A festival of idiots

Over the last two months, I’ve participated at various literature festivals. It has much to do with that The Aadhaar Effect, a book I co-authored with NS Ramnath is now on the shelves. Having done the rounds, I feel compelled to conclude the few honest people that exist in the ecosystem are organizers (many of whom are volunteers) and the audiences who take much pain to get there. 

 Practically, every other creature at events such as these are either idiots or parasites. It was a thought that occurred last year when I moderated a panel discussion at the Bangalore Lit Fest. Following that, I exchanged notes with my former colleague and friend Manu Joseph. “Oftentimes, all a writer has to do is simply describe what he sees and the story tells itself," he told me. “It can be both amusing and insightful."

 With the benefit of hindsight, I now know Manu was right. I don’t have much to do here except describe the various kinds of creatures I saw off stage, on stage, behind the stage, and describe them. This story will tell itself. Indeed. Manu was right. They are regulars at all lit fests, some traits bind them all, and most are idiots to boot.

•  They carry an impression of themselves—that they are created of a different mud as opposed to the “masses" who frequent cinema halls to watch Shah Rukh Khan serenade his love interests in the Bollywood version of Switzerland. 

• They also imagine themselves as more intelligent than everybody else because they are professional critics often employed at a media house. So, they think it incumbent to criticize everything. 

• These creatures get invited to events like these and are put up at plush places. They talk well, look good, and carry a certain demeanor. And, for all practical purposes, they “travel in a pack". But the serious critics are often ignored and work in mofussil places.

• Funnier still is that, unlike the Shah Rukh Khan fan who will pay hard-earned money to watch a movie first day first show, this vocal minority pays nothing for anything. But their criticism is taken seriously. “The rooms at Cannes last week were so much more better than the crap ones here," for instance. 

Take the media critic for instance. This creature is of two kinds—the uninformed and the idiot. The uninformed exists because it hasn’t done its homework and lucked out to get to where it is. 

 Idiots exist because they can scream from the rooftops. But they lack substance. That is the tragedy with both Indian liberals and those on the extreme right wing. Push them hard and they cannot defend their position beyond 500 words in print. But their decibel levels are high on television and are parasites to boot.

 Idiots then pick and choose what can cause the most impact, craft it to suit their interests, and bomb the place with it. All else is ignored conveniently.

When questioned, they have a standard question to throw: who funds you?

But popular narratives are shaped by either the uninformed or the idiot.

 To put that into perspective, from all forums that matter, I have stated that for all its flaws, to provide a unique identity to over a billion people is a staggering accomplishment. And to completely diss Aadhaar is stupid. But the so-called liberals don’t like this narrative.

 At the Bangalore Lit Fest, when I said that in as many words, some media outlets and social media handles reported the next morning that I was heckled by a packed audience. This was in contrast to what I could see from stage. I thought I could see an audience keen to listen to different perspectives. Because, until then, the only narrative most people have been told is that Aadhaar is a dystopian idea and intended to hijack their lives.

 But because local media reports had it that I was heckled, I thought I’d check with a few friends who were in the audience. They told me the only dissonant notes were by some angry voices in the front. Darned right I was. The larger audience wanted to listen in to the multiple perspectives. But if it got reported, it would hijack the contemporary narrative now controlled by a vocal minority. 

 Manu thought the audience was a receptive one as well. That is why my initial irritation gave way to much amusement when my colleague Ramnath reminded me of a quote by Oscar Wilde. “There is much to be said in favour of modern journalism. By giving us opinions of the uneducated, it keeps us in touch with the ignorance of the community."

This is not to suggest I have no biases. “Why," I argued in my head, “does Twinkle Khanna have to be at a lit fest? What is her claim to fame? Is it because she is pretty? What were the organizers thinking? Or smoking? And why is she always surrounded by people who want selfies with her?" I always maintained her book sold as many copies as it did because she is pretty and was a popular actor.

 Another part of me confronted myself, though, and said that it is a terribly unfair thing to suggest. I haven’t read her book and arrived at a conclusion based on some assumptions—not the truth. I haven’t met her or made any attempt to meet her either. But later in the evening, over dinner, Manu told me that he has met her while on an assignment and thinks of her as an intelligent and beautiful woman. 

 But the media can shape popular narrative and informed opinions are hard to come by. To that extent, I suspect I am the kind of liberal who give liberals a bad name.

 It was driven home harder still when I walked over to the table where Makarand Paranjape, was seated. He asked me my name. And then went on to tell me the historical significance of its origins and why I ought to be happy to possess it. When I told him I am not a practicing Catholic, he went on to offer me a brief treatise on the history of Catholicism and asked me some tough questions on why I gave up my faith. So much for all narratives of him being called a right winger. If he is on the right wing, give me a right winger like him any day, as opposed to a shallow liberal.

The other nugget that came my way is that there are “paid critics" who are “professional socialites". There is a reason they get invited to these dos. They have large followings on social medias platforms and columns as well in popular newspapers—usually tabloids or on Page 3. A tweet from them or a line insidiously implying a brand is a good one can get their accounts credited with as much as Rs.5 lakh. In much the same way, they can destroy a carefully crafted reputation as well with a single line. They must be humoured and kept in the good books. 

The other joker who is a regular on the circuit, has answers to everybody’s questions, likes to publicly diss Ruskin Bond as an “old fart”, is a tall, lanky, light-eyed, idiot based out of Mumbai. He claims to be a Bombay-boy, has answers to everything visiting white folks at lit festivals are curious about. As for us “desi-boys”, we don’t cut ice with him. But yes, he lives a nice, “cheap" life of the kind I envy.

(A longer version of this piece was originally published in Mint last year)

Failure is an option

It is now infuriating to open the newspaper and stare at the image of some kid who has topped their "board exams". Inevitably, the image and the accompanying story, is a cliched one.

Middle-class (or poor kid, if you will) slogged for 14-15 hours everyday against the odds, now flanked by proud parents on either side.

Then there are other "war-stories" as well. That of some kid who studied at night-school; another who studied under the street-lamp; yet another of beating utter poverty; and so on and so forth. Their lives are inevitably charted out as well. Indian parent aspire their children will grow up to be one of a few professionals: A doctor, an engineer, a management professional (and the more "patriotic" imagine their progeny as an officer out of the National Defence Academy). 

Then there are the so-called "liberal" folks who think children must follow their dreams and are "comfortable" with them pursuing a degree in the "liberal arts" insist kids get into the most premier colleges.

Failure in not an option.        

For the kids who did well, good on you. Many congratulations. But give the kids who made it, those who didn't, and folks like me a break. I'm done with reading cliches because fact is, those who did well are outliers--not the normal.

Very recently, I read someplace the most traumatic years in a human's life is adolescence. That piqued my curiosity and I've been looking up for rigorous literature on the theme. What I haven't managed to do yet though are wrangle a few one-on-one conversations with people who have researched the theme deeply. 

Since the time the thought got embedded in the mind, I can't help look at adolescents with much curiosity either. What may they be going on in their minds? And then out of no place, this song showed up on my feed. I had to listen to it.

Catie Turner - 21st Century Machine (Lyrics)

It was written, composed and performed by the 17-year old Catie Turner and was first presented to the world when she auditioned for the 2018 edition of American Idol. She came across as quirky, a tad arrogant perhaps, and nerdy as well -- but there is no taking away from the innocence of it all.

Since she burst on the scene earlier this year, much has been spoken and written about her and she has attracted a lot of attention.

What got me though is the perspective the song offers. There is rebellion in it and it must compel every adult to question how ought we be looking at kids?

Now that I'm in my forties, I'm hard pressed to imagine how may I have appeared to those older than me. What I do know though is that I wanted to fit-in, be seen as grown up, mean and badass. I suspect many elders indulged me. I am certain though I must have looked like a lump of turd trying too hard.

Back then, I thought the only option I had was to be a medical doctor. And because I couldn't make it to medical school, ended up studying the biosciences. How was I to know then over time, a series of failures and accidents would see me through philosophy, economics, finance, technology, journalism, writing, people, and above all else, go back to the text books I could make no sense of then. How was I to know back then that there is a life beyond medical and engineering school? And that it's okay to fail.

The one lesson that has stayed through all this is: It's okay to fail. So long as you're willing to get up and get on with what next. There is much joy in the journey.  

It's time to be gentler to our kids. 

The Spotlight on Incest

That the 2015 movie Spotlight, a taut thriller that recounts the story of an investigation by the reporters of the newspaper The Boston Globe into the sexual abuse of children by clerics of the Catholic Church is a front-runner for the Oscars is secondary. What is primary is the accompanying shame that hits viewers in the gut.

And that is because contrary to what you would imagine, this isn’t a movie about journalism in its finest traditions—but about looking at truth dispassionately, leadership against the odds, the gumption to question fondly held notions, acknowledging frailties and acquiring wisdom to set all of what is wrong, right. These are traits that aren’t acquired easily. That the setting is the newsroom of a popular newspaper is completely incidental. Think of it as a metaphor if you will of how countries, organizations and individuals behave instead.

The film is yet to be released in India but most cinema aficionados perhaps already know the plot. The Boston Globe is a hugely successful and widely respected newspaper in a predominantly Catholic community. The rolls of the newspaper include Spotlight, a team of four reporters who spend all of their time and energies on investigative journalism. They are hugely successful at what they do.

When the editor retires, everybody at the organization takes it for granted somebody from the system will be elevated to take his role. But the management in a moment of epiphany thinks it may just be appropriate to bring an outsider. Marty Baron, a man brought up in the Jewish faith and a rank outsider to Boston, finally gets into the system. Liev Schreiber powerfully and subtly etches the role.

As is the wont in most organizations, when a new leader takes charge, they look at what their predecessors have done, evaluate it, and try to figure if there are better ways to do things. In any which case, that is what good leaders intend to do. And as is often the case, their intent is met with hostility—overt at times, covert at others.

When the new editor gets down to the job on hand, a sparsely reported news item catches his eye. Buried in the pages of the newspaper, he sees sporadic reports of children being sexually abused by priests in the Catholic Church. Why, the “outsider” in the new system wonders, and asks that in as many words to the “insiders”.

The first response is that the newspaper has already reported on it, the concerned authorities at the Church have taken appropriate action—and that these are perhaps one off episodes that don’t need further investigation. He declines to buy the argument.

Some moments of debate and tension later, the argument resonates across the room and the team galvanizes into action. It is pertinent to pause here for a moment and ask why did the new editor turn to a small four-person team to lead change? Why didn’t he mount a frontal attack on the larger system that was in need of an even bigger overhaul?

When looked at from a thoughtful leader’s perspective, it makes sense in the longer term to go after potential areas where the chances of acquiring wins are higher. Most leaders, who come in from the outside, in desperate attempts to make their presence felt, go into slash and burn mode. This is the kind of thing that can backfire dramatically and is very often a point of no return.

That is why, with some convincing, a team most likely to buy into his ideas seemed the wisest thing to do. Months of meticulous investigation later, they blow the lid off one of the Catholic Church’s darkest secrets—that it actively connived to protect the worst kind of offenders.

Boston Globe Tony Fischer  Creative Commons

The story got The Boston Globe many accolades including the much-coveted Pulitzer Prize for Public Service Journalism in 2003, exposed a series of child abuse scandalsin churches across the world, and it eventually took a man like Pope Francis, the current head of the church and an outsider to the system that is the Vatican, to muster the courage to apologize. “Before God and his people I express my sorrow for the sins and grave crimes of clerical sexual abuse committed against you. And I humbly ask forgiveness,” he said at a private mass in Vatican City.

That is one among the many reasons why Spotlight is a movie not just every journalist, but everybody in leadership positions ought to put on their list of mandatory viewing. It begs that we ask of ourselves where our moral compass lies.

Let us consider a set of simple questions. Why does pretty much everybody believe Indian media houses are compromised entities? Why does everybody think Indian businesses get to where they are because they are inherently corrupt? Why does every Indian believe business cannot be a force for good?

Spotlight offers an answer: Incest.

When the team at The Boston Globe finally got down to investigating the scandal, what stunned them initially was that their findings weren’t new. The Church knew about it all along. A medieval code of honour though compelled its leaders to deny any wrongdoing. Instead, they went out of their way to not just eliminate traces of incriminating documents, but protect the perpetrators as well. From an editor’s perspective, this was as damning as it gets. It was an astonishing story to be told.

When the publisher got wind of what the editor had in mind, he paused. Perhaps, he was wondering what the consequences could be. After all, 53 percent of the newspaper’s readers were Catholic—just the kind of audience advertisers in the newspaper reached out to. If a story as damning as this were carried, it could antagonize readers and in turn advertisers on whom The Boston Globe depended for sustenance. Marty Baron, though, is one of the rare editors that holds his ground and insists on having his way.

And the only reason he can do that is because he is an outsider who has the advantage of distance to understand a story like this will not alienate the community it caters to. Instead, it addresses the reader’s unstated need that they know the underbelly of the system they blindly believe in.

Turn the gaze now to India. Speaking off-the-record, business tycoons of impeccable pedigree talk disdainfully of the media houses and journalists that feature them. They make no attempt to conceal the contempt they hold journalists in; who are grateful for having gotten a sound byte or an exclusive interview on a good day; and their counterparts on the business side for having wrangled some money in advertising spends. They speak disdainfully of people in the government as well. That said, they have the gall as well to believe they are demi-gods whom the masses worship because of the monies they control.

Those in government think of business people as obliged objects. Behind their backs, they speak disdainfully of their “ill-gotten” wealth that accrued to them on the back of pleas for favours.

As for Indian journalists, when the day’s job is done, often they congregate to exchange notes on how aware they are that they are being used as tools both by the publishers of the title they work in and the folks whom they deal with in desperate attempts to get stories that may please their editors.

Journalist Hartosh Singh Bal in the most recent issue of Caravan magazinebrilliantly captures these incestuous relationships. Writing on the relationship between the current finance and information & broadcasting minister Arun Jaitley and journalist, he recounts an anecdote that sums it all up:

“I can still remember a story he related at one of the evenings I attended. Jaitley was explaining why he felt India Today, under its then editor Prabhu Chawla, was gunning for him. The story, that involved columnist Swapan Dasgupta and Chawla was scurrilous and unprintable. But I do recall being taken aback by the ease with which Jaitley could betray the confidences of even those such as Dasgupta—who continues to be considered close to him—to a complete stranger. Four years later, I met Jaitley again at the BJP office in Ahmedabad where I had gone to cover the 2007 Gujarat Assembly elections. As I spoke to Jaitley, Dasgupta sat at his feet taking dictation for a press release. By then I had spent a few years in Delhi, and nothing that Lutyens’ insiders put themselves through in their need to be close to power could surprise me.”

As much as all of these creatures think of each other as spineless, nobody has the spunk to rock the boat. Because at the end of the day, everybody needs the other. They are all insiders locked in with each other.

Kavi Arasu, a leadership and talent development professional and a professional certified coach with the International Coaching Federation has an interesting hypothesis on the insider versus outsider debate.

“There is a certain rhythm, or cadence, to how we think and how we behave,” he says. So long as the both of these are in synch with each other, it is a comfortable place to be in. For any individual or organization to develop though, this rhythm ought to be challenged. But development in any form is painful because the rhythm they are used to work in comes under scrutiny. The most convenient thing to do then is to turn a blind eye and imagine there is no problem.

But disturbing a rhythm is only one part of the problem.Pretty much everybody gets it that if they are to be better at what they do, they have to seek development out proactively. That explains the clamour to get into programmes that promise to change lives or how an entity works. Having gone through the programme and when the initial euphoria wears out, everybody settles back into the rhythm they are accustomed to.

This is because the psyche of every entity is such that after having gone through a development programme, it compels them to look at the past. When done honestly, often it repudiates all of what was in the past. Almost overnight, you begin to look silly. That becomes one more reason to go back to the familiar cadence.

Pope Benedict by Rvin88 under  Creative Commons license

Then there is wilful blindness. To understand this, consider Pope Benedict XVI, the predecessor to the current Pope Francis. He was the classical insider. Of European descent, when he was known as Cardinal Ratzinger, he issued a secret edict in 2001to all bishops in the Catholic Church, that the interests of the church be put ahead of child safety. When he finally resigned, many were relieved because he was accused of not doing enough to contain the damage. Instead, critics insist he led the charge to protect those who ought to have been prosecuted. As some people put it, “I see it, I know it, but I hope somebody else will manage it.”

This raises another question. If it was so blindingly obvious to everybody Pope Benedict was practicing wilful blindness, why didn’t anybody who believes in the Catholic faith raise a red flag? Sacha Pfeiffer, one of the four persons in the Spotlight team at The Boston Globe, summed it up succinctly: “When you have powerful, beloved institutions, it’s possible it can be too powerful or too beloved for people to want to ask them questions. And I think you have to.”

Into all of this, an insider is impeded by the fact that a large part of their actions are embedded in the past they come from. When challenged, they carry the burden of having to explain why they did things in a certain way. In Spotlight, the brilliant Michael Keaton essays the role of Walter "Robby" Robinson, who heads the Spotlight team. He was part of the system and knew it inside out.

Marty Baron, the outsider, does not have to carry the burden of history. He is inherently oriented to plant new flags and change things. This is not to suggest that insiders cannot do the job. There was this one instance at one of India’s most respected firm’s when a member of the senior team was elevated to the CEO’s role. It was met with much applause internally.

Overnight though his persona and actions changed. It was only a matter of time before all of the insiders in the system rebelled against him. They argued that they were doing things as he had envisioned it would be when he was part of the senior team. Why, then, was he compelling them to change? “Because my role as CEO demands that,” he shot back unapologetically. Such leaders who emerge from the inside are rare.

That said, it is not easy being an outsider either. This is because they see things differently. When insiders to a system see the kind of changes like Baron brings in to the newsroom, it has a bearing on the insider’s past as well. It makes sense to some people. In Spotlight, there are those like the intrepid reporter Michael Rezandes, played by Mark Ruffolo, to whom the changes make sense and are willing to transition.

But to others, like Michael Keaton in the movie, they are willing to play along because they see an end point to the change. They reckon it may last a year or two, the changes will be pointless, and the cadence at which they worked at in the past will come back to normal. So they’re willing to give it a shot.

But when people embedded in the system don’t see an endpoint to the changes on hand, the system they represent and the world they operate in, gets violent. To give but one more instance from an Indian context, a large Indian professional firm got in an American executive with a mandate to create a charter for change. It was made obvious to everybody in the organization that he is here to question assumptions and bring change. Almost immediately, he ran into hostility—not vociferous because everybody knew he had the management’s backing. So each time a meeting was called for, everybody in the room would confer in Hindi just so that they may make the new man in charge uncomfortable.

Manu Joseph, a novelist, columnist and the former editor of Open magazine is another case in point. Journalistic circles have it that his exit from Open was on the back of differences between him and the promoter Sanjiv Goenka, chairman of the RP Sanjiv Goenka Group. Apparently, Goenka insisted on having his way on a key hire in the editorial team who would report in to the editor Joseph.

Joseph thought it his prerogative to decide who stays on the team and who doesn’t. Goenka had his way eventually and Joseph chose to exit from the magazine. When contacted, Joseph said, “This, is true. This is why I quit. It is an episode I have not spoken about to anybody in detail. Sanjiv and I continue to be friends.”

But Joseph is seen as the consummate outsider in Delhi. “To be fair Delhi was very welcoming, Delhi did reach out. But I could not respond as graciously as I wanted to because I wished to spend all the time I could on my novel, and often chose to miss late nights to wake up early for a run. Also, I wished to have the freedom to write whatever I wanted to, to get involved in toxic stories that are taboo if you wish to be co-opted into Delhi’s networks.”

When probed on why, by way of example he brings up the curious case of Tarun Tejpal. Tejpal has been accused of raping a former colleague in an elevator in Goa.

“The general opinion in Delhi’s media circle was that Tejpal was guilty. I got access to the footage of CCTV cameras in the hotel where the incident occurred. And I believed it was a genuine journalistic story. The contents of the footage disputed some of the things that the young woman had said. Some people thought my story favoured Tejpal. By touching toxic stories like the one on Tarun Tejpal, I became the outsider. By looking at the CCTV footage, it embarrassed the campaign in the media and I became an outsider by doing what I did,” says Joseph.

But, Joseph wrote in his investigation on L’affaire Tejpal: “For most of his adult life, Tejpal was celebrated as a journalist and a writer by a network of Delhi’s influential cultural elite who transmitted that sentiment to the vast public.”

Does being an outsider extract a toll on you?

“Yes, a writer needs the goodwill of his peers and many times I feel I don’t have it,” says Joseph. “But most days I don’t care.”

Being an outsider takes its toll on the soul as well. Prime Minister Narendra Modi is an outsider to Delhi. Barack Obama was an outsider when he was first elected to office. “But these men have something brazen about them. They couldn’t care less,” says Kavi Arasu. The moral then is that to be a successful outsider you need one of two things: Either a benign system that is willing to tolerate you or a thick skin.

In a benign system, if the outsider comes in and doesn’t do much to shake things up, the system will stay benign. If the system isn’t benign, a thick skin is essential. But above all else, outsiders have to take the effort to build an ecosystem around them that they can converse with. The headwinds that come with being an outsider isn’t easy to handle. It is only human then to feel fragile. The only way out is to turn to the ecosystem and draw from internal resilience.

Pope Francis by  Alfredo Borba under  Creative Commons

And that brings us back to the Vatican and what is it about the incumbent Pope Francis that makes him different from his predecessors. He comes across as a gentle soul who perhaps doesn’t have it in him to take on a powerful system.

“There has to be means of self-renewal,” offers Arasu by way of explanation. “For renewal to happen, you need a certain degree of self-awareness.”

Pope Francis perhaps doesn’t have a thick skin. But he can do things differently because he is an outsider in more ways than one. All of his predecessors were European. He comes from a South American background and grew up in the slums of Argentina.

Has he encountered opposition? He has.

Among the first things he did was to start work on a complete overhaul of a long-standing hierarchy. He asked that bishops be pastors “who smell of the sheep and not be airport bishops that buzz around the world padding their resumes and develop the psychology of princes.”

He has demanded “A poor church, for the poor!” That also means a huge clean up of the Vatican Bank, the machinations of which are shrouded in mystery to most people. But he wants to overhaul the place and make it accountable. It’s a slog. But somebody’s got to do it.

And if all this weren’t enough, he is the first pope to have taken the issue of climate change head on. “We need a conversation which includes everyone, since the environmental change we are undergoing, and its human roots, concern and affect us all,” he said in a speech in the US. Conservative Republicans and devout Catholics were horrified. Why is the head of the Catholic Church getting into things he ought not to be meddling in? Isn’t his mandate a spiritual one?

Jeb Bush, a runner in the race to be American President in 2016, dismissed it with: “Put aside Pope Francis on the subject of any political conversation.” But there is nothing the system can do either to keep him out because systems have their own sets of challenges. The machinations of the Vatican can only be speculated upon. But it is entirely possible that after Pope Benedict XVI resigned, there were a few cardinals who wanted to be the pope. It is entirely possible as well that they could not arrive at a consensus on who takes over. The only palatable option then was to settle for an outsider like Pope Francis and wait it out until the stalemate lasts.

That pretty much explains the sequence in Spotlight when the cardinal at Boston calls on Baron to suggest he stay away from the story for the damage it can inflict on believers. Baron goes back to his office and recounts the encounter to the team at work on the investigation. When they vocalize their concerns around the potential fallouts, Baron quietly shoots back: “I am not asking you to do this. I am telling you to do this.” 

This article was first published simultaneously in Mint & Founding Fuel. All copyrights exist with the publishers

Why froth now at bribed journalists?

I read with great amusement today and watched frothing debates on television of how a BJD Member of Parliament tried to bribe journalists in the temple town of Puri. Ostensibly, with cash in the region of Rs 200-300 tucked away. 

The reason I say amusement is because much of the outrage is misplaced. My mind goes back to 1993 when I was still wet behind the ears and had just stepped into business journalism. Those were the boom days for Initial Public Offerings (IPOs). So much so, that there used to be an IPO beat and it was a coveted one. Why it was so coveted soon became obvious to me.

Every single day, on average, there would be at least four to five press conferences that were nothing short of a sham. Promoters of all kinds wanted an IPO to raise funds and conferences would be held at either the Taj Mahal or The Oberoi (now The Trident) in Mumbai. The tardier ones would settle for The President. All within a stones throw of each other.

Reporters on the IPO beat hunted in packs. They went "conference hopping" as a group. So if they were late for a scheduled press meet, the promoters had no choice but to wait until they all of them arrived. And even when they did come in, their harried public relations folks would do their best to stall the meet until a representative from the Economic Times made it. For promoters, the press meet wasn't complete until all of these souls had congregated at one of the fancy rooms in one of these hotels.

The public relations machinery knew their drill. As the journalists trooped in, they'd hand over dockets containing the mandatory IPO prospectus'. Nobody as much as bothered to look through it. The conference would begin, the promoters would belt out some rubbish, and the floor would be opened to questions.

A senior lady journalist whom I shall not name right now would open the Q&A with a dumbass question: Gentlemen, how much of your revenues will come from exports? Answer: Blah blah blah blah.

Second question: Invariably around why the operating margins are high or low--a number you don't need a rocket scientist to figure out.  

Everybody exchanges glances, because there is another conference to go to. And before they do, there is a lavish spread to be tackled. So the lady journalist from South Mumbai in her best faux accent would say loud: Thank you gentlemen, that will be all. And everybody would scramble to the buffet table.

On their way out, the public relations folks would hand out envelopes to all of the assembled journalists. Incidentally, the firm that started the practice of handling these envelopes is now among the biggest in the country and had fine tuned it into an art form. 

It contained "gift vouchers" of various denominations from CitiBank. At the very least, Rs 500. Some in the region of Rs 1,000. And one of the largest giveaways of Rs 1,500 was made by a conglomerate that is now in the news for being close to the prime ministers office. Bounty in place, the booty hunters would head to the next conference to collect the next instalment. When placed in the context of these numbers, the Rs 200-300 being bandied in Puri sound like chicken shit 21 years ago.

These vouchers could be redeemed for practically anything at any major store or restaurant. But for the more ingenious ones, that's not where the fun was. The fun was at the Press Club where journalists and their counterparts from public relations congregated.

So, if you had a gift voucher for Rs 500, it could be exchanged for cash from your friend in the public relations community, but a marginal discount of say 10 percent or so. The journalist walked home with the cash. And the PR professional would go and pass the same voucher on to the next client on his roster at the full price. It was a win win for both sides of the profession and everybody clinked their glasses at the end of the day in appreciation of a hard days work done. The only jokers who got taken for a ride were readers who had no clue how star ratings for IPOs were arrived at by journalists who hadn't even gone through the IPO documents.

There were honorable exceptions. Can't think of too many actually. The one that came to mind, a friend from the PR business just told me only wore a holier than thou attitude. But he was worse than the others. {UPDATE} He'd walk into the press conference and leave a briefcase at the reception desk to the conference hall. Once inside, he'd make a song and dance of what a tough guy he is. The big honcho at whatever PR firm was handling the IPO, would ensure a bigger wad of gift vouchers would be placed inside this briefcase of his. Conference and mandatory silly questions done, everybody would walk, and this said gentleman would walk out after picking his briefcase up from the reception. I must add here, one of my friend from the PR firm who handled him, said the payouts given to him had to be higher than what was on offer to the others.

Then, of course, how can I forget the publisher of this rag that emanated from an office in the back lanes of the Fort area? Many people swore by it for the "tips" it offered. If any clue be needed, it's title was a rip off on the Wall Street Journal. I'll leave you to the wild guesses.  This publisher was the only man who'd walk in dressed all slick in designer suits, fancy watches that he'd keep staring at, and looked rich unlike the poor sods who inhabited the place. But make no mistakes. He wouldn't walk out without his fair share of the goodies. And what constitutes goodies?

As a friend, Sachin Joneja, pointed out on my Facebook wall, "Are you sure you are not "being polite" about the "gifts" involved? Having been on the other side, the numbers in your article make me laugh. Yes maybe the raw cash component was just this. And the fancy gifts including silver glasses etc.? And the fancy booze? And then there was the innovation of taking the whole pack for a "plant visit" perks and all if the plant was say near Pune." {UPDATE ENDS}

If there were some exceptions to the rule, our capital markets and business journalism would have been a much better and stronger today.

How I named, shamed and jailed

Watch this video. It's a powerful reminder to all those in my fraternity selling their souls for a pocket full of pennies, there is a bloody good reason why you got into this business in the first place. Sure,  journalism doesn't pay as much monies as you think you deserve. And sure, it's bloody tough to practice journalism of the kind this man talks of. But as that African proverb goes: It is better to eat a mushroom in freedom than meat in slavery.

And while on all things from Africa, allow me sign off with a line from one of the continent's most incredible son. 

Memorial service for Charu Deshpande

Charudatta Deshpande, former journalist, and senior corporate communications officer with Tata Steel, passed away harassed and tormented on 28th June, 2013. Over the last year, the Press Club, along with a motley but determined band of friends, has waged an unrelenting campaign to ensure justice is meted out to those in Tata Steel who drove him to suicide.

It was only after 4 months of struggle, in November last year, that the Thane Police agreed to register a formal FIR against Tata Steel officer Prabhat Sharma. Thereafter, for one reason or the other, the investigations have been derailed. Though a Vasai Court was inclined to dismiss the anticipatory bail application of the culprits, the Thane Police was reluctant to take them into custody. The internal investigation ordered by Tata Group chairman Cyrus Mistry has also been bottled up.

But the story is far from over. Charu’s family and friends are determined to see that the ends of justice are met. The Press Club stands by them. To reaffirm our commitment to Charu and to bring his tormentors to book, we will all assemble once again at the Press Club on Saturday, 28th June, 2014 at 4.00 PM – the first anniversary of his untimely death – for a commemoration meeting.

There will be an update on the stage of the investigation and police case. Members of Charu's family will also attend the meeting and will inform of certain initiatives Tata Steel has taken to belatedly address their grievances.

Please do attend in large numbers

Secretary

Press Club Mumbai

June 24, 2014