Vinod Mehta is one of the most respected editors in India, known for his honest and outspoken style. It comes as no surprise to anyone, then, that his memoir Lucknow Boy, has both these qualities in abundance. It certainly makes for interesting reading, as in a career spanning more than four decades, he has edited Debonair, revived ailing newspapers and set up publications like the Sunday Observer and Outlook. He has also had some of India’s most respected journalists — like Tarun Tejpal, founder of Tehelka, and Manu Joseph, editor of Open — working under him in the past. So what can one expect from the memoirs of a man who travelled the world, met celebrities and often found himself in the middle of controversies? Carrying the burden of so much to talk about, the book nevertheless lives up to expectations. When dealing with his personal history, Mehta has not shirked from turning the mirror on himself, even when it shows an uncomfortable truth. One extract from the text says, “My daughter must be in her mid- 40s now, probably a mother, which makes me a grandfather. I have no idea where she lives, what she does, what she thinks of me. I have often tried to imagine her and in this reverie I have prayed that perhaps through some happy accident our paths might cross. It hasn’t happened yet.” The first part of the book is dedicated to his early years as an army brat — thus a ‘Lucknow Boy’ — and friends and family generally. These subjects are handled with affection and sensitivity, giving warmth to the book. From these regular beginnings and after a less than stellar academic performance, Vinod Mehta heads out to London. These were formative years for the young man as he devoured the English press, refined his perspective on international events — and of course, had the occasional fling. In 1970, he made his way across Europe and the Middle East (with a group of hippies headed for Goa) to return to India. Perhaps the most eagerly awaited parts of the book deal with the many vagaries of his professional life. Coming from a man who has been at the forefront of journalism in India, every incident holds intrinsic value for readers. The book also delivers a sense of being part of the inner circles and gives the reader a delicious sense of being a fly on the wall when major events were unfolding. People expect wit, scandal, gossip and insight — and they are not disappointed. Mehta recounts with zest how he was wooed and then sacked by various media houses as editorial freedom clashed with political pressures. There are gripping accounts of his encounters with personalities from the worlds of politics, business, films and the media. The names flowing through his pages include Shobhaa De, A.B. Vajpayee, V.S. Naipaul, Salman Rushdie and Sonia Gandhi. (Lest we forget, Mehta’s dog, Editor, also finds pride of place in the book.) There are behind-thescenes looks at the ever-fascinating scoops — from the alleged mole in Indira Gandhi’s cabinet, to the cricket match-fixing scandal, to the Niira Radia Tapes. This section of the book can perhaps be accused of giving us increasing glimpses into current affairs while being a bit reticent about the author’s own motivations and errors.

However, that is easily overlooked as his refreshing honesty, entertaining pen-pictures of known personalities and fearless look at how journalism works, more than compensate for any other lapses. Take this extract, for example, where he talks about first coming across the Radia tapes: “ Did we have the spunk to take on some of the most powerful individuals, corporate houses, lobbyists, politicians, journalists in the land? I would be lying if I said commercial interests did not concern me.” Of course, they did eventually run with the story. Lucknow Boy is a delightful read. Anyone, from an average Indian to aspiring journalist, will find it riveting. Vinod Mehta’s crisp prose gives the book a simplicity, while the insight and provocative opinions give it depth. It is, quite simply, an interesting story well told.