BLOG - Krishna Vattam

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Media insensitivity

We, journalists, some times, betray our darker side - insensitivity in our approach to news-gathering.
"What's the lead for the day, sir", Ms Gayithri asked;
"Still there is time to think of a lead," I said, "one more hour".
Soon after Gayithri left my chamber, Guruprasad came in to say, "Sir, ETV Showed Kumaraswamy campaign in Ramanagara".
"What else you expect from him, other than going round the constituency; how does it make news" I asked.
He left, only to return, after watching some more ETV - "Sir, 40 people have been admitted in hospital, following vomitting".
"We have a lead", I said. Gayithri nodded her head; promptly sent for Aruna and instructed him to get details from the hospital; and tell Yadav (our photographer) to get a picture - "Tell him we need it for the lead, the pictures must be in by noon".
Ganapathi took notes from Aruna and wrote the lead. And as we were about send the page for 'pasting' One PM news mentioned 80 as the number of those admitted in the hospital. We changed the headline, Higher figure raises news value of a story.

After the 'pastings' were sent for printing, I reflected the run of events ; on my attitude to human life, sufferings of others, accidents and deaths. Journalists are given to adopting such clinical attitude to human tragedy , in their eagerness to get a good lead. I wonder if we react the same way, if the victims included our kith and kin.
I hasten to add that I do not mean that we should not discharge our duty as newspersons. What I mean is, in our approach to news gathering, we ought to think beyond the number of casualities, to convey in our reporting a sense of fellow-feeling. So that readers do not get a wrong image of the media fraternity.

The burden of this post is that media has responsibility to conduct itself in a humane way while reporting human tragedy. Accidents happen and they cannot go unreported, but an enlightened media can refrain from hying it for a lead story, unmindful of its impact on the victims, their kin and others affected by the tragedy.

I remember having read about a western journalist who, seeing a vulture attacking an emaciated child, preferred to take pictures of the sight rather than shoe away the attacker. Had he intervened as normal humans do in such circumstances, the journalist would have missed a Page One picture.
We have a lesson to learn from this.The poet in Mr M Veerappa Moily, former Karnataka chief Minister, was so disturbed on reading the report on the vulture and the child that he poured out his anguish in a poem.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

Rupee value of happiness

It may be a coincidence that the post in Ms Indrani’s blog and an article in The New York Times dealt with the same theme - relationship between money and happiness - although the approach of both writers was different. Ms Indrani’s post is based on a statement made by Mr Andy Goh , Singapore’s happiest person , who says , that for achieving the status of happiness “ we need to train our mind a bit”. Mr David Leonhardt's NYT piece is based on two studies, done over a span of 34 years between them.
The study by Pennsylvania University economist, Richard Easterlin , which gained the status of a theory known as Easterlin Paradox, was published in 1974, in which he argued that the economic growth did not necessarily lead to greater satisfaction. This study as such was made on the opinion sought from Japanese, who in the aftermath of Second World War witnessed one of the greatest booms the world had even known. In the decades , from 1950 to 1970, the per capita output grew more than seven fold. Japan re-invented itself, from a war-torn country into one of the richest nations on earth. Yet, the economist argued the Japanese citizens did not seem to become any more satisfied with their lives.
In April this year , two young economists attached to Brookings Institution in Washington, rebutted the argument of Easterlin. They averred that money indeed tends to bring happiness, even if it does not guarantee it.. Citing the findings of the Gallop poll around the world they come to conclusion that life satisfaction is the highest in the richest country. Writer David Leonhardt held that the fact remains that economic growth does not just make countries richer in superficially materialistic ways . Having gone through the post of Ms Indrani and the NYT article , I am inclined to feel that the Westerners have a penchent for surveys and gallop poll, and consider these findings as the belief and conviction of the people at large.
The saints and seers of India had dealt with these questions centuries ago. Saint Composer Thyagaraja asks Nidhi Chala Sukamo, Devuni Sannidhi Chala Sukumo (Does wealth give one happiness and satisfaction or being in your presence gives happiness). The sense of hapiness was based on spiritual well being.
I remember what my friend and leading Mysore hotelier, Mr P V .Giri, once said observing the way in which construction workers lived and worked. In a moving lorry laden with “jalli” (gravel), Mr Giri observed, a coolie could have sound sleep, unmindful of the sharp edges of the gravel. Whereas the affluent in their cosy beds in AC Rooms, had to induce sleep with pills.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

A Reddy Story

Even in death it is politics of the day that governs the manner in which a political leader is remembered. He may have held an exalted position at the time of death, but his politics needs to be right, for him to get a fitting memorial. What mattered was the political lineage, the clan to which he belonged, or his relationship with the ruling clique of the day.

A leader whose loyalty was suspect got marginalized. This seems to have been the case with Mr Neelam Sanjiva Reddy. He was A P chief minister twice, AICC president, Lok Sabha Speaker, and the President. Yet Mr Reddy, in death, didn’t get the recognition he deserved from the ruling establishment of the day.

A report in the New Indian Express (Bangalore Edition dated April 12) speaks of a non-descript tomb at Kalapalli graveyard (about two kms from Fraser town Police Station , Bangalore) that carries a plastic signboard, reading ‘President Neelam Sanjiva Reddy’. The media report mentioned that Reddy's resting place had no maintenance budget and was being treated by the authorities as just another tomb.

Those familiar with politics in 1960s or 70s, can recall how Mr Reddy, the then AICC chief, had fallen out of grace with Mrs Indira Gandhi. The 1969 split in the Congress constituted a watershed in Indian Politics; it led to the rise of Mrs Gandhi in power on the strength of her garibi hatao slogan. Masses were mesmerized by her charisma. The Party split into Congress (Organisation), led by Mr S Nijalingappa, and the other Congress (Ruling) led by Prime Minister Mrs Gandhi. Mr Reddy became a suspect in the eyes of Mrs Gandhi, because of his leanings towards Congress(O).

Mrs Gandhi, who had, in fact, proposed his name for the post of President of India, went back on her word, and invoked, what she termed, a ”conscience vote”. She brought forward the then Vice President V V Giri and got him elected as the President. However, Mr Reddy became the sixth President with the support of Janata Party which came to power after Mrs Gandhi lost it in the wake of the Emergency.

On retirement Mr Reddy settled in Bangalore in a bungalow allotted by the State Government. He died at the age of 83 and was laid to rest in Kalpalli graveyard. Neither the State nor the Centre bothered to build any memorial till 2002. As JD(U) General Secretary N S Ravi put it, “it is ironic that the former President was wronged in death. JD(S) supremo H D Deve Gowda was the Prime Minister when Reddy died. We had to run from pillar to post to get sanction from S M Krishna Government to build a tomb.’

The IE reports says the Bangalore Mahanagara Palike had sanctioned Rs 10 lakhs for the tomb in 2002 and the officials took four years to set a stone slab and fence the area. “By no stretch of imagination could the work have cost Rs 10 lakhs” says Mr Ravi.

Speaking of raising a memorial I remember what Mr Devaraj Urs had said in this context. Devaraj Urs, who had served as Chief Minister of Karnataka for two terms, was down-to-earth in his comments; and, like Rajaji, his forte was a solid grounding in Ramayana and Mahabaratha . And unlike the former, Mr Urs relished his “Royal Salute” and was seen occasionally with a pipe in his mouth - an aristocrat with a philosophical bent of mind.

As a reporter of Deccan Herald, I had opportunity to observe Mr Urs from close quarters. Once on a visit to his native village in Periyapatna taluk of Mysore District, he was accorded a grand reception by members of the Urs community; they performed pada puja , in true Hindu tradition. He was served his favourite ragi mudde on a silver plate.

Mr D V Urs, the then Vice-chancellor of Mysore University, in a welcome address referred to Mr Devaraj Urs’ visit as historic and then spoke of a plan to install an edict at the venue, with an inscription describing the visit of Mr Devaraj Urs to the village.

The philosopher in Mr Urs responded by quoting Purandaradasa. This gem of a composition in effect speaks about the futility of such inscriptions. With the generations of rulers who haughtily claimed vast assets as their own, go with empty hands when once they are dead, and even their bodies are brought out of their dwellings they claimed as their own. Mr Urs wiping tears with a handkerchief said, what was remembered was one’s good work.

Sunday, April 06, 2008

On a search mission in Karanji

I went to the zoo the other day on a search mission; to locate a mango I had planted by the Karanji Lake some 22 years back. The occasion then was a tree-planting programme the Karnataka Zoo Authority had organized. And I was invited to plant a sapling, along with the then chairman and divisional commissioner Puranik and the zoo executive director C D Krishne Gowda.

While the others planted whatever sapling that was handed down to them by zoo officials, I was choosy about mango. It was in search of this mango that I made the recent trip to the zoo. It was a FORT-Mysore colleague GVK who talked me into looking for the tree I had planted so long ago. It would make a great post for our blog, he said. He even offered to come with me, and help me take a photo of my mango at the zoo. I chose to go on my own,just in case it turned out to be a dry run.

First I had to make sure if the tree was there.I informed my old friend, zoo manager Shivanna, about my desire to locate my ‘sapling’. He welcomed the idea, but he was not sure if it had survived. A pleasant surprise awaited us when we reached the spot. What I had planted has grown to be a big tree, conspicuous in the groove for its spread; its long branches overshadowed the other trees. I stood there gazing at my tree in sheer joy. As I shared my thoughts an accompanying Karanji official Nagaraj mentioned that the tree yielded delicious badami. He added that they do not pluck the mangoes,but leave them on the tree for birds and monkeys. A noble idea.

As I fixed my gaze on the tree, my thoughts went back to school days when I had read Rabindranth Tagore’s Kabuliwala. The trader in the story, from Kabul, spent months away from home travelling in India to sell dates. The Kabuliwala , on his visits to Calcutta came in contact with a “little girl”...after years of absence (in jail) he returned, to be overwhelmed with emotions on seeing his 'little one' grown up as a beautiful woman. She reminded Kabuliwala of his own daughter back home, in Kabul. Well, I some such feelings at Karanji. Seeing my ‘sapling’, after over two decades, reminded me of the grown up woman in the story.

I had not visited Karanji in a long while. Besides it had not occurred to me to look for my tree till now. Those days, when we held our monthly zoo authority meetings on the lakeside there was not as much of tree cover as we find today. We must thank the zoo authority and its employees for the transformation. The whole environ is serene. For book lovers and bird-watchers it is an ideal spot. What with well laid out granite benches facing the lake, and coffee available at kiosk, the setting is fantastic, simply.

As I stood in front of the mango tree I felt humble. Who am I to claim it as my tree, merely because I had planted it. The credit must truly go to the gardeners and others at the lake who looked after it.Above all it is the Mother Nature that nourished, with maternal care, the sapling as it grew into a tree. I couldn’t help folding my hands in gratitude to such Nature’s creation before heading home.

Cross-posted in FORT-Mysore, a tree-lovers blog.