[Reader-list] Rahul Pandita's 3rd Posting

[rahul pandita]

The Editing area of the Television channel resembled a
temple on Shivratri. Shoes of all shapes and sizes
were piled up near the entrance, while their masters
jostled with each other to get hold of an editing
machine. A linear leviathan with a VT editor chawing
Paan in front of it. Ideally, this man should have
been in Doordarshan because he was paid for working
there. But like MCD safai karmacharis, they were only
required to sign on the attendance register and then
earn another fat salary elsewhere. Like in this
private channel. 

Then there was Sandeep Ji (dare you skipped that Ji
and you would have been made to sit on a cruise to
hell), who came from Jagbharat Times. He wrote scripts
with his antique fountain pen, filled with blue-black
ink. His favourite pastime was to summon trainee
journalists and quiz them about Mehjoor and Diego
Garcia. And if his favourite people went to him,
complaining to him about something, he would close his
pen, then lean back on his chair and after he had
closed his eyes, say: Hona to is desh mein Ram Rajya
bhi chahiye tha. Pur hein nahi. Isliye philhaal aise
hi kaam chalao. And when he got angry, he would always
say: I cannot taalerate this Naansense...

In six months, he had learnt the game. He had
understood the dynamics of survival. In order to be
low profile, one was supposed to follow four golden
rules:

1. Never wear good clothes. 
2. Never speak in English.
3. Never talk to a Girl.  
4. If it is absolutely necessary, then make sure you
don't speak to her in English.   

If you wore good clothes, spoke in English and were
caught talking to a girl, you would inadvertently land
yourself into trouble. These traits would always
invoke this sentiment among your seniors (Copy
editors, Bureau chiefs, Deputy Editors etc): Saala,
bohot Hero banta hai.

Two years passed like this. From one bulletin in the
evening, the news gear had shifted to eight in a day.
To give a live feeling, phonos would be conducted with
Correspondents. Political parties had also
acclimatised themselves with the emerging news
scenario. Neon boards, with the pictures of their top
leaders were installed in the daily Presser rooms. The
party spokesperson would come, sit in front of the
board and brief the correspondents. Then they would be
served Samosas and tea (Both sugarless and with
sugar). 

One day, Sandip Ji was in his quiz mood. He was
checking his story, while the Correspondent who
covered BJP was also sitting there. Suddenly, his eyes
rose from the script and he asked the BJP
Correspondent: Do you know who is that semi-bald man,
whose picture you see everyday on that neon board at
the BJP headquarters? The Correspondent froze. He
rubbed his chin, but no name figured on his lips. And
then Sandip Ji turned towards him: Do you know who he
is?
He replied: Shyama Prasad Mukherjee. Sandip Ji looked
at that Correspondent, which almost felt like a slap.
Then he turned back to the script. 

The BJP Correspondent never spoke to him afterwards. 
  

 







Rahul Pandita 
  www.sanitysucks.blogspot.com
  Mobile: 9818088664



		
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