In Her Words - Eastern Mirror
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Op-Ed

In Her Words

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By EMN Updated: Apr 06, 2014 1:06 am

In this column we will be featuring the writings by award winning women journalists in India found in the collection of the book ‘Making News Breaking News Her Way. It is a publication by Tranquebar Press in association with Media Foundation, New Delhi which instituted the annual Chameli Devi Jain Award for an Outstanding Women Mediaperson in 1980.

Shubha Singh

From telegram to twitter: A semi-circle 

[dropcap]F[/dropcap]rom Telex to Twitter’ -the theme of a recent seminar on journalism brought to mind that my own journey through journalism could be encompassed in the expression -’From Telegram to Twitter’. Till the mid-1980s, whenever I travelled out of the state capital, I had to keep a lookout for the district telegraph office for that was the link to my newspaper. It meant having the day’s story neatly typed and ready to be handed in at the telegraph office after duly noting down the number of words in sets of fifty.
Most district telegraph offices had a decrepit office typewriter languishing on a rickety table in a dusty comer that was available for journalists to type their ‘despatches’, It was advisable to carry one’s own sheaf of typing and carbon paper as these were not to be found after office hours. The typewriter too, had often been put to use by sundry persons seeking to learn to type by bashing on its keys. I was saved the pains of assaulting the old keys once I became the proud possessor of a portable Olivetti -the sign of a true journalist in days gone by.By the rnid-1980s, the first signs of the telecom revolution were visible when teleprinter machines made their appearance at the larger telegraph offices. The new machines were housed in a separate room with their own personal teleprinter operator in attendance. A regular stream of visitors would troop in to gaze in awe at the new machine. But technology moves at a fast pace and it did not take long for the teleprinter to be replaced by the fax machine. By 1988, the first computers had made their appearance in The Telegraph newspaper where I worked. Emails, blogs, instant twittering took over quite painlessly some years down the road.
I came to journalism almost by default. I had long harboured a vague desire to write fiction -a consequence of years of voracious reading. But it was an inchoate desire that did not go beyond penning a couple of short stories. It was chance that set me on the path of journalism. While waiting for my exam results, I helped out at an industrial exhibition where I was asked to write a report on -the daily activities. The unexpected appreciation that I received for the report made me realise that I could write effortlessly in a simple, lucid style. It started me on the freelancing route, writing occasional feature articles for magazines and newspapers while I taught and worked as a nutritionist. By the early 1980s I had discovered my true vocation.
When I joined The Telegraph as its state correspondent in Hyderabad, a latent interest made it easy to turn to reporting on politics. But a woman’s place was on the feature pages or the city pages and any attempt to enter political reporting was frowned upon or treated with disdain. It was not easy to be the sole woman correspondent in town, especially as reporting for an outstation newspaper involved considerable networking with other journalists. I would often find myself the sole occupant in a row of chairs at a press conference, as it was considered inappropriate in a conservative town like Hyderabad for men to sit next to women even in a professional setting. Then, in 1982, a tidal wave struck Andhra Pradesh politics when the superstar of the Telugu film world, N T Rama Rao decided to enter politics. It also swept me onto a firm anchorage in political reporting.
Revered for his portrayal of Hindu religious figures, NTR, as he was popularly known, galvanised Andhra politics with his histrionics and drew enormous crowds to his rallies. He inspired the hordes of adoring and reverential fans with his slogan of ‘Telugu atmagauravam’ (Telugu self-respect) that had been battered by an uncaring Congress leadership. The big debate in political circles was whether the crowds would translate into votes on polling day. Veteran reporters of the Andhra scene scoffed at naive journalists who were impressed by the surging film crowds. I reported what I saw and was slowly convinced that NTR was changing the political discourse in Andhra Pradesh.
Kewal Verma, an astute commentator on Indian politics and economy, came down from the Delhi office for the last few days of campaigning. Kewal and I met senior politicians and watched a few rallies. Most of the national newspapers as well as some Telugu papers had dismissed NTR as a frivolous interlude in politics. Kewal Sahib asked my opinion. I replied, ‘NTR is winning.’ The next morning, The Telegraph unequivocally stated that NTR would sweep the polls. We were out on a limb, but my agony ended three days later when NTR won the elections.
A few years later NTR’s charisma had waned. Hyderabad was rife with rumours that he was practising some arcane tantric rituals, dressed in a sari, using dead bodies at his cottage some twenty-five kilometres out of Hyderabad. Intrepid journalists planned to stake out the city morgue to see if a hearse left the morgue in the night for an unknown destination. Finally, NTR invited journalists to a tea party at his cottage. He served a sumptuous meal and then showed the scribes around the cottage. He flung open the door of a room next to his puja room and ushered me in, saying, ‘Look, amma, no corpses!’ The crowd of reporters returned to I Hyderabad bemoaning that there was no story to write. The next day, The Telegraph carried an anchor story with the headline: ‘Look, Amma, No Corpses.’
As a state correspondent, I wrote on all kinds of issues. When I moved to The Telegraph’s New Delhi bureau in 1987, a new element got added to my reportage. The beats I was allotted were external affairs and Opposition parties. Foreign affair was traditionally the domain of the seniormost special correspondents in the bureau. I was the juniormost on the beat and a woman to boot and was roundly ignored by the exalted beings. Fortunately, The Telegraph and later The Pioneer, gave ample space for foreign affairs on its pages and I was encouraged to go beyond merely reporting official briefings. It helped to break through the invisible barriers that excluded the greenhorn newcomer, and be recognised as a serious writer on foreign affairs. I was sometimes asked to pitch in at the last minute with an analytical piece for the op-ed page – that was the genesis of the regular column on foreign affairs I was given later. And there was a lot to write about!
The 1990s were a period of change -they marked the end of the Cold War and the Soviet Union, and the advent of globalisation. India was forced to make substantial changes in its foreign policy in line with these events. Becoming a declared nuclear weapons state meant a reworking of India’s ties with the major powers, while economic reforms and a fast-growing economy changed India’s image in the world. From once concentrating mainly on political ties, foreign policy expanded to encompass economic and commercial relations, energy, security, international health issues and lately environment. Foreign policy also got linked with domestic politics as the government negotiated the Civilian Nuclear Energy Cooperation Agreement with the US.
Writing on foreign affairs gave me the opportunity to get a ringside view of historic events as they unfolded. Atal Bihari Vajpayee’s grand gesture of friendship towards Pakistan –the inaugural New Delhi-Lahore bus service–unfortunately floundered on the rock of the Kargil conflict. But Nelson Mandela’s inauguration was a defining moment in South Africa’s history.
I travelled to South Africa as part of then Vice President K R Narayanan’s press party and found myself in a vantage position to witness the change taking place. Sitting on a grassy knoll right next to the inaugural dais, I felt the mood lighten suddenly as two stout black women handed out flags of the new republic to the sprinkling of slightly apprehensive white South Africans present. A moment later the crowd was calling out ‘Madiga’ (Mandela’s name) in unison and then they began singing joyful hymns to herald the new South Africa.
The Lahore bus yatra was an occasion where the range of dichotomies in the India-Pakistan relationship was starkly visible. Vajpayee boarded the bus at Amritsar with his official delegation. The Wagah/ Attari border was decked out like a wedding panda! and a goodly crowd had come to watch the proceedings. The atmosphere was charged with emotion; the Pakistani Rangers and the Indian Border Security Force bands played alternately in good-humoured competition as people on both sides of the divide danced to the music. The first signs of the underlying tensions surfaced when a smartly turned-out police officer, clearly upset at the cross-border bonhomie, directed the Pakistani Rangers’ band to drown out the BSF band. The cacophony continued till someone put on Indian film music on the loudspeaker.
Vajpayee and Nawaz Sharif greeted each other and both made short speeches. There was a loud cry of recognition when Dev Anand stepped out of the bus and gave his characteristic wave. After the two leaders left in a helicopter, the young police officer lost his starchiness and went up to Dev Anand. He introduced himself as a ‘Ravian’, an alumnus of the prestigious Government College, Lahore, as was Dev Anand. He stood beaming as he got himself photographed with the star.
Lahore was a mix of emotions. Vajpayee’s impassioned speech at the Governor’s House was widely appreciated even as Jamaat-e-Islami supporters held a noisy demonstration at the gate. Indian journalists swapped stories about their experiences; most of them were feted and welcomed by the residents of Lahore. One colleague, who asked a Pakistani woman for directions, was invited home by her. But there was an embarrassing moment when the woman’s teenage daughter refused to go out for dinner with them -she was not willing to eat with the ‘enemy’, as she put it. That is the way of India-Pakistan relations -bonhomie and warmth laced with hostility.
The Chameli DeviJain Award in 1994, was in recognition of my reporting on foreign affairs. It was around that time that I started a weekly column on foreign affairs, which I have continued to write through different newspapers even today. I was Senior Editor at The Pioneer when I quit the paper in January 2000, to concentrate on my writing. I began journalism as a freelancer and, as a columnist today, I once again have the freedom to write on any subject that interests me.
When one lives in an era of globalisation, where a sneeze on Wall Street sets stock markets tumbling globally and where prolonged drought in Russia raises international wheat prices, one has to keep track of developments around the world. I have been asked sometimes -how does one generate interest in the main event of the week, say a bloody revolution in a far-off region of Africa? Humanise the story and look for an Indian angle, I’d say. There are stories to be told around the world.
Journalism has changed over the years, and 24×7 television news has hastened the process, but the change has not always been for the good. India has trade and commercial ties with a large number of countries, and Indians have taken to travelling abroad to exotic and unfamiliar destinations. But the coverage of foreign affairs in the Indian media has become restricted to ties with Pakistan, the US and China. Other countries are considered dull and boring and seldom find mention unless for the bizarre event or the amusing trivia. Globalisation has meant that most newspapers have a World News page, but a large part of it is filled with articles from foreign newspapers and news agencies, written from a Western perspective, leavened with titbits about celebrities and Hollywood stars.
Relations with neighbours move at a glacial pace, but television reduces complex issues to stark black-and-white, yes/no issues that take on strong jingoistic overtones. However, national interest does not lie in taking a loud, chauvinistic tone. Governments in Beijing, Islamabad and Delhi, have complained that the intense media coverage often affects diplomatic relations.
As a journalist, I have always believed it is my job to observe and inform, to interpret and analyse for the reader, not to insert my own opinions and inclinations, except when I write an opinion piece. If that was what I wanted to do, I would have chosen a different avocation. I am basically an optimist and believe that trends do change. I expect that it will take time, and frenetic television coverage and acrimonious debates will eventually give way to informed reportage and reasoned discourse.
Shubha Singh is a columnist and author. She began her career in journalism as a freelancer, and then worked as state correspondent, special correspondent and senior editor in two newspapers, The Telegraph and me The Pioneer. Though she has been writing a weekly column on foreign affairs for almost two decades, she enjoys writing on diverse subjects, from politics to travel and food. She has written three books on me Indian diaspora titled Fiji: A Precarious Coalition (Har- Anand, 2001), Overseas Indians -The Global Family (Shipra Publications, 2005) andJoumey of Discovery: Ancestral Searches in India (Shipra Publications, 2012). Shubha Singh won me Chameli DeviJain Award in 1994.

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By EMN Updated: Apr 06, 2014 1:06:04 am
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