“If life could be divided into chapters the most exciting bit would be launching The Sunday Observer. The idea of a Sunday newspaper was one that no one had attempted before. We had the feeling that we were breaking new ground—exciting! Did we know it would work? Of course not! No editor or proprietor knows for certain if an idea would work. And in the print media world ‘working out’ does not mean critical success alone. It should make market sense, attract advertisements. But, we were ready and willing to give it our best shot,” says Mehta. This is what sets Mehta apart; his willingness to give everything his best shot. A Sunday paper, a girly mag, insisting upon an arts and culture page when people said it was a bad idea, think it would not work? Challenge accepted. His most intriguing endeavour, however, was the risque Debonair (1973). Surprisingly, Mehta’s Debonair days are also his most ‘difficult’. “The idea of semi-clad women on the centre fold was unthinkable. My biggest challenge was getting models. I believe that a majority of the photographs carried in those eight years were generally pretty awful, not because of the way they were shot, but because the women were pretty awful-looking. Sometimes we would get lucky and feature Katie Mirza, who had worked for Playboy before.” Mehta was, and remains, a master of packaging. He has successfully launched products that have a distinct freshness. “His endeavours had the right fine balance of political news, current affairs, international issues, opinion columns, film, sports and trivia and even sex,” adds BBC journalist Rajesh Joshi, while talking about his former boss in Outlook. Mehta’s first break at Debonair came when the Nawab of Pataudi agreed to be interviewed by him. “Like Playboy, Debonair had an interview section which spread over eight pages. But the magazine had such a sleazy reputation that most people would say an emphatic no. I wrote to the Nawab who was in Bombay and he agreed. Once people saw the treatment we had given to the story, it became a little easier to get the next person.” Easier but never easy. “People had a predisposed notion of what we had to offer. Serious journalists refused to acknowledge Debonair as a proper magazine. As for me, the women we featured were a part of the problem. On one hand we carried radically feministic features, on the other, we objectified women,” he says. Finally, he gave up. Today, Mehta does not believe a Debonair would work. The internet is just too full of pornographic writing and images anyway and such a mix of fluff and substance would not be accepted. Mehta moved to The Sunday Observer—his favourite child.

THE JOURNALIST’S EDITOR

 His dedication to work and his editorial team is evident from the passion with which he writes about both. While talking of the days at The Sunday Observer Mehta writes, “The paper consumed me. At night in bed I would be mentally strategising the next issue or revisiting a particular story. The few hours I was not at my desk, I was worrying about the paper. I would badger friends whose opinions I respected... with demands to point out weaknesses in the paper. The strengths I knew”. It is this dedication that often sets him apart as one of the greatest editors of Indian print media. “Every editor in this country will have his recipe of what makes a great editor. I believe editors should have an instinct to know rubbish from real gold. It is important for an editor to have a bull***t detector. At the end of the day, no editor works alone. So try to put the best possible team together, and be like the conductor (of an orchestra). An encouraging atmosphere in the newsroom is a must for a productive team,” he says. Good editors are also products of their times and the confidence they enjoy of proprietors. In Mehta’s career, the role of the proprietor has been cardinal. He has enjoyed cordial relationships with most of them—at Debonair, he enjoyed the confidence of Susheel Somani, the first proprietor to interview and hire him. The Sunday Observer’s Ashwin Shah is still a friend. Several of his stints have also been marked by conflict—more of them later. From the alleged mole in Indira Gandhi’s cabinet, to the Radia Tapes, to the cricket match-fixing scandals—Mehta has never been shy of unearthing scandals. And he has stood behind his team, always. “Ideally the job of a proprietor is to select a team and an intelligent editor who understands his vision. Then both get to hiring the right team relying on hunches and instincts—once you have the right person for the job, brief him or her well and let him or her be,” he adds. Mehta practises what he preaches. “The remarkable thing about him is that he doesn’t let his vision get blurred with preconceived notions about individuals or situations, which is not to say that Mehta does not have preconceived notions. He does. But they don’t always come in the way of his editorial judgment. What really impresses me is the transparency in his writing. He is forthright when he writes about himself, his days as an adman and an editor—even confessing his dishonesty in personal relationships. Once he wrote how he and Big Bee (columnist) used to frequent Bombay bars to pick up ‘boring girls’,” says Joshi.

The Bad THE LOOSE CANON

 Mehta has a dog called Editor. He has admitted to fathering a child with one his several girlfriends (he did not acknowledge her till he wrote his memoir). Recently, he was sued by The Indian Express for defamation—if there is someone who loves to ruffle feathers or make people flinch— it is him. He has courted controversies right from the start of his journalism days, The Sunday Observer. Its first story on the then-proposed National Centre for Performing Arts (NCPA)—The Mausoleum of Culture—was boycotted by the Tata Group, which was financing the endeavour. As an editor, Mehta stood his ground. After a lot of back-and-forth, the story was carried with a rejoinder from the NCPA. Mehta has always stuck to what he has genuinely believed in. If in the process he faced flak from proprietors, politicians, fellow scribes and aam admi (reader)—so be it! Articles on, and by, him end with colorful names left by his readers in the comments section. Samples; pseudo-pseudo secularist, rascal, and the hot favourite, chamcha. Most of these probably elicit a chuckle from the man who enjoys his work and lets it speak for itself. The editor-cum-journalist has been the proverbial loose canon. Thus, his views on regulation on the media come as a surprise. Note that Mehta was one of the few mediapersons who actually lent a patient ear to Justice Markanday Katju’s call for media regulation. Mehta believes in regulation, but one that comes from within and from colleagues. Not the statutory kind. “There is a need for accountability. One can’t have a free-for-all system. Then you will lose your viewers’ support. Which is something that the television media is fast finding out,” he says. Despite his frequent acerbic comments, Mehta is far from being a bitter character. In fact he seems at peace with himself and mellow when we meet him. He is careful to choose his words in the company of younger journalists. He is kind while talking about the importance of roles in journalism—however insignificant they might appear to be. “The space called media is a conflicted one. So, everyone should remember to act as a team. You, and lets say the brand manager, are a team. You and him are equally invested in your product. Both of you work for the same brand—always remember that. One should not assume lack of interest on his part. All assistance that you can give to the manager will ultimately help the brand. His ideas should be taken into account—having said that, a brand manager is not supposed to have any ideas on editorial matters,” he says about the increased corporatisation of the newsroom. “In my life I have not had problems with posts or designations, but with people, incompetent people.” He concedes that in spaces where the proprietor is also the editor, relationships do become problematic (“A proprietor should not intrude as he does not have the specialisation”) but he is not dismissive of that model either.

MOST SACKED EDITOR

 Mehta has often labelled himself as India’s ‘most sacked editor’. “Being sacked by a proprietor is familiar to me...Making a scene is not my scene. We have parted on generally friendly terms. I have never shouted at my proprietor; my proprietor has never shouted at me. Courtesy and good manners have been the hallmarks of the falling out.” This despite being unceremoniously shown the door by two proprietors—Vijaypat Singhania (Indian Post) and LM Thapar (The Pioneer). One of them took the time to remind Mehta that he was “not indispensable” and was a “manager”. And “just a manager”. “It was difficult to be a media baron at that time (1980s and 1990s), when businessmen had 95 percent interest in businesses apart from publishing. If they attacked the Centre, then their other business interests would suffer. And I do not believe that I fully appreciated this fact when I was young,” he says of his famous spats with two of the biggest proprietors of all times.

MEDIANAMA Mehta seems to be a worried man today. Not because of his health, which is frailer now. Nor about the future. Between his second book, introductions to his previous ones, regular Outlook Traveller meetings and television appearances, he remains really busy. What makes him uneasy is the state of the print media. “With the internet and TV, weekly news magazines have lost their salience. What was the whole idea of a news magazine? It was meant for the lazy reader who would not read his paper thoroughly. So, once a week he would pick up a magazine and get an idea of what was happening around him. With TV and internet, all general interest news magazines—be an Outlook or Newsweek or Time—are struggling. In the past week, we have been inundated by news of Mamata (West Bengal Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee). By the end of the week when a viewer is bored stiff with the news, how does a magazine present all the news in a fresh manner? That is the current challenge. What do you inject in the story? I have not found an answer.” Print media may be in a tight corner, but Mehta’s not spelling doomsday, as yet. Just because a concept does not work, one does not abandon it. One takes it up and polishes it. “Democracy is in trouble all over the world. Should we abandon it? There may be aspects in the democratic system that don’t work, but the system in totality is indispensable. Parliament may not work, but the courts by and large do. The executive may not, but elections do. I don’t think there is such a system where everything works in totality. We can simply pick up the pieces and make it all better.” Take that as a lesson coming from the Lucknow boy if you will.