As a fellow sufferer in the noble profession of writing, I have been watching the great national excitement over General Naravane’s book with mild amusement and the occasional longing to peep in at liquor shops and stare at Officer’s Choice and Old Monk, marketed as the preferred refreshment of men in uniform, presumably consumed in army messes before anyone lands in an actual mess, like the good general might be thinking he has gotten into.
But I do believe, the debate seems to have galloped off in every direction except the one that matters.
Did the General write it?
That is the only question worth asking.
When I submit a manuscript to a publisher, the editor, does not ask whether the courier boy tampered with my commas. Nobody files a complaint against my laptop manufacturer. Nobody interrogates the WiFi router. The only thing that matters is this.
Did I write what I wrote?
If the General sent an email with certain thoughts in it, then let us see the original email. Simple. No national drama required. No prime time shouting matches. No emergency panel discussions with five men speaking at once and the anchor with a name rhyming with Doorknob, shrieking.
Instead, what do we get? A hunt for the leaker. A hunt for the publisher. A hunt for the opposition leader.
It is as if someone has discovered a cracked mirror and instead of looking at their own reflection, they are trying to arrest the glass.
Blaming the publisher for publishing is like blaming the postman for delivering a letter. He did not write it. He merely brought it to your door and rang the bell. If you do not like what is inside, you cannot confiscate his bicycle.
And this business of targeting Rahul or whoever commented on it is equally baffling. Since when did asking a question become treason? The opposition’s job is to oppose. If they stop doing that, they will have to open a bakery in Italy.
The real issue is content. If the General’s original submission contained those thoughts, then the ruling party must address them. Not the leak. Not the timing. Not the conspiracy.
The thoughts.
If the thoughts are incorrect, say so. If they are misunderstood, clarify. If they are inconvenient, well, that is the price of democracy.
We have developed a curious habit in this country. When something uncomfortable appears, we look for the cameraman. We blame the microphone. We accuse the printing press.
But the message remains standing calmly in the middle of the room.
Do not shoot the messenger. It only proves you have run out of arguments.
Dear Treasury benches, courage is not measured by the decibel level of your evasive techniques. It is measured by your willingness to face the original words and respond to them with truth.
Now, may someone please produce the email and let the poor General go back to writing his next book…!
The Author conducts an online, eight session Writers and Speakers Course. If you’d like to join, do send a thumbs-up to WhatsApp number 9892572883 or send a message to bobsbanter@gmail.com
