The seemingly innocuous question was casually thrown my way by a bespectacled, mousy-looking lady seated next to me in an obscenely-packed Haryana Roadways monstrosity.
The loud utterance of five suitably punctuated English words in a local bus were enough to draw curious glances from at least 30 pair of eyes and an equal number of ears, the owners of which were precariously positioned in various stages of "bus posture." (sitting, standing, leaning, clutching, hanging and unmentionables).
"Oh, I am a journalist." I almost mumbled, half fearing the unwanted attention from an additional 30 pair of eyes and ears, and half swelling in pride in the anticipation of an expected reaction. (On the lines of - 'Wow, must be challenging, no!' or 'Do you come on TV?')
But our lady was certainly not one of those who would tow the 'expected' line.
She frowned, sniffed and pulled a face - for a half-a-second I felt she would shriek her lungs out - and said, "A what? Journalist, did you say?"
"Yeah. Why?" I was certainly quite annoyed with her wanton display of inconsiderate expressions. "Do you not quite understand what a journalist is?"
"Oh yes. I am quite familiar with the breed and have met quite a few specimens," she said in a supremely condescending tone.
Breed? Specimens? Did she think that "journalist" was some kind of canine or feline species or a preserved sample, bottled and kept in biology labs?
"You don't seem to be particularly impressed by or interested in journalism, I gather," I asked, with a forced smile plastered on my tired face.
"Yeah, well, I am neither impressed nor interested in journalists. Though journalism fascinates me with its immense possibilities. What type of a journalist are you?"
Type? Okay, this was not flattering.
"I am on the Web desk of news channel CNN-IBN, essentially involved with the daily news wheel," I said, wondering if jargon like 'Web desk' and 'news wheel' would intimidate her enough into considering journalism an "impressive" enough profession.
Far from it.
"Oh yes, IBN. Rajdeep Sardesai and Ashutosh isn't it? So Web desk would mean you are essentially the 'English' journalist, right? Because, as far as I know, none of the Hindi news channels have Hindi news portals," she said, taking me by surprise.
Am I an "English" journalist? And whatever the hell "English" meant. "Yes, ibnlive.com is CNN-IBN's website and obviously in English. But we do push a lot of our Hindi channel's content too. And what do you mean by 'English' journalist? A journalist is a journalist as long as he is honest to his profession. I hope you do understand the immense power of media," I asked.
"Ah! Yes. And little Ms Journalist, I too hope that you have heard of the phrase 'Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely'. So if media is powerful, it's immensely corruptible too, no? And as far language is concerned, I am sure you will agree that vernacular press catches the popular imagination much faster than the elite English media," her last line came out in a single, hurried breath.
Take a deep breath, count till five...easy. "I agree that there are linguistic limitations with English when it comes to access, and understandably so in a diverse country like India. But I don't quite understand your allegation of the English media being elitist? Do you not relate to English news, as a viewer or are you one of those who suffers from a colonial complex?" I was losing my cool now.
"No. Anyway let the language bit be. See, as I said that the immense possibilities of journalism excite me. But also what annoys me is the selective coverage given to certain issues. Why is it that Justice for Jessica becomes the obsession with media? Is Priyadarshini Mattoo India's only rape victim?" she asked, cleverly bypassing the language argument and taking the conversation to the oft-debated media issue.
"Look, you need to have a balanced view here. Fine, Mattoo case is a cynosure of media attention because it IS undeniably a high-profile case. The cop's son almost got away and had it not been for a sustained media campaign, it would really have been a travesty of justice. And what has language got to do with it anyway? It got an equal Hindi press too," I said, with all conviction.
"Ah! What a pointless argument," she sighed, adding, "Isn't there a limit to the so-called media activism as well? And shouldn't it be an all-encompassing campaign, not just limited to metros? Chalo, let's come to a less controversial topic. What about Prince? Why was it that Hindi news channels made an epic out of it and English channels consciously stayed away?" she asked.
Boy, who was she? The woman was obviously an avid news consumer and actually gave it all a thought. I cleared my throat and continued, "Prince was one news moment that belonged to the Hindi press. It was exciting, it made an almost voyeuristic connect with people and was reality television at its best (or worst?). English media wouldn't have been able to capture the moment in its elements due to language constraints and the sheer Hindi-ity of the issue."
"There you see, we are back to square one. Did I not say that there is a great language divide? I hope you now understand what "English" journalist means. Anyhow, you do not have to feel guilty about not being able to sufficiently counter my arguments. After all, you are just a kid. I am sure you one day when you will head your own channel, you will be able to answer them. I am just telling you the opinion of the general public about the media. I know it's great to have a strong press, but do accept the weaknesses too. It really does no harm. It was great meeting you, young mind."
With these first and last kind words of our short acquaintance, she pulled herself together, smiled, gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder and got up to leave.
As she negotiated her way through the crowded aisle, I was gripped by a strong urge to stop her, ask her name, her details. But it was just a bit too late. She had successfully managed to make her way through the sweaty queue and was out in an instant, leaving behind an impressive trail of unanswered questions.
At this point, I remembered the imaginative tagline of our channel when we launched - "Question Everything".
All right, will do. But will someone answer the questions too? About the AuthorDivisha Gupta ...Read Morefirst published:November 17, 2006, 08:48 ISTlast updated:November 17, 2006, 08:48 IST
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"So, what do you do?" Hence began one of the most consequential conversations I have had in the recent past.
The seemingly innocuous question was casually thrown my way by a bespectacled, mousy-looking lady seated next to me in an obscenely-packed Haryana Roadways monstrosity.
The loud utterance of five suitably punctuated English words in a local bus were enough to draw curious glances from at least 30 pair of eyes and an equal number of ears, the owners of which were precariously positioned in various stages of "bus posture." (sitting, standing, leaning, clutching, hanging and unmentionables).
"Oh, I am a journalist." I almost mumbled, half fearing the unwanted attention from an additional 30 pair of eyes and ears, and half swelling in pride in the anticipation of an expected reaction. (On the lines of - 'Wow, must be challenging, no!' or 'Do you come on TV?')
But our lady was certainly not one of those who would tow the 'expected' line.
She frowned, sniffed and pulled a face - for a half-a-second I felt she would shriek her lungs out - and said, "A what? Journalist, did you say?"
"Yeah. Why?" I was certainly quite annoyed with her wanton display of inconsiderate expressions. "Do you not quite understand what a journalist is?"
"Oh yes. I am quite familiar with the breed and have met quite a few specimens," she said in a supremely condescending tone.
Breed? Specimens? Did she think that "journalist" was some kind of canine or feline species or a preserved sample, bottled and kept in biology labs?
"You don't seem to be particularly impressed by or interested in journalism, I gather," I asked, with a forced smile plastered on my tired face.
"Yeah, well, I am neither impressed nor interested in journalists. Though journalism fascinates me with its immense possibilities. What type of a journalist are you?"
Type? Okay, this was not flattering.
"I am on the Web desk of news channel CNN-IBN, essentially involved with the daily news wheel," I said, wondering if jargon like 'Web desk' and 'news wheel' would intimidate her enough into considering journalism an "impressive" enough profession.
Far from it.
"Oh yes, IBN. Rajdeep Sardesai and Ashutosh isn't it? So Web desk would mean you are essentially the 'English' journalist, right? Because, as far as I know, none of the Hindi news channels have Hindi news portals," she said, taking me by surprise.
Am I an "English" journalist? And whatever the hell "English" meant. "Yes, ibnlive.com is CNN-IBN's website and obviously in English. But we do push a lot of our Hindi channel's content too. And what do you mean by 'English' journalist? A journalist is a journalist as long as he is honest to his profession. I hope you do understand the immense power of media," I asked.
"Ah! Yes. And little Ms Journalist, I too hope that you have heard of the phrase 'Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely'. So if media is powerful, it's immensely corruptible too, no? And as far language is concerned, I am sure you will agree that vernacular press catches the popular imagination much faster than the elite English media," her last line came out in a single, hurried breath.
Take a deep breath, count till five...easy. "I agree that there are linguistic limitations with English when it comes to access, and understandably so in a diverse country like India. But I don't quite understand your allegation of the English media being elitist? Do you not relate to English news, as a viewer or are you one of those who suffers from a colonial complex?" I was losing my cool now.
"No. Anyway let the language bit be. See, as I said that the immense possibilities of journalism excite me. But also what annoys me is the selective coverage given to certain issues. Why is it that Justice for Jessica becomes the obsession with media? Is Priyadarshini Mattoo India's only rape victim?" she asked, cleverly bypassing the language argument and taking the conversation to the oft-debated media issue.
"Look, you need to have a balanced view here. Fine, Mattoo case is a cynosure of media attention because it IS undeniably a high-profile case. The cop's son almost got away and had it not been for a sustained media campaign, it would really have been a travesty of justice. And what has language got to do with it anyway? It got an equal Hindi press too," I said, with all conviction.
"Ah! What a pointless argument," she sighed, adding, "Isn't there a limit to the so-called media activism as well? And shouldn't it be an all-encompassing campaign, not just limited to metros? Chalo, let's come to a less controversial topic. What about Prince? Why was it that Hindi news channels made an epic out of it and English channels consciously stayed away?" she asked.
Boy, who was she? The woman was obviously an avid news consumer and actually gave it all a thought. I cleared my throat and continued, "Prince was one news moment that belonged to the Hindi press. It was exciting, it made an almost voyeuristic connect with people and was reality television at its best (or worst?). English media wouldn't have been able to capture the moment in its elements due to language constraints and the sheer Hindi-ity of the issue."
"There you see, we are back to square one. Did I not say that there is a great language divide? I hope you now understand what "English" journalist means. Anyhow, you do not have to feel guilty about not being able to sufficiently counter my arguments. After all, you are just a kid. I am sure you one day when you will head your own channel, you will be able to answer them. I am just telling you the opinion of the general public about the media. I know it's great to have a strong press, but do accept the weaknesses too. It really does no harm. It was great meeting you, young mind."
With these first and last kind words of our short acquaintance, she pulled herself together, smiled, gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder and got up to leave.
As she negotiated her way through the crowded aisle, I was gripped by a strong urge to stop her, ask her name, her details. But it was just a bit too late. She had successfully managed to make her way through the sweaty queue and was out in an instant, leaving behind an impressive trail of unanswered questions.
At this point, I remembered the imaginative tagline of our channel when we launched - "Question Everything".
All right, will do. But will someone answer the questions too?
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