Cheap travel, food and oodles of appeal—there is more to Bangkok than meets the eye Tell anyone you are going to Thailand and chances are you would get some lewd and leery looks, with comments to match. That’s a cross that the country bears, nay brandishes, with relish. For Thailand is best known as the kingdom of sleaze, a fact that often overwhelms the other charms that the country has to offer. It is also one of the most popular holiday destinations for Indians, given the ease and proximity of travel, the option of a visa on arrival and the fact that the Indian currency goes a long way there. I decided to limit my first trip to Phuket and Bangkok—one for the beaches and the other for what no woman can resist—shopping. There are no direct flights to Phuket, and both Thai Airways and Air Asia offer various daily options. From Phuket, speed boats and ferries can take you to Phi Phi Island and the beach made famous by Leonardo Di Caprio’s movie of the same name, if you wish to get even further away from the bustle of it all. A lot of us in India have become so used to including all our Southeastern neighbours in that group called the ‘developing countries’ that my first impression of Thailand left me quite surprised. So even if the taxi guy made me feel very much at home by refusing to use his meter and demanding an exorbitant sum to take me to the hotel, the drive itself revealed clean roads, orderly traffic, visible road signs and none of the chaos that you would associate with what was long called the ‘Third World’. Thailand can put India to shame as far as basic civic sense is concerned. Garbage is neatly collected, and even though it is no Singapore, the fact that the government has decided to co-opt street vendors into sharing the tourism boom by allowing them to peddle their wares in almost every nook and cranny, has ensured that you can dig into a baby sea horse or a fresh watermelon slice with wild abandon. Talking of baby sea horses, and this being my first trip to the exotic Far-east, sometimes it was difficult not to gag at the choices on offer in the various carts that line the streets and beach fronts. From fried centipedes to crispy grasshoppers, strange culinary delights lie neatly arranged in carts and trays, with some spicy accompaniments to go. Thankfully, every Thai meal is loaded with vegetables and, contrary to what one might expect, vegetarians are happy people here. That said, even though Thailand is crawling with tourists all year round, if you wish to hold a conversation that goes beyond “how much” and basic pleasantries, you have your task cut out for you. You are pleasantly greeted everywhere with the traditional Thai greeting Sawasdee Kha (or Khap, if the person offering the greeting is a man), uttered with musically- extended syllables. English spelling is definitely not their forte and shops proudly display signs for ‘chikin’ refusing to use his meter and demanding an exorbitant sum to take me to the hotel, the drive itself revealed clean roads, orderly traffic, visible road signs and none of the chaos that you would associate with what was long called the ‘Third World’. Thailand can put India to shame as far as basic civic sense is concerned. Garbage is neatly collected, and even though it is no Singapore, the fact that the government has decided to co-opt street vendors into sharing the tourism boom by allowing them to peddle their wares in almost every nook and cranny, has ensured that you can dig into a baby sea horse or a fresh watermelon slice with wild abandon. Talking of baby sea horses, and this being my first trip to the exotic Far-east, sometimes it was difficult not to gag at the choices on offer in the various carts that line the streets and beach fronts. From fried centipedes to crispy grasshoppers, strange culinary delights lie neatly arranged in carts and trays, with some spicy accompaniments to go. Thankfully, every Thai meal is loaded with vegetables and, contrary to what one might expect, vegetarians are happy people here. That said, even though Thailand is crawling with tourists all year round, if you wish to hold a conversation that goes beyond “how much” and basic pleasantries, you have your task cut out for you. You are pleasantly greeted everywhere with the traditional Thai greeting Sawasdee Kha (or Khap, if the person offering the greeting is a man), uttered with musically- extended syllables. English spelling is definitely not their forte and shops proudly display signs for ‘chikin’ But the cheap beer is wonderfully real, and is also served in convenient five-litre beer towers for the discerning drinker. Ask for a pint, and they’ll serve it to you in a ‘beer condom’, that fits snugly over the bottom of the bottle. Chang is the local brand and the best way to enjoy it is with steaming hot skewers that are charcoal grilled on small improvised scooter carts. Patong beach in Phuket—with its buttery soft sands—borders the bustling shopping area. It changes moods as the sun goes down, transforming itself into a nocturnal hub, offering everything from pole dances to some mind-boggling circus tricks performed by women in various stages of undress in ‘ping-pong bars’ that are a local variation of the go-go clubs of yore. Also unique to Thailand are the ‘ladyboys’, scores of men who have opted to cross over the gender divide, and many of whom work in regular jobs, while others can be found jostling with the crowds in stunning dresses and impossibly high heels. The sad part is that a nation that seems to have made smiling its national motto of sorts, masks disturbing socio-cultural trends, given that it is considered rather synonymous with sleaze. You see the obsession with it everywhere, from massage parlours that are open through the night and only accept male clients to carts selling every imaginable sex aid and performance enhancer’ possible, to girls as young as 13 or 14 teetering precariously in high heels or wielding numbers in a bar, as if up for a macabre auction. This, despite the fact that prostitution in Thailand is actually illegal! It’s difficult to remember that when standing in a bar where bikini-clad women bear numbers to be easily selected and whisked away from nightclubs by paying what is called a ‘bar fine’. There’s more of the same in Bangkok, with the famous ‘Cowboy Street’ in Sukhamvit and the redlight district of Patpong, which is also a great place to get some knock-offs at a bargain during the night market. Bangkok is a shoppers’ paradise, with malls that tempt you with their wholesale approach, where floors and floors are lined with imitation handbags, jewellery and designer clothes designed to reward the generous shopper with bulk rates. It’s easy to lose track of the bahts (Thai currency) in your wallet. The traffic in Bangkok is merciless, with jams that would put Mumbai or Delhi to shame. But hop into a ‘tuktuk’— Thailand’s answer to our auto rickshaws—and chances are you’ll beat a car to the same destination by half an hour! They’re not for the fainthearted as they weave in and out of traffic, making a mockery of speed limits and small engines. Bangkok is also home to some of the most beautiful Buddhist art and sculptures, which are tributes to different periods and styles. There is the magnificent and awe-inspiring ‘Reclining Buddha’—a majestic 160 feet statue at Wat Pho temple; the diminutive ‘Emerald Buddha’ at the Grand Palace and the ‘Golden Buddha’ at Wat Traimit that was legendarily plastered over and then accidently discovered to be made of gold almost two centuries later. If you do take the day-long Buddha tour, don’t forget to stop at the vibrant flower market near Chinatown and the even more famous floating market in the Ratchaburi Province. When you travel around Thailand, you can’t help noticing that the King’s picture is on billboards everywhere, playing the saxophone and doing countless other ‘cool’ things you’re less likely to see politicians in India publicise. In fact, when I commented to one of my guides that the Thais sure liked their King, she was quick to correct me and point out that the word I was looking for was ‘love’. The pride of the people in a monarchy they love is palpable in the pride they take in being Thais, no matter what their socio-economic strata. That, to me, was the most beautiful thing about Thailand, visible in the care that its people take to make sure you’re made to feel so welcome.
POLITICS \\ Union Finance Minister Pranab Mukherjee was named the UPA’s presidential candidate last month. The 77-year-old veteran politician’s name was announced by Congress president Sonia Gandhi at a meeting of Congress leaders and its partners DMK, RLD, NCP, NC and IUML. The decision came after a lot of speculation and chaos. West Bengal Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee and Samajwadi Party supremo Mulayam Singh Yadav gave a blow to the Congress after rejecting the proposed Presidential candidates and giving their support to Former President A.P.J. Abdul Kalam. While BJP was busy garnering support for PA Sangma, the Samajwadi Party minutes after the announcement of Pranab Da’s candidature expressed their undisputed support towards him. He gave in his resignation on June 26 and said that it was an “emotional moment” for him. The two presidential candidates have filed in their nominations, however with all the support Pranab Da’s getting the route to the Rashtrapati Bhawan seems like a cakewalk for him.
SPORTS \\ ‘King of clay’ Rafael Nadal and ‘comeback queen’ Maria Sharapova were crowned the French Open Champions in June. This is Rafael Nadal's seventh French Open title as he defeated the World No. 1 Novak Djokovic 6-4, 6-3, 2-6, 7-5 in a match that lasted for 50 minutes. Maria Sharapova who was sidelined in 2008 after an injury to her right shoulder beat surprise finalist Sara Errani of Italy 6-3, 6-2, to win her first French Open and become the tenth woman with a career Grand Slam. Nadal overpowered his opponent with his terrific groundstrokes. Djokovic who fought bravely lost his serve twice in the nine games played, while Nadal gave away only three points of his own delivery. There was a brief shower which threatened to drive players off the court during the fourth set, when the score was standing As Nadal went on a rampage and kept getting closer to the title as the crowd cheered the opponent, with the hope that they might be able to enjoy the fifth set showdown. Djokovic responded to the cheering crowd by playing more and more aggressively, trying to dictate points with his forehand, but he could not stop Nadal from bringing up the match point and finally winning the title. Nadal has won seven out of his eight French Open Championships, losing only one time to Robin Soderling. The Spanish Matador came back with vengeance in 2010, defeating Soderling 6–4, 6–2, 6–4 to win the French Open. His 2012 victory at Roland Garros marked the second time (2008) that Nadal had won the French Open without dropping a single set. The 25-year-old Russian tennis player Maria Sharapova’s future suddenly came in doubt after the shoulder surgery which kept her out of the courtyards for a long time. Sharapova won her first Grand Slam—The Wimbledon—at the age of 17. At the age of 18 she became the world No.1, when she turned 19 she won the US Open Championship and at 20 she was the Australian Open Champion. But after the 2008 injury her rank fell to 126. She did not play any matches from August 2008 till May 2009. In the little French that she had learnt in three months while she was away from her practice, Sharapova said, “It is a wonderful moment in my career.” She then switched to English and said, “I am speechless. It has been such a journey for me to get to this stage.” With a rebuilt shoulder she whipped big serves. Sharapova’s forehands and backhands fell right on line. Moving beautifully on the red surface she beat her Italian opponent and won her first French Open Title ever. The Russian star is a contender to carry the Russian Flag at the opening ceremony for the 2012 Olympic Games.
DEMISE// Legend Mehdi Hassan dies: Ghazal maestro who lent his voice to Patta Patta Boota Boota and Kab Ke Bichhare expired in June at the age of 84 due to multiple organ failure. The India-born, Pakistani Ghazal singer had been admitted to the Agha Khan Hospital, Karachi, and was kept on a ventilator.
MISHAP \\ A major explosion and fire broke out at the state-owned Visakhapatnam Steel Plant killing around 15 people. According to plant sources, the explosion occurred at the oxygen control unit near the steel melting shop at the Rashtriya Ispat Nigam Limited’s plant. While the cause of the explosion was not made clear, it was indicated that the blast could have been due to a technical ‘glitch’ at the unit and due to abnormal build-up of pressure within the unit. Nine people were declared dead on the spot and approximately 15 more people were injured in the accident. Six people were declared dead on the site, while three died on their way to the steel plant’s general hospital. Andhra CM N. Kiran Kumar Reddy expressed his “shock and anguish” over the matter and ordered an inquiry under the Factory Act. The joint chief inspector of factories will conduct the inquiry while the director of factories were also asked to look into the matter, according to Information and Public Relations Commissioner, R.V. Chandravadan.
SPORTS \\ Grandmaster Viswanathan Anand beat challenger Boris Gelfand of Israel in a nail-biting tie-breaker to win the World Chess Championships for the fifth time since 2007. Anand won the second game, and drew the other three, to win the title at the State Tretyakov Gallery. The finale ended 2.5-1.5 in Anand’s favour after a 6-6 deadlock in 12 games. This victory means that Anand will keep his crown till 2014, when the next World Championship will be held. “The match was so even that I had no sense of what shape the tiebreak would take. Right now the only feeling to have is relief. I am too tense to be happy, I am relieved,” Anand said in the post-match conference. The King had won his first world title in 2000 before winning three in a row in 2007, 2008 and 2010. Anand will get (approx) $1.4 million, 55 per cent of the total prize fund of $2.55 million, while Gelfand will get the remaining amount.
Citizens feel the heat as the oil hike hits hardPOLITICS \\ Petrol prices were increased by `7.50 a litre in May, leading to furore among automibile owners in all metros. The hike was inevitable as the rupee fell a record life low of `56 per dollar in May. State-owned oil companies decided to raise petrol prices by `6.28 per litre excluding local sales tax and VAT. With the taxes, the hike came to `7.50 per litre. Prior to the hike, petrol costs in the national capital was `65.64 a litre. Currently, it costs `70.24 per litre. Already, oil companies have informed the government about their need to increase the petrol prices by `4 at least. The last petrol price hike happened in November 2011even though the Centre had ‘decontrolled’ petrol prices in June 2010. The price of diesel, kerosene and cooking gas were also raise in June 2011. Stateowned oil firms lost a total sum of `4,860 crore on petrol sales at the end of the 2012 fiscal. Even after the price hike they are losing around `6.28 per litre on petrol. The petrol rates in various cities after the hike are: Delhi—`70.24 per litre; Mumbai—`76.45; Kolkata—`75.81 and in Chennai it is to be `75.40. Inflation also rose 7.55 per cent in May because of the rising prices of the petrol and vegetables.
To you, it could be the ‘idiot box’. But to me, growing up in a village (approximately) four kilometres off the coast of Balasore, Orissa, it was so much more. I first heard of a device called television while I was in school, as we read about it in class; about television’s history, its first programmes, etc. I remember being smitten by the box that ran on electricity—which was another wonder. The bulb and ceiling fan were alien devices that were not a part of my growing up years. Since my home also was half-a-kilometre from the sea shore, I did not care much about artificial coolers. I got to live in the ‘lap of luxury’ from 1988 when I joined my elder brother in Mizoram, simply put, there we had electricity. My elder brother was a professor of political studies at North-Eastern Hill University (NEHU). I was depended on him for my further studies. Though I was a humanities student, my brother’s association with NEHU enabled me to get into the university’s electronics department where I completed my diploma. Growing up without electricity, it was ironical that I took up electronics as a topic of specialisation. Perhaps that was the reason why I did what I did, in order to fill a gap left in my childhood. My diploma in electronics got me a step closer to my dream of eventually doing something in the television and media industry. At that time I did not know what I was meant to do exactly. But I knew that I was in love with the medium. It was this conviction which made me appear for tests for the Film and Television Institution, (FTII) Pune. There I concentrated on television, documentary and film making courses. Most of my life I may have spoken Oriya, but I have always taken the effort to learn new languages. In Mizoram, I learnt Mizo Twang and much later, made two documentaries in that language. I have loved challenges—if they made it sound hard, I had to do it. My admission into FTII was the final stop towards a fulfilled career in media and journalism. I loved the two main types of programmes that were shown on television—documentaries and teleserials. The first teleserial that I ever watched was Kachche Dhoop, directed by Amol Palekar. It which to be aired on Sunday mornings between 10am and 11am. In 1995, I entered the hallowed halls of Doordarshan. For most students it would have been a dream job. To me it was fruition of all my hard work, dreams, aspirations—it was a journey which began in Madanapore and ended in the capital of the country. There I was the producer and concept in-charge. I had arrived. Soon my colleague and I were commissioned to start DD Sports. Albeit I was not interested in sports, I took it up as a challenge. As I have said before—if it seems impossible then I love to take it on. I took the concept of a sports channel further. I incorporated new ideas—such as India’s first-ever morning aerobic and exercise programme. It became a rage and completed 150 episodes. It was in that programme that I introduced a relatively unknown model called Neha Dhupia as the anchor. She later went on to win the Miss India crown and became a Hindi film heroine. Though Doordarshan was great after a while I started to feel restless there. The work was becoming easier, predictable and there were less and less daily challenges. What I could do there, I had done. I had successfully launched a sports channel, I had several documentaries to my credit and had risen through the ranks. That was when I saw two advertisements—one of them asking for camera experts for a non-government organisation called Aina Media and Culture Centre. The centre endeavoured to strengthen civil society through education and empowerment of women and children. It also trained men and women in communication and information skills. It was fascinating to note that National Geographic Fellow and worldrenowned photojournalist, Reza Deghati, was the man behind Aina. The minute I saw the advertisement, I knew this was just the challenge I was seeking. But there was a problem. How would I convince my father? I had the cushiest job in Doordarshan. And there I was, dreaming of Afghanistan and making a new beginning in a war-torn nation. I took the easy way out—I lied. I informed my father that I was being sent off on an assignment and would be back in a matter of days. I have often regretted the lie—even though my father is rather proud of my choice today—but never the decision to pack up and go. Because Aina has been the biggest adventure that I have ever had. Aina began operations in Kabul exactly three days after the Taliban regime fell and till date, it has trained some 1,000 women and men in media and communication skills. I believe that we have been fortunate enough that more than 90 per cent of our employees have found meaningful employment. The organisation also runs eight publications—two for women and one for children. We regularly shoot documentaries and short feature films. One of our short features produced by an all-female team (a first in Afghanistan) was nominated for an Emmy in 2005. My first assignment in Aina was to train apprentices in video photography. I remember when for the first time an all-women camera crew visited a rural area to film, there was a mild furore. But it all died away as they became more and more familiar with the sight of us. My trainees and I meant business. The team of women were dedicated to their tasks. As time passed, and I became more involved in Aina’s functions, my colleagues encouraged me to use my expertise—direct teleserials in this country. Before I embark on that story, a little needs to be said about Afghan people. Irrespective of which part of the country they may come from—all love a good cry. That is why Bollywood and Indian television serials have such a presence in that country. They adore the good-versus-evil theme. To them, a family is equally important. They love the exaggerated rituals, rows, drama and joy of Indian television and the silver screen. So, my team and I conceptualised the first teleserial as a family drama. The core subject of women emancipation is a hard story to narrate in any patriarchal society—it was doubly difficult in Afghanistan. We coated the bitter pill with laughter—my team and I decided to make a comedy. We thought about using the struggle of a woman doctor to drive home the point of emancipation among male and female viewers subtlely. People always ask me whether it is very difficult to work in Aghanistan—I say a yes and a no. Language poses a problem. I was not familiar with the several dialects of the country as I am now. At the beginning the citizens were wary of strangers like me. And then, there were the ‘difficult’ people. But such problems exist everywhere— I would have faced them all over the world. Instead of mulling over the negatives, one needs to see beyond; lessons that this war-torn country offers to everyone willing to lend a sympathetic ear. It is inspirational to see people fight for their freedom of expression every day. The stories inspired me to write my latest teleserial— Palwasha, which means the sun’s first rays. I thought of it laying on my bed, watching the rising sun and hearing the day’s first azan. Granted, making a teleserial in Afghanistan is not easy. One needs to be mindful of religious sensitivities. Despite problems when we get the viewers’ endorsement—it is that much sweeter. And Palwasha, the story of a woman who rises to be a lawyer fighting for women’s rights, has received that stamp of approval. We have not dumped a ‘dull story’ on our viewers. The story is about the need to trust a legal system based on Shariat and Quran laws. Like Indians, Afghans too resort to kangaroo courts for quicker settlement of local matters. Our message is hidden under layers of masala— music, action replays, reverberating dialogues, tears and tense drama. As I said earlier, Afghans love a good cry. So far, Palwasha has been aired in Dari and Pashto with 40 per cent of the funding coming in from Usaid. We have cast Mumbai-based actor Sonal Udeshi in the main role. We also flew in our technical, make-up and sound teams from Mumbai. The popularity of the three teleserials produced and directed by us has taken us by surprise. Only 10 to 15 per cent of Afghanistan has electricity being produced from hydroelectric power. For those who don’t have supply, homes and TVs are run by diesel generators. Yet, Kabul stops when these serials come on air.
“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.
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.
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.
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.
Kickstart your own firm with help from these cool portalsPsst—got an idea for a product that you think will change the world? If you’d met me a couple of years ago, I would have introduced you to a couple of VCs or angel investors and wished you luck. Luck that you’d need to convince big investment institutions that you’re worth it. Enter Kickstarter, a modern twist on the concept of funding, one that is so alluring that it has convinced more than a million folks to pledge more than a $100 million to back ideas both big and small. The concept behind the Kickstarter’s crowd-funding model is simple. All it needs is a simple project description, accompanied by a pitch video that aims to sell your idea to the masses. You do need to specify ‘rewards’ for pledge levels on the site—what will different levels of dollar contributions mean to your investors—along with a funding goal and a timeframe for your project. Once it is vetted by the Kickstarter staff and approved, your project is live. Hit your funding goal and patrons get their reward—depending on the value of the contribution, it could range from a commemorative limited edition version of your product to a thank-you card or stickers. Miss your funding goal in the specified timeframe and no one’s card gets charged and you don’t receive any funds. If the approach seems a tad all-or-nothing, it probably is. Consider the benefits though—you avoid wasting thousands of dollars in R&D costs and in manufacturing unproven products. You can know upfront whether your concept aligns with market needs, and by combining tweaks based on feedback by public donors, you could create a much more bankable product on day one. Folks who pre-order your product provide the working capital you will need to sustain production, and above all, donors feel more emotionally invested in the end result. The real beauty about this approach is that unlike traditional funding, you continue to own the end product without diluting ownership of your organisation. Sites like Kickstarter are just one instance of the new micro-economies forming around the world today that let individuals exchange economic value sans the conventional institutions that have so far routed the flow of money. Another example is Pubslush, a social publishing platform for aspiring novelists. Authors can upload a 10-page excerpt along with a pitch. If the book garners a thousand followers or more, Pubslush will publish the book. Think about what Pubslush achieves—not only does it publish work that may have otherwise been shunned by big publishers (thereby rebooting the entire talent discovery process), it puts more revenue into the author’s pocket, courtesy lower overheads and subsequently higher royalties. Yet, the discussion around micro-economies is not solely around funding a concept, a product or a book. It could be just around the concept of sharing or subletting space you have available, as is the case with Airbnb. Say you are attending an event in Oslo, Norway, and you need an economical place to rent instead of a hotel, Airbnb is the place to go. Airbnb lets home and property owners list (for free) their property—maybe it is that extra bedroom in the converted garage, or the whole house if they choose on the site. Travellers can pick from over 100,000 active listings in 192 countries, depending on what they are comfortable with paying. And before they book, vacationers can read reviews about their hosts (and vice-versa) based on previous Airbnb experiences. From the booking system to the payment everything is handled via Airbnb, who charge a transaction fee per booking. Budget hotels are justifiably nervous already. They should be—Airbnb is now the world’s hottest hotel chain, and all this from just a bunch of spare rooms. Impressive, to say the least. But what makes these micro-economies tick? And more importantly, why now? The internet’s been around for well over a decade, hasn’t it? Why then have these models only flourished in the recent past? Now, as with any marketplace, there is a huge element of trust involved, trust that is based on knowing the reputation of the prospective seller. But it is only recently that we have finally been able to search for a tonne of background information on practically anyone by searching Google, LinkedIn and Facebook, or as some describe, the internet of people. With that trust hurdle crossed, what is to stop end consumers from directly determining the true value of a product or a service in other market segments as well? Micro-economies are here to grow, and it’s only a question of which industry they will disrupt next.