceptional theatre artiste (Arun Pandey), a multitasking bundle of energy (Brij Bhushan Shakargayen, photographer), perpetually angst-filled NGO activist (Rajesh Nayak), a veritable encyclopedic of Jabalpur (Shailesh Mishra, Guddu) to name but a few.

I joined the paper accidentally because I happened to be Arun Pandey’s friend and also because I could write well. Beyond that, I had neither appetite nor aptitude for journalism. Many of us owed our entry in Hitavad to Gyanranjan, the editor of Pahal, who was unannounced editorial adviser to the paper.

Gyanji chose to associate himself with the newspaper on request of Anand Shrivastava, Maharshi’s nephew, whose stars in the multi-billion spiritual-commercial organization shone brightest at that time. Anand was Gyanji’s student in the GS College.     

Dr Arun Kumar and Rajiv Shukla were guest editors, so to say. Like Dr Arun Kumar, Rajiv too had some working experience in a newspaper in Banaras. He had done some course in journalism. Rajiv was then programme officer in Agriculture University. He later joined All India Radio and rose up the ladder fast due to competence and erudition. Both Arun Kumar and Rajiv were voracious readers of Hindi and English literature. Dr Arun Kumar was witty and Rajiv humorous ( sometimes black and wry humour) .

I was immensely taken in by their talents. Commonality of reading literature cemented friendships among us in no time. Dr Yogendra Shrivastava, who happened to be Dr Arun Kumar’s neighbour, also shared our reading traits-- and worldview, to a great extent. So, we were all a small debating society for a while.    

Rajiv was almost my peer while Dr Arun Kumar must have been seven-eight years older to us.

What I found most fascinating about Dr Arun Kumar was his inimitable gift to make most difficult things look simple. Being rookies, we would be too excited on the workplace to make a rational selection of news. The overexcitement poorly reflected in our reporting skills as well.

Verbiage is a common ill that afflicts reporting of beginners in journalism. We were, of course, no exception, though I fared little better than most others on this count.

Dr Arun Kumar would, in his characteristic wit, explain the virtues of simplicity in reporting or headlining. Never ever he sounded condescending in explaining basics of journalism. Rajiv too was a great help in our formative days.

Not only in journalism, in other aspects of life too  Dr Arun Kumar’s facility to simplify matters would astound me.  GM Muktibodh was all the rage in those days among Marxist youths. Most critics I heard or read would hold forth on Muktibodh’s poetry sounded either demagogue or esoteric or, simply put, nonsense.

Dr Arun Kumar helped me understand Muktibodh in a remarkably simple language. That helped me go through the  oeuvre of the great poet in six volumes with the kind of confidence I had never experienced before. The same held true for other writers as well.

Dr Arun Kumar was not a critic; he was a teacher. His elder brother Dr Shirish Kumar was critic and professor in Hindi literature in RDVV. Both the brothers could not have been more different in approach to, at least, literature.

Dr Arun was cousin of Gyanranjan and both were colleagues in the GS College. I sensed a healthy respect for each other in them.  

Deconstruction of poetry, persons and polemics with reasonable dose of witticism was Dr Arun Kumar’s forte. The uncluttered analysis would come to him naturally, without efforts. He was exceptionally good at laughing at himself and that, in my view, must have contributed a great deal in making Dr Arun Kumar what he was.  He lived an austere life, without vehicle, in simple house with an adorable wife.

Although we used to laugh at whole range of people, I never discerned any rancour in the humour. I don’t know where Dr Arun Kumar is now. Wherever he is, I wish he knew how much I still respect him.     

    

      

             

Kaka ( Naveen Choubey) and FDI in retail

Kaka ( Naveen Choubey) and FDI in retail

Kaka was not a retail trader whose fate was the core concern in the FDI debate in the parliament. But he was an intrinsic part of what we call mom and pop stores. Kaka was an adorable nuisance who had arrogated himself the task of gratuitously keeping an eye on mobile vegetable venders, local grocery shoppers, gossipmongers at Paan shops, Bhajan singers and Ganja addicts in local temples, potential and real love affairs and sundry happenings in the Mohalla. He had a vantage point, mostly a tree shed, from where he would watch all the goings-on in the vicinity, sitting on a rope-woven cot.  

He was generous in offering unsolicited advices to any one who cared to listen (or even did not care to listen). The advices had a fantastic range. He could be seen railing against the youths for destroying culture. His captive audience on save- culture speeches would mostly be unemployed youths going to or coming from nearby Paan kiosks to while away time.

Next moment Kaka could be seen lamenting on venality in the society. This time, he had Sharmaji ( a Babu in MPEB) or Verma Ji ( a postman) or Shrivastava ji (a food inspector) or any one like them as trapped listeners.

By the time, office goers would start on bicycle for offices, youths for colleges and children for schools, Kaka had read local and national news in the newspapers he had brought with him on the vantage point many times over. His itch to share special comments was irrepressible.

The motley neighbourhood crowds of children, youth, servicemen, housewives, grocers, venders, bicycle-repairers, quacks or vagabonds  of the Mohalla had no choice but to surrender to the Kaka’s tirade against the society as a whole. “ Hamare Zamane Main” would be his refrain in most of the talks.    

But how the Kaka was intrinsic part of the retail trade culture? Well, Kaka was not always a cynical old man fulminating on this or that issue. He would help housewives get grocery items quickly by sending some youths in the surrounding on errands to retail shops.

He could also be an arbiter in disputes between vegetable venders and housewives on money transactions. He was, in many ways, conscience keeper of the Mohalla.

Much as the youth and children might make him butt of jokes, much as housewives might snigger at his interventionist streaks, much as office-goers might scoff at his lament on corruption, the Kaka was part and parcel of the Mohalla culture. His absence would be sorely missed.

So, who was Kaka? He was not just one individual. Kaka was a character born out of close-knit Mohalla culture in small cities and Kasbas. He could be seen in old parts of big cities like Bhopal, Jabalpur or Indore as well. 

Kaka was essentially a lower middle class old man who had a lot of time to release his nervous energy on subjects ranging from local to international.

He could be a retired postman/ schoolteacher or a small time trader. Although irascible, Kaka was not crooked. He would be the first to help make preparations for funeral in neighbourhood. In marriage functions too, he would be among the most enthusiastic hosts, never mind if he was invited indeed.  

That Kaka is now an engendered species. The post-liberalisation culture of pizza/Berger and malls has swallowed him.      

If he still lives in his eloquent best, it is in ‘Nithalle Ki Diary’. The play by Vivechana theatre group of Jabalpur is arguably the most staged Hindi play in MP.

Director Arun Pandey conceived and scripted the play based on satirical stories of great satirist Harishankar Parsai more than two decades ago. Since then ‘Nithalle Ki Diary’ remains flagship production of Vivechana.

Kaka is the sheet anchor of several stories strung together in the play.

My one of the best friends Naveen Choubey essays the Kaka’s role. Naveen has immortalized the character. He had taken the accent for Kaka from our common friend late Mahesh Bajpeyi.

The slow and biting Bundelkhandi accent of Mahesh Bajpeyi suited Kaka well. Naveen internalized the character on stage so perfectly that even for the audience absolutely ignorant of Bundelkhandi the sheer force of dialogue delivery accompanied by quaint mannerism would delight them. No wonder then the play has been hit across India.

   

                    

Weak foundation of English journalism ( 3)

The launching of the HT

The launch of Hindustan Times was preceded by almost a decade- long rumours about this or that national English daily coming to the MP’s capital soon. The rumours kept the hopefuls for change hopeful.

Finally, the HT started in March 2000. It lived up to the euphoria among the small band of young English journalists of Bhopal to a great extent. They were hired on almost double the salary they were getting in the previous papers. The HT, Bhopal, at the time of launching turned out to be the biggest paymaster in all Bhopal newspapers. Even the best of Hindi newspapers were not offering better than the HT.

It started off on promising note. Askari Zaidi, the resident editor, had pucca credentials as someone with proven track record and cosmopolitan outlook.

Abhilash Khandekar’s elevation in the HT as bureau chief was only to be expected. The paper hired a good number of reporters and deskmen and women not only from Bhopal but across India.

Some of them were good, some lethargic and still some utter mediocre. But, none of them could be described as bad apples, as far as my assessment went.   

The HT brought dynamism in reporting events targeted at the so-called English readership. Circulation began to shoot up. Other English newspapers faced existential crisis. It looked as though the HT would swallow all other small English dailies and might come up to compete with big mainstream Hindi newspapers of Bhopal.

It was the time when HT had grand plans to expand across India under leadership of India’s one of the best editors Vir Sanghvi. Vir had the carte blanche of his proprietor Shobhna Bhartiya. Bhopal had the desk for HT’s Raipur and Nagpur editions too.

Bhopal was envisioned as the hub of Central India. But this dream was too grand to last.

I’m no media pundit and you didn’t need to be one to see that HT’s downfall began primarily due to poverty of English language. The reader, who lapped up the paper, by and by, realized that the reporters did not have much of journalistic tricks up their sleeves to impress him any more. They had run out of good story ideas soon enough. More importantly, they had lost the zeal to take initiative. Three- year contractual system spawned a killing complacency. Job security made them both insolent and slothful to a great extent. Money, of course, was a big factor.  

The reader also sensed that the desk lacked requisite professional acumen to pad up, forget polish and embellish stories. The paper as a product did not seem attractive any more. Its circulation stagnated.

Since enough advertisers couldn’t be wooed to keep the economics of rising circulation on the positive side, the Bhopal edition started fading in the HT’s grand scheme of things in the headquarters.

Raipur edition became the first casualty. It was wound up and whatever team stayed back was shifted to Bhopal. Nagpur edition followed suit.

It became more than apparent that the Bhopal is a neglected child for the Delhi management. Those at the helm of affairs in Bhopal did not do much to dispel this disillusion in Delhi and despondency in Bhopal.

I am deliberately not naming the individuals whose active or passive contributions brought the paper to a sorry pass. Two developments in quick succession dealt a severe blow to the paper. First HT’s general manager Mr Fahmi resigned , paving way for downgrading the unit head’s post to that of DGM. Not too long after that Askari Zaidi quit.

Zaidi with all his laidback attitude had the ability to get things going at Delhi end. Fahmi’s successor was an unmitigated disaster.

He had cut his marketing teeth in Nav Bharat as a junior errand boy of the owner and never grew up. His mentality didn’t grow out of a Mufassil paper’s salesman.   

In order to show profit in the edition, he drastically cut overhead expenditures and also strived hard to ensure that the staff are underpaid. He succeeded in the plan. In fact, he brazenly boasted about the plan, much to the discomfiture of the staffers.

The HT did come in profit on papers at the expense of the staffers. This has had disastrous impact on the morale of the team though.

Zaidi’s exit paved the way for an upstart racketeer’s entry as successor three months later in 2007. Mercifully, the successor did not last for more than three months, thanks largely to vocal protests by the staffers. (Will write a separate blog on this interesting episode) .Then another editor came. His arrival raised high hopes. But before too long, the HT men and women came to realise that they had shouted out a tweedledum to be replaced by tweedledee.

The paper started nose-diving fast both in terms of credibility and quality. By the time the tweedledee exited, vast damage had been done to not only the paper but also to English journalism as a whole, for the HT had held high hopes.      

When the paper got off, it was the highest paymaster in Bhopal. Ten years down the line, it lagged far behind other newspapers on this count.

This is a general outline of the paper’s rise and fall. If I give insider account of what went wrong, picture will be more realistic and clearer. But this will be unethical. I have had good and bad times in the HT. And I have grown well past the time. Good luck and good wishes to all my former colleagues

Weak foundation of English journalism in MP ( 2)

Weak foundation of English journalism in MP ( 2)  

In the previous blog I briefly attempted to put across the point as to how weak foundation put paid to future of English journalism in MP. I am picking up the thread where I left.

By eighties, Hindi newspapers had started transforming themselves- both in content and form. Offset technology coupled with the advent of computer brought about huge technological revolution. Nai Dunia (Indore) and Bhaskar (Bhopal) were the frontrunners in adopting the new technologies. They also improved contents.

Nav Bharat, on the other hand, remained smugly slow in adapting itself to the changes sweeping the brave new world. But brand equity of Nav Bharat was still strong enough to keep it ahead of others, notwithstanding the paper’s slow progress.

At national level, the English newspapers were vying with one another in leveraging the technologies to increase their circulations.

In contrast, the two English newspapers –MP Chronicle and Hitavada—remained insular to the changes. They lost out fast to Hindi newspapers in production quality. They also deteriorated in contents.

VC Shukla’s fluctuating political fortunes had an adverse bearing on Hitavada. A paper founded by Servant of India Society of Gopal Krishna Gokhle was sold to an upstart Sardarji with dubious financial antecedents.

Paper’s downhill journey didn’t stop here. As the paper was in the doldrums, a feisty public relation department officer bought its title. A tragi-comic series of events ensued. The staff would neither quit nor work. As salaries were hard to come by, the PRO-turned- owner faced the humiliation of his house being gheraoed and filthy slogans being raised against him.

Many a time he was literally reduced to tears. His misadventure cost him dear both in reputation and in finance. The paper finally sunk without trace.

The MP Chronicle continued to live up to its notoriety of being a badly produced and howler-packed newspaper. Since Nav Bharat group’s flagship itself was on the decline, MP Chronicle, the poor cousin, could not have expected any kind attention from the owners. 

Meanwhile, Free Press Journal, Bombay, launched its edition from Indore in 1982. An apocryphal story about its launch from Indore suggests that the paper owed its birth in Indore to an injured ego of a rich man. The story goes like this.

A close relative of JK Karnani, owner of the Free Press Journal, had gone to meet the then Indore collector. He was made to wait for a long time while in the meantime owner of a big Hindi newspaper was respectfully ushered in the collector’s cabin.

The relative was stung by his perceived humiliation and thought that owning a newspaper is an easy way to win a collector’s respect. He persuaded Karnani to launch Free Press Journal from Indore.

I am not sure about veracity of the story but this much is sure that Free Press Journal in its initial days was much superior to the Hitavada and MP Chronicle. It had professional and qualified editors, though they too did not take much interest in improving language in the paper.

However, the Free Press Journal’s fearless and no-holds-barred presentation of reports endeared it to the readers who had not seen such courage in the older English papers. But the Free Press too started losing credibility, owing largely to its two Bihari managers’ obsession with hiring and firing journalists.  

In mid-eighties, Bhaskar group launched Daily Bhaskar. The launch was impressive and held promise for welcome change in the English journalism scenario.

It hired well respected N Rajan to edit the paper from Hitavada. Late Rajan sir was diligent, sharp and intellectually well –equipped. But, unfortunately, he had an insipid team. Some brilliant reporters like Bharat Desai joined and quit the paper but the deadwoods stayed put and stymied any prospects of the paper making a difference in the scenario.

N Rajan bore them along with unenviable patience. But how long could one man carry the paper on his frail shoulders? The paper started to fade.

After a while it was renamed National Mail. But the change proved only cosmetic. Dr Suresh Mehrotra succeeded N Rajan in 1993. Dr Sahab, with all his harmlessness and wide contacts, suffered from a basic flaw. Language was his Achilles Heel.

I and Mohammad Nasir joined the National Mail soon after Dr Mehrotra took over. The paper began to be noticed. We were euphoric. The management also got interested in promoting the paper.

However, the euphoria proved short-lived. Dr Sahab’s fundamental flaws in leading a team like a professional overwhelmed whatever fame or notoriety the paper had initially earned. I and Nasir got disillusioned.

He quit and I was sidelined. Mediocrity had the field day. In 1999, a few months after I quit National Mail, the paper was folded up.

In next blog, I will try to tell how the launch of first national daily –Hindustan Times-- rekindled hopes  of  putting Bhopal on national map of English journalism and how the hopes were dashed.

             

               

 

Weak foundation of English journalism in MP

As promised in previous blog, I am writing about editors of MP’s English newspapers. Unlike Hindi’s, English newspaper editors since inception of the state in 1956 can be counted on finger tips.

For over three decades, MP Chronicle and Hitavada (both published in Bhopal) largely catered to the English readership in the state capital. AD Mani in Hitavada and KP Narayanan in MP Chronicle were founder editors. They were considered illustrious too. I can’t comment on their glory because I have not worked under them. But this much I can say safely that they were not an institution unto themselves the way BG Varghese or M Chelapati Rao or Frank Moreas - to name just a few- have been.

I have seen the journalistic acumen and linguistic quality of the journalists who worked under AD Mani. They were  hardly inspiring, to put it mildly. Their training suggested  about the work of the editors they worked under. Name taking in this context makes no sense. Suffice would be to say that none of the English journalists in either Hitavada or MP Chronicle shone bright enough, at least till they served in the two papers.

Since Congress leader VC Shukla had the title of the paper, the Hitavada’s political inclination was not hard to understand. Its being anti-establishment was out of question when Congress behemoth ruled the country, including MP. The paper did not sell much, though its impact was more than those of HT or TOI today.

However, Hitavada with all its grand name and history was just okay. Its production quality was poor but that was not its minus point per se, for Hindi papers fared no better on this count either.    

KP Narayanan of MP Chronicle was, no doubt, a scholar of English and Sanskrit. He was, I learnt from Mayaram Surjan’s book , a gold medalist in English literature from Madras university.

Late Ram Gopal Maheshwari brought him to launch and head MP Chronicle. KP was well respected editor. He was allotted a big bungalow in Civil Lines in Bhopal. He was provided a car by the MP Chronicle management in the time when most journalists used to travel by bicycle.

But, the MP Chronicle hardly qualified as a good newspaper under him. Even during his time, the paper spawned a myriad jokes about its language. That said, it can not be gainsaid that MP Chronicle was pretty popular among Malayalee (and other south Indian, to some extent) population in the BHEL area, a legacy that endures even today, albeit weakened a great deal.  

KP Narayanan, I am given to understand, was keener to serve The Hindu of which he was a special correspondent in Bhopal than looking after the MP Chronicle. It is said that not only he was not averse to hearing jokes about the quality of MP Chronicle, he himself volunteered some of them.

None of the Narayanan’s junior colleagues is heard to have made a mark as a quality journalist. None, in fact, showed any interest in ridding the MP Chronicle of the ridicules the paper would incur for its substandard English. Perhaps KP Narayanan’s stature spared the MP Chronicle from being overshadowed by the Hindi Big Brother Nav Bharat for some years. But after his demise, the MP Chronicle (later Central Chronicle) turned out to be a poor carbon copy (literally) of Nav Bharat. The Nav Bharat reporters used to be asked (and are still asked I believe) to file stories for Central Chronicle as well.

After KP Narayanan, Shrawan Garg was the only editor whose credentials as such were beyond questioning. But Garg’s English was atrocious. ( I will talk of more abject poverty of English editors of MP later).

Afterwards, the owner assumed the editorship and let the paper rot, and the rot was never stemmed. My brief attempt in 1992-93 and then 200-2002 to make a semblance of readable English in the paper proved a lonely furrow in the long sand dunes.                           

So, it is evident that very foundation of English journalism has been weak in MP. How could one expect a miracle?

At the rate English literacy has increased since its formation in 1956, Madhya Pradesh should have had combined circulation of English newspapers in Lakhs. The last 58 years saw rapid proliferation of English medium schools and colleges. The state’s main centres Bhopal, Indore, Jabalpur and Gwalior have emerged as significant education hubs in India.

English has far outstripped Hindi as medium of instruction at all level. Yet, the transformation in no way translated into growth of English newspapers. A state with over six crore population has combined circulation of all English newspapers (published in MP and out of MP) at around 1.2 lakh.

Compare this with Mumbai and Delhi and the stark plight of English journalism in Madhya Pradesh becomes all too evident. Delhi with population of 1.2 crore has over 25 lakh English papers being sold with HT and TOI accounting for nearly 75% of the total circulation. The population and English reader ratio in Mumbai is even higher.

The shockingly dismal scenario in MP raises two questions: one, why people, who can read English, are averse to subscribing newspapers in this language? Two, do the MP’s English newspapers lack attraction to entice potential readers? In my humble view, answer to both the questions is YES. More on this topic later.

 

Enemy of English

Enemy of English

If it were not for a personal tragedy, I would have rewarded the warrior-reporters for the sheer tenacity with which they have been waging relentless war against English in English newspapers. So intense is their hatred for the language they write their story in that they don’t even look at their own edited/ rewritten stories in the paper next morning. And they make no bones about the aversion to the edited stories. Secure in the belief that they can easily get away with distorting the language any which way they can, reporters seem to take pride in their vicarious freedom struggle against English a good 65 years after the British quit India.

My age is possibly the only saving grace, otherwise I would have been a frequent object of open ridicule of the reporters for trying to serve the colonialists by rewriting their copies, an effort they believe is waste of time.

However, their valued opinions expressed behind my back about my love’s labour lost some times ricochet on my unsuspecting ears. Earlier, I used to be pained by such irreverence to my hard work. But, having done the futile job for over two decades, I’m inured to the sniggers.

Dard Ka Had Se Guzarana Hai Dawa Ho Jana.

I often wonder if my untimely baldness is linked to having to deal with reporters’ copies in the last two decades. Sure enough, I am fantastically athletic for my age, very agile. But the thinning hairline is a lone sour point.  I believe you don’t need to demonstrably (and physically)  tear your hair off to lose them fast. This might be an internal process, triggered by the everyday rage over rewriting reporters’ stories only to find they don’t care about this all.  

If I recapitulate here what horrible howlers I confront, an epic-size description would be needed. Besides, differentiating one reporter from another would be a grave injustice to their class. There are reporters whose copies are better than others. But, the ability to treat the edited stories with utter disdain is a common point. Barring a few like P Naveen ( Times of India), Shams Ur Rehman Alavi ( Hindustan Times), Devbrat Ghose (HT) , Archana Khare ( TOI)  or Avinash Dutt Garg ( BBC) , I have come across very few reporters all through my long career who cared to learn from the edited copies. I’m tempted to believe that P Naveen’s remarkable rise in journalism is due to his ability and willingness to correct himself. Today, his most stories are nearly flawless, needing very little editing. A vast change from where he had begun a decade ago.   

Why I’m what I’m and why reporters are what they are? I have clear explanation for my incorrigibility. The reporters’ characteristic insouciance is also, to a great extent, explainable to me. The reporters class has the instinctive protection of semiliterate editors (in terms of English language) that unfortunately we have had in English papers in MP. Late N Rajan, in my life, was an honourable exception. Will write more about it later.