On the Hot Seat

It was my first interview at Times Wow TV. With several video cameras, microphones and the bright lighting, the newsroom was overawing. I was nervous. The man interviewing me was none other than the editor-in-chief.

“I have met ten other men who want to be News Editors," he asked point blank. "How do I know you are different?”

"Sir, I want to do stories that go beyond the superficial. Stories that analyze, compare, and report facts without any bias. Stories that really matter.”

He gave me an assessing look. “So what kind of stories really matter?”

“Sir, like a story on farmer suicides,” I said righteously. “I also want to end the shrill activism on television channels. I want to focus on who-did-what, and not on, who-said-what.”

Silence.

"Yeah. You could do that. And watch the channel close down." Then he straightened his back and began. “Let’s say, you run a food stall. What will you sell? Healthy dal with low salt, or tasty chaat?

“Umm...but journalism is not like selling chaat.”

His eyes glittered in anger but his lips were smiling. “Really? So you don’t want a pay check? No?”

“No. I mean, yes. Yes, I need the money. I have ambitions and all.” I was trying to be brave in a bid to quell the rising panic in my belly.

“Let’s say, you come back after a stressful day at work. You pick up a magazine. The magazine has an interview with Raghuram Rajan about his monetary policy, and some semi-nude pictures. Which one would you look at first?

Beetroot red. “Sir, what are you saying? I am a responsible journalist.”

“So, Mr. Responsible. Are you on Facebook? Twitter? Why do you think Twitter is so popular?

“Err…Sir, I follow you on Twitter. I also sent you a friend request.”

Ignoring  my comment he continued, “Twitter is popular because people want to talk about individuals. Follow them. Because news is ephemeral. Transient. Pick up the juiciest sound bite, chew it. Throw it. What trends today, fades tomorrow.”

“I see but...”

“You see nothing. There are more than 400 channels today. Most are owned by politicians. So naturally, the stories are biased. Moreover, a story needs to be told. And then, the same story needs to be sold," he said. " I can also make documentaries on tigers and female foeticide. Will you watch them?"
Adjusting his spectacles, he said, "Eye balls. We need eye balls to survive the competition. To generate the revenue. Young man, there is no channel without the viewer. And indeed, there is no viewer without the channel. You know what I mean?" 

I nodded. 

He continued. "Look, sometimes we have to create a feeling that things are wrong. Horribly wrong. Create a demand for dissatisfaction. Let the outrage flow. And outrage flows unhindered in the absence of focus or detail. I don’t enjoy heckling or interrupting guests. It is the viewer who enjoys it.”

He then shrugged and got up to leave. “Do all the stories you want young man, but remember - words over action, individual over issue, controversy over content. Sibling rivalry over substantive issues. Politics of hate over politics of ideology. Missing wife over missing policy.” Smiling, he added, “And you get your pay check at the end of the month. Find the wife and you get double.”

Whoosh. My  idealistic notions were flushed  away by reality.

I began packing my bags for a pilgrimage. Only to realize that most of my peers were doing that - finding Jasodaben.


Read an article by Rajdeep Sardesai on this topic  Here

Image Courtesy: Google Images