A book that attempts to inject a gender perspective into journalism

Here's some advance information from Zubaan Books on a book that will be of great interest to all media students and also to journalists:

MISSING: HALF THE STORY
Journalism as if Gender Matters
Kalpana Sharma ed.
Zubaan Books
Pages 304; Price Rs.395

Toilets, trees, and gender? Can there be a connection? Is there a gender angle to a business story? Is gender in politics only about how many women get elected to parliament? Is osteoporosis a women's disease? Why do more women die in natural disasters? These are not the questions journalists usually ask when they set out to do their jobs as reporters, sub-editors, photographers, or editors. Yet, by not asking, are they missing out on something, perhaps half the story?

This is the question this book, edited and written by journalists for journalists and the lay public interested in media, raises.

Through examples from the media, and from their own experience, the contributors explain the concept of gender-sensitive journalism and look at a series of subjects that journalists have to cover -- sexual assault, environment, development, business, politics, health, disasters, conflict -- and set out a simple way of integrating a gendered lens into day-to-day journalism. Written in a non-academic, accessible style, this book is possibly the first of its kind in India -- one that attempts to inject a gender perspective into journalism.

• Kalpana Sharma is an independent journalist, columnist, and media consultant based in Mumbai. She writes regularly for several newspapers and websites on a range of issues including urban development, gender, contemporary politics, and the media. She was, until 2007, deputy editor and chief of bureau, Mumbai, of The Hindu. She has also written and edited several books and is a founder-member of the Network of Women and Media, India.

• Four other women journalists have collaborated on this book, edited by Kalpana: Laxmi Murthy, Rajashri Dasgupta, Sameera Khan and Ammu Joseph, who has written three of the chapters.

How the press can endorse a political party...

...and, at the same time, disparage the prime ministerial candidate of a rival party:

That's Britain's Daily Mirror for you, on the day the country goes to vote.

How well do you know your men?

Tehelka has this occasional series on Indian men, which the magazine began with this hilarious look at the contradictions in the Malayali male by Nisha Susan, the magazine's assistant editor.

Here is an excerpt:

(Yet,) seeking the typical Malayali man is a slippery affair. Each one looks out moodily and introspectively at you from behind varying amounts of facial hair. He’s sure he’s not typical, sure he’s misunderstood by his community. Simultaneously, he likes being Malayali and sure he’s the distilled Malayali, and others crude abominations.

Then came the dissection of the UP, or Uttar Pradesh, man by Annie Zaidi, the Mumbai-based writer and author, who brings up the three broad categories into which she cast the UP man when she was growing up:

White chikan kurta-clad sons of former zamindars who continue to rear pigeons and fly kites as a full-time occupation and sometimes carried guns, almost like a liability; the lean, inscrutable rickshaw-pullers/stone-breakers/gardeners; and the westernised, English-speaking intellectual. There was a time when, if a Hindi filmmaker wanted to create the character of a provincial intellectual, he would place the character in Allahabad — once known as the Oxford of the East. By the time I grew up, UP had cast off any intellectual pretensions it had and settled firmly into a mould defined by politics, caste and religion.

Now, in the issue of May 1, Tehelka holds a magnifying glass over the Marwari man. "Don't show me the money, show me your mummy" is the headline to Tusha Mittal's insider piece on a world that is easily recognisable if you're a Marwari, like Tusha, one of the magazine's principal correspondents. Here is an excerpt:

At his core, the Marwari man is a staid, almost docile, apolitical creature. Independent thinking has never been a good value. Asking questions is taboo.

 

That is why a good Marwari mummy was horrified when her 16-year-old boy declared he wanted to be a journalist: “I have failed to bring you up”. Soon, the trauma took on entirely new proportions. “English honours? Isn’t that what girls do?” That was the first time the boy realised what it means to be a Marwari man. (Unless 3/50 in Math counts as the definitive moment of truth.)

What has been deemed sacred in the Marwari home is “respect for elders” — a master stroke, a classic euphemism to ensure the old patriarchal values remain unchallenged and unquestioned. In the Marwari world, the daughter is merely an impediment in the quest for a son. A child of privilege, the Marwari man has always been comfortable with this status quo. “If the first child is a daughter, there’s a fear of what the second will be,” says Reshma Jain, editor of Marwar. If the second is a girl, try a third. If that fails, the bride and her chromosomes have clearly not understood the good values that prevail in Marwari society.

All these pieces are laced with humour and written in good faith. Even so, there seem to be plenty of home truths for readers to absorb and think about.

Here Kirti Bhotika (Class of 2008) gives us her reaction to the analysis of the Marwari man after I had sent her the link by email with my question: Anyone you know? Or recognise?

Hahaha! Pretty much the whole clan!!! Why do you think I am marrying a guy who's NOT a Marwari :D

Most of the article is absolutely true, Sir. But yes, things are changing. I have cousins who are working, (and no, they are not interior designers or fashion designers running a small boutique out of that extra useless room in their big houses) who are serious about their careers AND with the consent of not just their husband but the whole family! And I really admire those families. But yes, it is true that these kind of families would only be a small percentage. Another change that I have noticed is that Marwaris are happy if a girl is born - I must mention here that my father was overjoyed when I was born and distributed pots of rasgullas to the family, extended family, neighborhood, etc etc etc. :) What can I say, I am blessed! It's no longer a taboo when a girl is born in the family... There have been innumerable incidents of a son/sons betraying the father so finally it's dawned upon them that girls prove to be better in the long term. Yes! Girls rock! 

And Sir, among all the cons, I love the pro that we still are so attached to our culture and traditions - I don't know where else would one follow all of it, with so much pride. It's a lot of fun and binds us together, I wouldn't want to let go of it.

Yes, the weddings are bit show-off, but that can't be helped - our fathers believe, you got it or not, you flaunt it. Am not particularly happy about this...

Would just like to end with this - every clan/caste/religion has its own set of pros and cons and we should strive to accept the pros and change the cons as much as we can, for the progress of our society.

All valid points, Kirti. What do others have to say?

• The July 10 issue of Tehelka has Pragya Tiwari's illuminating piece on the Bengali man. Read it here.

It's rare to find a business story about Ekta Kapoor in Indian magazines or newspapers

And even more rare to find a well-written one. So it was a treat to read this excellent analysis of the trials and tribulations and, now, the comeback of India's soap queen in Forbes India. The authors, Saumya Roy and Deepak Ajwani, have clearly done their homework and, just as clearly, they have spent time with Ekta getting to know her, her style of functioning, her working relationship with her new CEO, Puneet Kinra.

Here are a couple of excerpts:

Impulsive decisions, once the norm at Balaji, have given way to thought-through processes. Former employees recall how shifts would run late into the night, when a last-minute phone call from her would require them to throw away the portions shot through the day and reshoot. 

Kapoor is no longer that capricious: “We’ve taken very strong calls that no last-minute changes are needed. If the script needs to be rechecked, then the script head, who we have now, rechecks the script after we write. No longer am I that involved with any one show that I’m making these night calls and changing everything.”

And then Puneet Kinra enters the picture:

She can’t do it alone. That’s why she brought in corporate finance professional Puneet Kinra to realign Balaji’s strategies and fix the operational irritants.

At first look, Kinra couldn’t be more different from Kapoor. He is the perfect foil for her creative, passionate self. This 38-year-old ex-PricewaterhouseCoopers hand is all about processes, risk management and cost control. But together, they seem to be evolving a formula to keep Balaji Telefilms a creative-focused but soundly managed entertainment enterprise.

Good writing makes good business sense, doesn't it?

• Thanks to Nilofer D'Souza for the tip-off.
• Photos courtesy: Forbes India

Reading CAN help your writing

Time Out Bengaluru, in my opinion, is the best "local" magazine in the city, for the writing, the editing, the headlines... the ideas! Take this review of the Zeus Sports Bar on Brigade Road in the latest issue.

Read the intro:

Manohar Crest is no Mount Olympus. If you’re in this building on Brigade Road, you will not, like Zeus, be able to cast your eyes upon lands far and wide, watching as Hades makes off with the white-armed Persephone. You might, however, spot someone barely escaping the maws of death – or the left front wheel of a BMTC bus, as Bangalore calls it – near St Patrick’s Complex.

The reviewer, Kankshi Mehta, knows a thing or two about Greek mythology so she's able to add that divine line about Zeus, and Hades, and Persephone. Isn't that clever?

Continue reading and you'll see more Grecian references, including this one:

And now, onto the food. If you’re a vegetarian… well, there really is only one way to put this, and in order to do so, one must turn one's attention to a scene from that iconic insertion of Greek mannerisms into popular culture, My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Here, Toula Portokalos’s suitor, a vegetarian, is being introduced to the family, and this is what transpires: Toula: “He doesn’t eat meat.” Aunt Voula: “What do you mean he don’t eat no meat?” Stunned silence in the room. Aunt Voula; “Oh, that’s okay. I make lamb.” Okay, it’s not that bad, but still, vegetarians get slim pickings at this bar.

And the flourish at the end:

Opa!

Here is a definition of opa:  A Greek word that may be used as an ‘exclamation’, or ‘utterance’, or ‘declaration’, or ‘affirmation’ or a lovingly gentle way of telling you to ‘Stop’ ... depending on the situational context. It is a word or pronouncement of celebration; the celebration of life itself.

Kankshi Mehta is one well-read journalist who's also well-versed in popular culture and what a difference it makes! Agree?

• Also read: "If you don't read, you can't write".

All hail The Caravan for giving us...

...some marvellous reads in the latest issue. There's hardly any magazine in India that opens up its pages wholeheartedly to long-form journalism, so those looking for something substantial to sink their teeth into, in a manner of speaking, will gladly devour the May issue.

Look at the treasures on offer:

1. Who the Foucault Stole My Cheez?
A brief but wildly satirical and clever piece by "Timothy Paperphadkar" on the dead-end nature of academic seminars.

2. Paperback Messiah
Who doesn't know (about) Chetan Bhagat? And which young person hasn't read at least one of his books? No hands going up? That's not at all surprising considering India's most popular author in terms of sales has become a youth icon in less time than you can say 2 States: The Story of My Marriage. 

Here Srinath Perur immerses himself in Bhagat's world to learn what it is exactly that the banker-turned-writer has done to get millions looking up to him as their role model.

Here are some excerpts:

Bhagat has said he thinks of himself as 90 percent entertainer, ten percent reformer. This mix ensures that his novels occupy a strange literary register, one in which stories dealing with social concerns are written using the conventions of pulp fiction. In the tradition of pulp, Bhagat’s books employ linear plotlines, simple language and short sentences. Readers speak fondly about how quick-paced Bhagat’s books are and how they never get boring, something achieved by never requiring the reader to pause. Characters do not aspire to the complexities of realism, but are constituted of a few clearly defined characteristics in rough accordance with which they behave. They often behave in disjointed fashion, hurtling along from one mood to the next before the reader’s attention can wander. And they never respond to situations in nuanced ways which might require the reader to pause and reflect; their responses are clearly communicated through word, gesture or expression. To whatever extent possible, plausible stereotypes are employed over fresh and telling detail, freeing the reader from having to rely too heavily on the text. Events in the books can sometimes take melodramatic turns, and depending on what one is used to, this can require a significant ability to suspend disbelief.

*

Interestingly, none of the Chetan Bhagat readers I interviewed seemed particularly aware of any larger message or intention in the books. Kavitha Gopinath, an ardent Bhagat fan, works for a telecom company in Bengaluru and was an enthusiastic audience member at the launch of 2 States. She says about Bhagat, “For me he’s the ultimate entertainer. His books are effortless to read.” Asked about the larger significance of his books, she says, “Honestly, I didn’t realise there was any. It was only when he spoke about it during the launch that I went, ‘Oh. Okay.’”

Read the article in full here.

3. Tales from the Indian Fish Trail
A detailed investigation by well-known journalist Samanth Subramanian into the controversial Hyderabad fish cure. In the great tradition of the old New Journalists, Subramanian also volunteers to swallow the "miracle" fish live so that he can write about the whole experience:

And then, suddenly, it was my turn.

The most disconcerting moment of the entire process was a few seconds of stasis, when Harinath held the fish up, medicine gleaming in its mouth, and I stood with my mouth open as if it were the Eucharist wafer, dimly aware that I could still twist away and run. Then the stasis broke, and Harinath’s hand, full of fish, was in my mouth.

From all the first-hand observation that evening, I must have somehow learned how to swallow right, because the fish went down, tail first, much easier than I expected. It was slippery and small, and although I felt an initial tickle, I think it had expired by the time it was a third of the way down my throat. Right away, though, I realized that it wasn’t the fish that was making people retch; it was the asafoetida, so strong and vicious that tears started in your eyes in that very first second. Then, as it slid down, it burned such a trail of further pungency down your throat that your hair stood on end and your fingers clenched involuntarily. Eyes still streaming, I grabbed at a bottle of water behind Harinath, although somehow, my mind had inscrutably fixed on its own preferred solution to the asafoetida’s pungency: fresh-cut mangoes.

These paragraphs appear towards the end of the article, but the whole piece is bursting with lustrous writing.

4. His Personal World of Sound 
An entertaining profile of Vijay Iyer, the jazz musician from India who's galvanising the New York music scene. I love jazz and I play it often in my car and at work but I would be stumped if I were asked to talk about what makes jazz "jazz". So I am grateful that the author, Akshay Ahuja, has helpfully given me a few pointers:

Today ... many no longer perceive modern jazz as a part of vernacular culture. As Iyer acknowledges, the music has become freighted, for whatever reason, with various anxieties. “There’s a certain kind of guilt factor that comes into play with jazz. People will be like ‘I don’t know anything about jazz...therefore I don’t listen to it, or therefore I don’t want to pay attention to it.’ And part of it is that people feel obliged to be experts on it in order to listen to it.”

Part of the challenge of being a jazz musician today—or a painter or a poet, for that matter—is simply getting people to actively engage with the work and trust their response. “There’s no great mystery,” Iyer says. “It’s just about letting people in the door."

Like most improvisational arts, jazz gains immeasurably from being experienced live. Every musician produces sound not just with an instrument or a set of vocal cords, but with the entire body. A melodic phrase can be formed with the motions of a pair of hands, its rhythms accented by the slide of a foot. As Amiri Baraka wrote of Thelonious Monk, “The quick dips, half-whirls, and deep pivoting jerks that Monk gets into behind that piano are part of the music, too. Many musicians have mentioned how they could get further into the music by watching Monk dance, following the jerks and starts.”

Brilliant! Do read the article in full.

*

Media students will also benefit from reading about NREGA, India's landmark welfare scheme, which is the cover story in this issue. 

Also, there is a highly educational feature on the latest game the big boys (and girls) play: carbon trading.

Sadly, the computer screen is not the ideal medium in which to enjoy long-form journalism. So if you can, buy this month's issue of The Caravan to savour the goodies. (For those at Commits, a copy has been placed in the college library.)

• Also read: "The man who has proved — literally — that journalism is an art form". 
  

LONG-FORM JOURNALISM SITE
If you are looking for more in the way of long-form reads, here is a site that's right up your alley. The editor, Aaron Lammer, sent me an email this morning after he came across The Reading Room while, he says, he was looking for Indian long-form journalism pieces. 

At Longform.org, the editors "post articles, past and present, that we think are too long and too interesting to be read on a web browser. We started this site to bring together our enthusiasm for both great longform reads and the excellent Instapaper reader".

Check it out here and see for yourself what the Instapaper reader is all about.

How do you write about personal experiences?

Especially when they leave a bad taste in your mouth and smack of racism? Here's a young Guwahati-based journalist writing in Tehelka on his encounter with a Delhi landlady:

“Oh, you guys are Manipuris?” She intended a rhetorical question but wound up reiterating the popular geographical lessons that ignorance has taught her — along with probably another three-quarters of the population. The northeastern states have been muddled and shuffled to form this mess, stripping all civilisational peculiarity that is natural.

To read the article in full, go here.

If you want to be healthy...

...a lot depends on you and your attitude towards a healthy lifestyle, says Madhuri Ruia, a nutritional and Pilates expert who writes a column called Diet Desk in Mint.

According to Ruia, there are three types of mindsets that prevent people from taking a step towards a healthy lifestyle:

The “definitely, maybe” attitude: You have definitely decided to become healthy but keep postponing the day when you will start implementing the changes. It will be the first Monday of every month and...that Monday never comes.

The “It’s just one life...” attitude: So why bother? You believe that this soup, salad and exercise routine is just too restrictive. The health craze is a fad that is bound to get shelved sooner or later. After all, people you know have managed to stay healthy on a paratha, pastry and party-till-you-drop lifestyle.

The “It all comes back again” attitude: It is better to stay fat than diet and exercise. After all, once you stop the diet, the weight will all come back with a vengeance.

Many young people today fall into one or the other of these categories. But I believe if you push yourself just a little every day you can work wonders, whether it is your health or your career.

When I began running on a treadmill at The Zone Mind and Body Studio in Koramangala eight years ago, it took all my willpower to run at a stretch for... five minutes. But I kept at it and gradually I was able to run for 20 minutes without a break. Then I began experimenting with the pace and also the distance. Finally, totting up 2 miles or 3.2K in 20 minutes at 6 mph (9.6K per hour) became a breeze.

Now I find a 20-minute run is very easy but, at 51, I find it difficult to maintain the 9.6K-per-hour pace from start to finish, so I have opted to go for distance. Yesterday, for example, at the gym in our apartment complex, I ran for 45 minutes without a break at the average speed of about 9K per hour and notched up 7K, burning up more than 500 calories in the process. As I said earlier, if you push yourself, you can achieve miracles.

Back to the Diet Desk now. To brush up on your health attitude, and to learn how to motivate yourself, go here.

Why am I asking you to do this? Because the media industry expects you to work long hours and gives you very few opportunities for long downtime, especially if you're a junior. Your health, consequently, is going be a factor in how well you do in your career. So make time for it now when you're still young — 30-60 minutes a day, three days a week. I guarantee this will make a difference.

• Photo courtesy: Mint 

UPDATE-1 

Yesterday, a few hours after posting the item about the role of exercise above, I hit the treadmill at our gym. Normally, after a longish run, I take it easy the next day. But yesterday I wanted to see if I could push myself again and I went at it hammer and tongs. Starting at 9K per hour, I increased the pace gradually till, in the 31st minute, I was running at 10.2K per hour. I topped out at 10.6K per hour and in 32 minutes 18 seconds I achieved my target of 5K. (The video posted above was shot on April 8, 2015. I'm running at 9kmph and I covered 6.2K in 45 minutes.)

But, really, this is not a big deal for people who have been gymming for years. 

In fact, running 12K over two days can be likened to a speck in the cosmos if you consider the case of Ranulph Fiennes, the Englishman who, according to the Guinness Book of Records, is the world's greatest living adventurer. He is also the holder of several endurance records. Here's one that is simply astounding, no other word for it:

(FROM WIKIPEDIA) Despite suffering a heart attack and undergoing a double heart bypass operation just four months before, Fiennes, in 2003, carried out the extraordinary feat of completing seven marathons in seven days on seven continents in the Land Rover 7x7x7 Challenge for the British Heart Foundation. "In retrospect I wouldn't have done it. I wouldn't do it again. It was [nutrition specialist] Mike Stroud's idea". Their routes were as follows:

26 October - Race 1: Patagonia, South America

27 October - Race 2: Falkland Islands, "Antarctica"

28 October - Race 3: Sydney, Australia

29 October - Race 4: Singapore, Asia

30 October - Race 5: London, England

31 October - Race 6: Cairo, Egypt

1 November - Race 7: New York, USA

Originally Fiennes had planned to run the first marathon on King George Island, Antarctica. The second marathon would then have taken place in Santiago, Chile. However, bad weather and aeroplane engine trouble caused him to change his plans, running the South American segment in southern Patagonia first and then hopping to the Falklands as a substitute for the Antarctic leg.

Speaking after the event, Fiennes said the Singapore Marathon had been by far the most difficult because of high humidity and pollution. He also said his cardiac surgeon had approved the marathons, providing his heart-rate did not exceed 130 beats per minute; Fiennes later confessed to having forgotten to pack his heart-rate monitor, and as such does not know how fast his heart was beating.

• For more on the great man, go here.

UPDATE-2

Ranulph Fiennes is such an inspiration. If he can run seven marathons in seven days on seven continents, surely I can push myself to do that little extra every time I get on the treadmill. So yesterday, May 5, I gave it my all at the gym at our club. I didn't have a lot of energy at the beginning so I kept the pace at a steady 9K per hour. It took me a while — 53 minutes and 25 seconds to be precise — but, in the end,  I achieved my target of 8K, which is the distance from my home to Commits, and which takes me 25-30 minutes by car. I have done 8K on the treadmill before — once, many years ago. But this is the first time I clocked 20K in three days. It is gratifying to know that one can get better with age.

Thank you, Sir Ran!

The bureaucrat who had to resort to using foul language to get minions to do his bidding

The Open magazine issue of May 7 has at least two articles that are worth reading — one by an Australian writer on her experiences of life in Mumbai as the wife of an Indian man. In the other piece, also a first-person account, B. Ashok (pictured below), IAS, private secretary to a union minister, gives us the "B, C and D of governance". Here is an excerpt:

I called for the dictionary again and the librarian reappeared with his ledger in no time. But this time before he could speak out, I blurted out: “Bhen..Ch… D… do you need your job here or not?” Tears streamed down his face as the ledger disappeared and the dictionary made its appearance on my desk. (Hey presto, it works!) “Saaala, ainda mujhe lecture mat dena (Scumbag, don’t ever lecture me again).” Thus ends the first experiment with a resounding success.

 I can't recall ever reading a more revealing article by someone senior in government. To read the full piece, go here.

• Photo courtesy: Open

On marrying a "brown man"

I have always wondered about the ramifications of a white woman marrying an Indian man and choosing to live in India. How does she tackle the questions, the stares, the obsequiousness? Apparently the editors at Open magazine had the same thought and they commissioned an Australian writer in Mumbai to chronicle her feelings and share her experiences about being married to a "brown man" and living with him in India. Her article is both poignant and revelatory. Here are some excerpts:

How foreigners are regarded in India is a curious matter. Our white skin, and the belief that we have power and money, unwittingly elevates us to the top of the social hierarchy. Doors will open for me in India, while at the same time remaining closed for many Indians. Shop assistants will beckon for my attention,while ignoring other potential customers. Everyone wants to have a foreigner for a friend. I’ve lost count of how many times my neighbours have knocked on my door, asking me to meet every relative who visits them. They’re not interested in my husband, though.

*

My husband is neither loudspoken, nor imposing. As a result, he often gets mistaken as my guide. I  remember one day, I was shopping at a stall at the Colaba Causeway market in Mumbai. My husband, who’d been looking at something else, came up to me and asked how I was going. The stallholder turned to him, and roughly told him in Hindi to go away and not interfere in the transaction.

*

There have been ...occasions where my husband and I have visited the hotel rooms of male Indian friends staying in Mumbai, and it’s actually been inferred that I must be a foreign prostitute. The hotel staff did their best to prevent us from going to the room.

Read the article in full here.

• Photo courtesy: Open