Gitanjali Aiyar: An Icon of Bygone Era

 

In this era of screaming TV anchors and high-decibel debates that resemble a bout in a wrestling ring, the passing away of Gitanjali Aiyar reminded us of far more dignified, though somewhat staid, times of television news in India. Those were the early days of television news in the country and unlike a newspaper reporter or a radio newsreader, a TV newsreader has a face, and viewers were getting used to this novelty of seeing them regularly in their living rooms.

Gitanjali Aiyar, along with Neethi Raveendran, Minu, Komal G.B. Singh, Rini Simon, Preet K.S. Bedi, Suneet Tandon, Tejeshwar Singh and others became household names in the 1980s, when Rajiv Gandhi government went on an overdrive to spread the footprint of the country's lone television network Doordarshan across the country. TV towers were getting inaugurated on a daily basis in every other district, and it was seen as part of Rajiv Gandhi’s vision to take India to the 21st century.

For the viewers, this sudden burst of visual treat was very alluring. So far he/she had to go to the nearest cinema hall for visual entertainment. Moreover, the TV offered much more: global sporting events like Olympics, Asian Games and live telecasts of cricket matches, all of which could be enjoyed from the comfort of your homes. It was also a great boon for the invalid and the aged who could not go to cinema halls.

Though the government succeeded in making the television hardware ubiquitous across the country, the programming part remained very Delhi-centric, and heavily skewed in favour of the Hindi language. Since the state-owned Doordarshan enjoyed a monopoly over the airwaves, viewers were actually a captive audience with no other alternative. Satellite television and dish antennas were yet to make an entry.

Amid all these limited offerings, there was a 20-minute English news bulletin at 9 pm, which many of those residing in the non-Hindi belt looked forward to. Those were pre-teleprompter days and news readers had the unenviable task of reading through the paper and maintaining occasional eye contact with the viewers.

With her crystal clear accent, lean build, and immaculate sartorial sense, Gitanjali Aiyar soon endeared her viewers. Women used to gawk at the saree she used to wear and compare them with that of fellow women newsreaders.

However, many people did not know that Gitanjali Aiyar was actually a Maharashtrian and her maiden name was Gitanjali Ambegaonkar. Hence, she sometimes used to trip while pronouncing some tongue-twister names of South Indian cities and their people. This used to roil those residing in the south of Vindhyas – how could an Aiyar pronounce Kozhikode or Thenmozhi wrongly? Some even used to shoot off angry letters to the editor in English dailies.

Being a government-run institution, Doordarshan news was a bland fare as it had to go by the sarkari rule book. What passed off as a news bulletin was actually a caravan of speeches, book releases, and planting of trees (all mainly in Delhi) by telegenic Rajiv Gandhi. Things like 'breaking news' or 'flash' were unheard of and there was a yawning gap between what we saw on television and what we read in newspapers and magazines. The latter appeared to be closer to capturing the rough and tumble of Indian politics.

Towards the latter part of Rajiv Gandhi’s tenure, the country was rocked by Bofors, Shah Banu case, Ram Janambhoomi, and other controversies, but Doordarshan managed to remain hermetically sealed from all the heat and dust it generated.

The entry of satellite television in the late 1980s began stirring things up. It provided a glimpse of what BBC or CNN television news looked like. The launch of homegrown news channels like Star TV News and vernacular offerings in the mid-nineties raised the bar. Soon Doordarshan news had fewer takers and it got relegated to an also-ran status amid a gaggle of newly-started TV channels.

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B. G. Verghese: An Embodiment of a More Dignified Era

While TV talking heads were recently splitting hairs over the appropriateness of timing of Dhoni's retirement, a famous journalist of yesteryears quietly 'passed away' causing a minor blip in the media's radar - a mere mention in the ticker of some TV channels and 'briefly' column in the inside pages of newspapers. For many even in the media it was B.G. Verghese who?
 
It may be upsetting to some, but not very surprising as the type of journalism Verghese and his peers practised is now a lost genre. It was far more nuanced, sober and shorn of present day narcissism and shrillness of 24/7 media. News reports were free from editorialising (it was strictly the domain of edit pages), glib packaging and of course paid news.
 
While in the mid 1970s journalism was subjected to a litmus test under Emergency, Verghese was one of the few honourable exceptions who did not 'crawl when asked to bend'. As Hindustan Times editor he was given marching orders for criticising Emergency. In fact for the HT management it was the proverbial last straw – they were itching to do so after he had earlier criticised India’s annexation of Sikkim. 
 
In the early eighties when I started exploring newspapers beyond cricket scores and comic strips to its far more rarefied spaces like edit and op ed pages, Verghese happened to be the editor of Indian Express. For India 1984 was a nightmare year starting with Operation Bluestar, Indira Gandhi's assassination and Bhopal gas tragedy. During anti-Sikh riots it was Indian Express which brought to limelight the infamous Trilokpuri massacre, thanks to some intrepid reporting by Rahul Bedi and Joseph Maliakan,  with Verghese backing them to the hilt.
 
After Verghese retired from Indian Express in 1986 he continued to be very active with his columns appearing in various publications and he was associated with Centre for Policy Research. He also penned some books and figured as member of various committees constituted by the government - probably the last notable one being the one to review Kargil war.
 
Though he always championed the cause of downtrodden his support for big dams raised many eyebrows. He had opposed the Narmada dam agitation spearheaded by Medha Patkar and even got into a long drawn but dignified debate with Arundhati Roy. He felt that despite displacement of population dams were beneficial in the long run.
 
With his demise and that of Kushwant Singh and M. V. Kamath recently, an era is drawing to a close. Kuldip Nayar and T J S George are probably the only notables of that generation who are still alive.

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Ten Commandments for TV channels

Justice Markandey Katju has stirred the media out of its glossy Page 3 comfort zone. Stung by his incendiary remarks, the Broadcast Editor's Association had come up with a set of 10 Commandments to be followed while covering the Aishwarya Rai's child birth. As I had read it first in a blog my first impression was that it was some sort of a spoof on TV jounalists. It is another matter that these days some of the real news events upstage spoofs in terms of hilarity quotient.
Coming back to the 10 Commandments, even a cursory reading would make one realise that the broadcast editors were indirectly admitting that whatever Katju had said in his interview was correct.
Conditions such as "no pre-coverage of the event; story of birth of baby to run only after, and on the basis of, official announcement; story not to run on breaking news band" actually seems like a desperate attempt to nullify the numerous sins of celebrity fixation it had committed in the past.
Another set of conditions - no camera or OB (outdoor broadcasting) vans at hospital or any location related to the story; go for photo-op or press conference if invited; not carry any MMS or photo of the child - shows the extent to which the visual media had gone over-the-top while covering similar events in the past. To me it seemed like Sunday school lessons being dished out to teenagers in a juvenile prison.
Probably the broadcast editors were badly smarting under Katju's invective on astrology coverage while framing the following rules: no astrology show to be done on this issue; no 11.11.11 astrology show to be done. Astrologers like Sunita Menon or Bejan Daruwala will wonder as to what went went wrong with their own stars!
The last commandment, of course, takes the cake: "unauthorised entry into hospital not permitted." When Big B was in hospital a TV reporter had barged into his room in nurse’s clothes! And now broadcast editors do not want a repeat of history.
I just hope the Bollywood's first family has a quiet outing at the Breach Candy hospital. But, will they be happy with TV hounds at bay, I have my doubts.
On the other hand I too have a niggling feeling that it would be very difficult for itchy TV cameramen and hysterical reporters to docilely wait for official confirmations. 
PS: Looks like channels like CNN-IBN were unusually quiet in announcing the arrival of Baby B and seemed to have obeyed the commandments.