Tuesday, December 18, 2007


"My favourite" bug has bitten all the bloggers. With many list of the ilk are filling the webpages of most, it had kinda swung me as well. Even if you don't welcome it, you have no other option but to read this seemingly ridiculous moments. Read between lines to decipher the "deeper" meaning of it.
So here it goes.
It feels wonderful
i) when an early morning calls wakes me up showering praises on my report that got into paper that morning before adding, with a liberal dose of hesitancy, that there was a spelling error in a proper name or missing of the date of occurence. I adore these people who know the knack of making one's day by bringing the good things to the fore and saving the blunder for the later part, no matter howmuchever striking the mistakes are.
ii) when i turn down high-tea and lunch offers at press meets only to wait an hour more to reach home and hog mom's cooking. Try this once and you will learn to appreaciate the gourmet queen at home.
iii) when i receive an in-land letter from a long-lost school/college friend, residing in an area that needs the mention of taluk, post and district for identification. I treasure them more carefully than my bath oils.
iv) when i stand beside my faculty coyly during my visit to the college for a coverage, hearing them saying "she was our student. we miss her" to every other chief guest who grace the events.
Well, there are lots of other "feeling wonderful" moments but wrapping this up here owing to overwhelming requests from my side. Come to think of "deeper meaning".. if you still couldn't find anything deeper than commas and fullspots, drop that. Neither can I.

Monday, September 17, 2007

Gender preferences? Murphy can have an answer
The sharp showers outside the press club was loud enough to soften the speaker's voice. Three continuous assignments had taken a toll on my energy level. I shut down my notepad and prepare to leave. When I reached for my key inside my handbag, I hear a familiar voice. "Rajesh!" I say, regaining my vitality. Rajesh is my counterpart working in a vernacular newspaper. He is well-known among journalistic circle for his left-liberal thoughts and philanthropic bent of mind. "Yeah, I had taken a week off since my wife was weak after a Caeserean section," he says, preparing to continue his lamentations about his wife's health problems. "Are mother and child safe?" I ask.
"Yeah, they are. But my wife is still too numb to even walk a few metres."
"She will be ok," I console him. "Thank god that your baby is healthy."
"Yeah she is. For all my wife's suffering, it would have been happier if we were blessed with a boy. This is our third girl child," he sighs. Though the feminist urge in me prepared to rebuke him, my voice trail off seeing his distraught face. I take leave mutely, wondering what made the gender preference transcend social strata.
When I park my two-wheeler on the open parking lot in front of my flat, I felt a heavy rain drop hitting my shoulders and I hurry to enter my home. "Amma, can you spare me a minute," Kannan, our watchman, asks.
I stare at him for a while. Being a relatively new tenant in that flat, I still was not very familiar with the maids and watchmen around. Preferring not to notice my hesitation, Kannan continued: "Amma, people say you work in a newspaper organisation...," his voice fades. By now I've predicted what he was up to. "Yeah anna. But there are no vacancy in our organisation. Probably, I will check out elsewhere," I assure him. Kannan doesn't seem to have appreciated my assurance. He still stares at me and finally seem to have mustered courage. "Amma, how much it would cost to publish an ad in your paper?"
I explain to him that I did not know about ad rates but give him the numbers to contact and prepare to leave. Instinctively, I turn back to ask him what was the matter. Tears begin welling up in his eyes. "My son is missing," he chokes and the rain drops kept lashing at his bony chest ruthlessly. "When was it?" I ask, still trying to find a word to console him. "Ten days ago, amma. I slapped him for failing in his exam. He left home fuming. I expected him to turn up for dinner. But till now he did not," he says.
"Why didn't you register a police complain?" the journo in me, crops up. "I have amma. But no use. My wife is working in Dubai. I don't dare to tell her that her son is missing. I have two daughters, who are all bread-winners of our family. We were quite happy when my wife delivered a son. Now I wish my third one was a daughter too ," he wept.
Rajesh, I thought, hasn't been all that mean. After all, he might not have been aware of Murphy's law - whatever can go wrong, will." So, what's gender to do with it?
P.S: Kannan's son returned after a couple of days.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

'Harry Potter and the Indian Media'

I know it had taken a really long time... but the near-to-a-year gap has actually done me a lot of good.. for, i've found how bugging it is to lay your hands on the keyboard to post a blog after filing a whole chunk of reports.. two, this has shot up my respects to my fellow blog-loving journos.. now guess what made me to turn to my long-lost blog?
It is the next set of whole hype and hoopla of media that has zeroed in on a single person, soon after Rajini's Sivaji. Kids stay off! You might get offended. The 'potter-mania,' a term that surprisingly sustains its freshness despite the 10-year woeful overdose usage of the media, is what i'm talking about.
"10-million dollars for anti-piracy works.." "two million copies pre-ordered.." "646 pages released.." Ooof, give us a break..
But of these eternal PTCs (Piece To Camera is a proud journo-jargon, which means nothing but speaking before camera) on how Potter made people wait in tenterhooks and whether J.K. Rowling follow the good-old Sherlock Holmes style of killing Harry and bringing him back after a popular demand, one report in a private news channel stood apart.
That said, don't let your admiration level soar for the pretty reporter (man, she was really skinny), who came up with an exclusive story on Potter's climax.
Everytime the news anchor shot her a question after minutes of 'mmmm and aaahhs,' the Potter-maniac reporter maintained that people weren't bothered about the leak of the climax. Well, she just doesn't stop there. With a sweeping gesture, she declared, "Everyone knows what is in the Bible. But it still remains to be the best-selling one. That's how Harry Potter is."
Now, don't start scoffing her before hearing her confession. "No, I'm not comparing Bible with Harry Potter. I just meant to say Potter sales wouldn't be affected by piracy and internet releases."
Woefully, it wasn't hilarious but annoying to the few among the many who turned on the channel. It was so apparent but didn't actually hit many. It's difficult, you know.. To first take eyes off from the stunning reporter and to listen how she was screwing up the whole stuff.
Well, that's journalism for you folks. But I thank her for breaking my year-long-blogging silence. I will come with more frequent insider updates.