Pride, party and pice

Reading Kuldip Nayar’s autobiography – Beyond the Lines (Roli Books) now.  Nayar is the sort of person – even whose best friends would find it difficult to understand the reasons for his rise to such fame.  His writing style is lackluster. He doesn't have the intellectual depth of say – B G Verghese, erudition of Sham Lal or even Khushwant Singh’s knowledge of history. His gossipy tidbits and juicy nuggets often appear as part conjecture and part concoction to be consumed with a large dollop of salt (he admits to having manufactured an 'interview' with Sheikh Abdullah, since the Sheikh had refused to say anything on record about the Emergency. His story of Narasimha Rao sitting at a Puja, while the Babri Masjid was being demolished is, at best, fantastic and his insinuations about foulplay in Shastri's death is plain grist for the rumor mill). He indulges in sweeping generalizations (Bengalis are “anti-centre” – we  are anti-everything!!), is an indefatigable namedropper and has deep personal prejudices (has something unkind to say about almost every one he has mentioned in the book and no qualms about getting even with his friends and contemporaries).  

To me – he was more of a reporter (than an editor or journalist) – who managed to position himself at the right time with the right people at the right place –   and obviously thrived on his ‘connections’ (including that of his in-laws, the Sachars. Old Congress stalwart Bhim Sen Sachar was his father-in-law and Justice Rajinder Sachar author of the famous Sachar Report is his ‘saala’). By his own account, he comes across as a bit of a 'political animal' too. He doesn't make any secret of trading in favours and takes pride in his purported back-room political dealings. He claims to have "helped" Lal Bahadur Shastri become PM ( Pg 262 -  why blame poor Barkha Dutt trying to put in a word for A Raja ?) Another reason for his success, perhaps, was that, he wrote for the lowest common denominator of the newspaper audience. For his time, he was relatively affluent too (house in plush Vasant Vihar). His book on the Emergency – 'The Judgment' – was an instant best-seller and riding on its popularity he was one of the first Indian journalists to syndicate his column (even before Khushwant Singh, I think). In short, he was an older edition of Shekhar Gupta, no wonder Gupta once referred to him as a “guru” (only to later axe his column from the Express).

Take it with these caveats and you might even enjoy this mildly salacious commentary on the history of post-independence India - seen with tinted (green not sepia) glasses and written with an obtusely slanted pen.  Though, I wish the editing of the book was a little more competent (habeas corpus is spelt as ‘habius corpus’ - pg 240) knowing that language isn't Nayar's strongest suit.

Is the Party over ?

Like every July 21^st, this year too Mamata brought Calcutta to a grinding halt with Trinamool’s annual show of strength - the “Shahid Divas” rally (Kolkata's pain in Party's gain). All arteries of the city – including the Howrah Bridge – were choked with over 5 lakh people pouring in from all over the state. In contrast, the CPIM had organized a rally  of nearly a million cadres on February 19^th , which was a picture of organization and discipline.  At yesterday’s meeting Mamata famously declared the Trinamool Congress’ decision to go it alone in the state, while still continuing to remain a part of the UPA at the Centre.

Mamata had clearly overplayed her cards on the Presidential Elections in opposing Pranab Mukherjee’s only to eat her own humble pie later on – after being ditched by her new found brother Mulayam.  She’s now stuck in an unenviable position where she can’t leave the UPA nor join the NDA – her so called ‘indispensability’ having been seriously compromised with the Samajwadi Party extending support to the UPA (without formally joining it, yet) and even Mayawati maintaining a neutral  - politically expedient- posture. It’s almost as if she’s begging to be kicked out of the house but Sonia is just extending her agony by not obliging.

Prior to this she faced the minor set-backs in the Municipality Polls (where of all Trinamool lost in Haldia) and the Singur case against Tata Motors.

Will these reverses sober her down a little? I think so. And, that might actually augur well for West Bengal as she is forced to focus on governance and development of the state. It's time to stop partying and start work.

Pice Hotel

Don’t know what’s the origin of the name “Pice Hotel” –  Siliguri is full of them.  ‘Kalpana’ is still the most famous but its quality has gone down in recent times I am told.  So on this trip, I was taken to Usha Hotel on Jalpai Mor. Lovely Mourola Maccher Jhol, Aad Maccher Jhaal and Shorshe Iilish. The Aad was really fresh and, I was told, comes from Katihar. The Iilsh is of Padma  smuggled across the border. Though very nice, the best of the season is yet to come.  

Next stop will be “Chalachal”  known for its Mangsho Bhaat.  A friend on Twitter (@deep_anchor) has recommended Jajabar Hotel on Teesta Bank in Jalpaiguri (specialty - Chitol). But, the place I am waiting to go is ‘Popular Hotel’ in Falakata, near Dhupguri – which by many accounts has the most outstanding ‘imported’ Iilish from Bangladesh.

P.S Another Twitter friend @filmichef thinks “Pice” has its etymological roots in Rice – as these were originally cheap “Bhaater Hotel”. Pice could also be a variation of paisa - writes @geffbeck - indicating you could get a meal for a few paisa here. Remember the adage 'one pice father - mother' ?  Or pice could also have come from piece - as you pay by the piece (usually fish). A number of my FB friends affirm the 'paisa' theory  ("ek poisha ye pet bhorti khabar"). 

Gorkhaland Express

Telengana Protestors

In a comment on one of my older blog posts  - the Siliguri Connection (click here to read) a correspondent wrote – that Siliguri should claim its status as a city-state like Chandigarh by the time Gorkhaland is formed (which – according to him or her is only a matter of time). My first reaction – probably emanating from my latent main-land arrogance and Bengali chauvinism - was to dismiss it as a flippant and tongue-in-cheek remark like many friends and readers of my blog are prone to (especially, when posting anonymously). But, then it got me thinking.

Maha - heartburns

Though I have a decent working knowledge of modern Indian history – as any average educated Indian – I have never quite fathomed the under-currents of sub-nationalism that seem to drive the demand for smaller states. I have read and heard – how the linguistic division of the states post independence was an artificial creation. Having lived in Maharashtra for a better part of my life – I have known about the  Marathi heartburn over the loss of Belgaum to Karnataka. But, frankly the extent of underlying emotions  arising out of denial of state identity didn’t quite register on me.  I always thought, it was the politicians jostling to create their own fiefdoms within a democratic set up.

With Kashmir weighing heavily upon our psyche, splintering of the 7 sisters of the North-east and Khalistan – at one time – looking close to the realms of possibility – we have somehow been conditioned to think of any demands for new states as signs of secessionism. We were inclined to put the original demand for Gorkhaland in the same bracket. The making of the 3 new small states of Uttarakhand, Chattisgarh and Jharkhand was also seen more as an exercise of political expediency.

teaching 'em to count

So – when Mayawati declared her intention to split UP into 4 smaller states, our initial reactions were understandably cynical. Certainly, it was a political masterstroke. As a Tweeple wit remarked – before Rahul Gandhi could come to terms with one UP, she created 4 – enough for him to lose count. But, deeper reflection would reveal greater sense beneath her apparently whimsical sleight of hand. After all, what does Uttar Pradesh mean – the inimitable sociologist Ashish Nandy asked in a TV debate. While naming the erstwhile Central provinces – Madhya Pradesh could be attributed to a simple lack of creativity, to christen United Provinces as Uttar Pradesh was bereft of any rationale.

of Maha - Rashtras

That brings me to my favourite party quiz question in Mumbai: Why is Maharashtra called Maharashtra? The real reason – as once explained to a senior colleague of mine – Nirmal Sinha – by a  Marathi Trade Union Leader – is not what the Thackeray Tiger would have us believe (Maha – as in great – rashtra) but “Mahadev (or Shiva)’s Rashtra”. That’s because – it seems 8 out of the 12 Jyotirlingas of Shiva were located in the greater Bombay State ( Somnath, Dwarka, Ujjain, Bhimashanker, Trimbakeshwar, Sri Sailam Mallikarjuna, Omkareshwar, Grijhneshwar). It’s another matter that 4 of them now fall outside of Maharashtra ( in Gujarat, MP and Andhra).

So is it any surprise that, the young Scindia scion – on coming to Mumbai tries to claim his Maratha roots by speaking a smattering of Marathi ?

But, the bigger question is - if by carving out Maharashtra we nixed the identity of the Marathi speaking people around the region.

and, minor - rashtras

Now whether Bundelkhand should include parts of MP as well will be decided in the course of time. But, the question that is boiling is Telengana and can’t be put off much longer. There is little justification of denying Telengana statehood in the face of such over-pouring emotions and political angst and to hold Hyderabad as a pawn in the negotiations is absolutely ludicrous, in my judgment – with due deference to the retired judge whose charming wife light-heartedly says he is a better flirt than a jurist (who said I am not afraid of libel !!).

little donuts

One of my favourite authors, Charles Handy, had in a management context talked of the “Donut Principle”. It basically means, people can identify themselves best at two levels. So you can be a Bengali and an Indian – but not a Bengali, Eastern Indian and Indian (debunking our old proclivity to term any one south of the Vindhyas as South Indians and everyone in the cow belt – North Indians). So, it is difficult to impose artificial regional identities on ethno-culturally heterogeneous communities.

Though I won’t go as far as my former editor boss – who advocates breaking up of South Asia into independent small states – a la the European Union - but with a common national cricket team (where Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Bangladesh will be allowed to have their own cricket teams and Nepal can have the status of Switzerland, retaining their own currency), I think  a further devolution is inevitable and already evident in the emergence of regional parties that have come to stay.

An article by B G Varghese puts some of the issues in a balanced framework (Better and more beautiful)

Meanwhile, I will be waiting for Siliguri to become the Chandigarh of the East.

A season of autobiographies

It’s a season of autobiographies. Some weeks back – I had written about Fali Nariman’s memoirs (read here). If that was a gem - B G Verghese’ “First Draft” (Tranquebar) is a rare treat.

Reading the lives of the “good and the great” is always inspirational. But, I find the memoirs of contemporary stalwarts no less fascinating as long as they are not just exercises in self-glorification and intellectual narcissism.

Sure, their accounts are bound to be coloured by personal bias and they would no doubt apply their own filters (or else – why would they undertake the audacious journey of writing a book if they didn’t have something of their own to say). Yet, they offer the by-stander valuable insights and perspective on people and events that has shaped some of our contemporary reality.

Besides, there is always something instructive not only in the successes and achievements, but even in the failings of people, who have lived a full life in every sense – personally and professionally.

GnT loaded Voyeurism

It’s with similar expectations, I had picked up the much-hyped autobiography of Tony Blair– but couldn’t make much headway. May be I am not so interested in modern British political history, but more likely I didn’t take to his style of writing. Even the chapter on Lady Di made tedious reading and despite my self-professed inclination for vicarious voyeurism didn’t manage to reach the part where, I believe, he admits that he was quite “an animal in bed” after downing several GnTs.

Although there are no such salacious confessions in either Nariman’s or Verghese’ book, I like them because these 2 very distinguished gentleman - both doyens in their own field have recounted their experiences spanning over 5 or 6 decades – keeping themselves firmly on the backseat. Not an easy thing to do for people who have not only been there and seen that but done pretty much everything there was to do in their chosen arena.

the many genres of illiteracy

The sheer sweep of BGV’s book, the range of his interests, the span and depth of his knowledge across subjects is truly awesome. No wonder he is concerned that, ‘…many educated middle-aged Indians, including policy makers, are astonishingly ill-informed about the context and background of seminal topics such as Kashmir…, Siachen…’. He attributes this to the absence of books on the general history of post-independence India. A void he has tried to fill in some measure in his own way.

At another place – he laments how much of our high politics is conducted “in a state of cartographic illiteracy” with even elementary geography having been devalued educationally as a discipline. He dares to say, therefore, “few of our policy makers have ever looked at a map of India and its neighbours in 60 years”.

Reading his memoir, at one level, I feel how little we have moved on certain issues as a nation over the last 60 years – Kashmir for instance. Simply, “changing the names and dates… (would make) it appear totally contemporary” – as he writes in the foreword.

The irony though is, issues which agitated our public psyche in the 60s and 70s – such as corruption in public life, professional (and intellectual) integrity of the bureaucracy and attempts towards having a ‘committed’ judiciary – all seem so passé now.

the price of feudocracy

Today – the going ‘price’ of an MLA or MP is general knowledge; that bureaucrats will be hand-maidens of their political bosses is an accepted fact and there is not even a flutter when one of the senior most and highly respected lawyer of the country hands over in an open court sealed envelope to the Chief Justice of India containing names of previous CJIs who were ‘known’ to be corrupt. It is, therefore, hardly surprising that - the rot has also insidiously crept in to our armed forces - still one of the finest and most respected in the world.

The parts of the book (other than, of course, his account of the Emergency era) – which I found particularly riveting were the chapters on his tenure as the Press Officer of Indira Gandhi during her first term as PM and, thereafter, his stint as the Editor of the Hindustan Times.

a little left of self-interest

In the 2 Chapters “Enter Mrs. G: Madam Prime Minister, Sir” and “A Mandate for Change” he provides a invaluable peek into Indira Gandhi's formative years in office and early events that shaped her attitude - deeply suspicion of her advisors - trusting only her won instincts (like Joan of Arc listen to her ‘inner voice’, which – as they said – was only “a little left of self interest”) and her family. A trait that now appears to be deeply embedded in the genetic code of the dynasty.


‘The Editor’s Den’ read with what he has written in a later chapter (‘The professor will see you now’) as a footnote serves as a capsule commentary on the gradual ascent and the quick decline of the Indian media. (Journalists as activists and propagandists, editorializing in news columns, decline of editors lack of editorial control, deals struck with business houses and political interests, the spoils being shared all along the line). While, he admits, that “there are exceptions, of course, and some of the best writing and coverage is superior to what there was earlier….But the average is sorely disappointing.”

True the age of the 'larger-than-life' Editors has been long gone (and, not just in India) I can't help recalling here the quip of a proprietor-editor, one of the last of the Mohicans. Talking of a poster-boy of the current lot of celebrity-editors - he said in his inimitable style - "the chap may have gone to Oxford, but even his best friend would not accuse him of being educated".


But, the central story, of course, is that of his historic sacking from the position of the Editor of HT. He has reproduced the correspondence exchange preceding that between him and the owner of the paper (K K Birla) and the proceedings that followed in the Press Council and the High Court. This was– perhaps – the first big ‘acid test’ of Editorial independence in Indian media (barring, probably, the lesser known episode in The Statesman relating to Pran Chopra in the 60s).


Saints, SUVs and Sweat Equity

Though not comparable either in stature or circumstances - the recent tale of a young editor (co-incidentally a product of that very same stable on KG Marg) who suffered a similar fate at a fledgling TV news channel (To read click here: My Settlement with NewsX by Avirook Sen) will make the earlier generation of proprietors look like saints. (Avirook managed to get Rs 2 crores and keep his SUV by threatening to take them to court. Then he went on a sabbaticcal to write his just published travelogue "Looking for America", Harper Collins, India)


That brings me to another little anecdote. Post the Emergency, Verghese contested the election as an independent candidate from Kerala. Funding came from ‘friends, family and those who believed in press freedom’ (which was his electoral ‘platform’). He lost despite support of the CPIM.

Though he doesn’t talk about it himself, a professional compatriot of his has written about this in his review of the book for a magazine. It seems that, after the elections there was still some money left in the kitty. Verghese returned it to all the donors in proportion to their original contributions.

Contrast this with another illustrious Malayali - of his partner’s “sweat equity” fame - who fought and won in the last parliamentary elections from the same state and it would, more or less, complete the picture of our drifting value system.



Finally, Verghese’ prescription for staying young is to be ‘active and engaged’ (he says – he has been ever more active in retirement). He advises – “eat what you will in moderation and do not exercise too much - (as even) that too is an indulgence”. Wonder what does he say to his younger son Rahul who has taken to running Marathon for a living (Virtual Marathon - click here).