Al Ngullie
Here’s a wise old saying to grey your brains out – journalists are no glamour depots. For the countless umpteenth time, I’d had the unsavory opinion from acquaintances and family members alike, that journalists live off the high-ends. That they are glamorous as much the vocation itself is. Why? Simple: power walks and all that comes with being part of the print media – the romance of danger and adventure, shoulder-rubbing with the high-and-mighty, connection, access to things the ‘common man’ wouldn’t even dream of and the likes. Yes, 100% right and correct and true – in America. Too bad the romance of ultra-cool that comes with being a journalist doesn’t apply where Nagaland’s concerned. Try me, baby, you wouldn’t wanna be me.
Highly advisable it is that we stop watching too much Hollywood B-flicks of journalists who tango around with a chunky cigarette or two, two white-hot blondes on each hand and a dazzling sports car to boot. Suddenly the grim reality of journalist’s welfare is a 120 Paan to last a seminar/function session; traveling in TB-friendly Autorickshaws; no chicks on neither side and hours and hours of sweat and sleep on the computer desk hunting down press release datelines. But well, no one’s to blame. Perhaps that’s the reason why your most beloved sweetheart will dump you like a bin of stale Anishi blob for a rich businessman. Eeeeeks.
Is it that bad? Well, the following paragraphs are my points of reference to press the argument why the world of journalism’s no big glitter, this side of Brahmaputra.
Bad hair days from morning
Here is the danger-and-adventure department: Wrestling with press releases and fighting back potential nausea at all the muck our people can at times churn out all in the name of “press release,” are enough to break your fighting spirit. Accusations and counter-accusations, rejoinders and counter rejoinders, clarifications and counter-clarifications, justifications and counter-refutations of the underground factions; constant squabbling and Blah-wars of associations and unions; everlasting Backward-Tribe-Advanced-Tribe complaints, We-Will-Take-Our-Own-Course-Of-Action ultimatums; this-Resigned-And-Joined-That-Party or Defected-And-ReDefected-To-This-That-Party press notes; empty, mechanical condemnation letters. Name your garbage, my dear fellow Naga. And you got it.
Of course, many Nagas still believe in all heart that newspapers are run by programmed robots and not by Editors. Honestly, my dear fellow-Naga citizen – for your information in case you are on the wrong side of the print – the Editor is in charge, in his prerogative, his power, in his discretion and in his everything whether this or that should go in this or that page and when as well. In fact, it is even his prerogative to reject a particular item – and no court or power in our sunny solar system has the right to question why. But, well enough that many of us are still yet to digest the dynamics of the media. This has led to many a loud phone call where the ego somehow outdoes the brains. Fortunately, my Editor and Managing Director are gentle, kind-natured persons and would desist from stooping so low as to force-educate the ignoramus on the functions of the print Media. Otherwise, our Naga underground factions won’t be the only ones tearing each others’ hairs out. That’s why, thankfully, The Morung Express never gets to have Bad Hair days tearing its nuts out. But with all journalistic busying, most of us in the office here do need a hair cut badly though – especially our beloved Managing Director who’d begun to look like John Lennon after a nasty adventure with the hair-gel. His poor wife was the one enduring the excruciating Tarzan-look. And what about my hair? Simply put, have you ever seen mountain thorn brush?
Audio assault and likened stinkbombs
Anyway, then there’s this sonic warfare soldiers of The Morung Express wage daily, over phone. Once, our dear, sweet, office reception assistant had the spluttering experience where a student leader threatened to ban this paper in his “jurisdiction” if his “press release” is not carried “tomorrow”, on the front page or something similar. No, don’t ask me what the “press release” was all about – there are other more important issues in our society like how Anishi or Bastenga or Axone can be best cooked. No wonder, the Fourth Estate is also referred to as the ‘Fighting Estate’ of the society. Fighting press releases and Print-It-Now-On-Front-Page intellectuals, that is. The customary rave-and-rant-and-shout demanding that a particular press item be published immediately is a regular affair in The Morung Express. And then there are the organizations, association/unions and others who dispatch their “press release” with the demand “We kindly request to publish this press release tomorrow and carried on the front page.”
Sigh…when will we Naga newspaper-readers ever realize that on any given day in any newspaper, literally hundreds of press releases, notes, notifications, circulars coupled with investigative stories and features are handled…? I believe that each of us, who write to a newspaper, believes that a newspaper Editor waits eagerly for us to dispatch this whatever they call that garbage.
There are those who get the hots over the phone. These combative phone calls we receive almost everyday – “It is very urgent” most callers would assert in their most important I’m-This-Or-That-Of-This-Or-That-Organization tone and voice. “So print my press release tomorrow…on front page.” Doesn’t matter if the “press release” is a note extolling superlative ‘thanks’ to someone for cutting some red ribbon as chief guest or just another condemnation note which would drown without trace into oblivion. It is still front page and is always urgent.
And oh yes! There are these annoying lot: Those who submit a press release and complain that it was not carried (of course some of these educated have not the faintest sense to know that a newspaper is not a public bulletin board where everyone gets to paste their press releases – there is the Editor to decide on this). Anyway, the most fascinating part is that many of these press release people would come in and rant and scream like some demented drunken Golden monkeys, because the press release was not carried. Then our office assistant would go through the issues and there, the story is there! The scientific conclusion: Apart from writing feather-brained, nonsensical “press release,” many of us also don’t know how to read. Or worse, they expect their “press releases” to be carried exactly as they’d written with the exact note headings they submitted! Conversant and advanced? Ha! My smelly foot!
Then there are some of these high-toned guys from tribal organizations. The ongoing delimitation ruckus had us flooded in press releases. One person called up to accuse this paper of being “biased” because “all newspapers carried” their rejoinder in regard to a reverend airing his opinion. I told him we handle literally hundreds of press releases. This depends on – apart from the importance – clarity, space and dateline. Moreover, the rejoinder had no proper seal, name or designation of the executives who appended their signatures representing their respective organizations. I reminded him that it is the prerogative of any newspaper whether or not a story is carried. And just because we don’t carry a story doesn’t mean we are “biased.” Simple. But I couldn’t hold back my irritation at our fallacies when it comes to the media. In my irritation, I was tempted to tell him this but decided against it: Just because all the papers carried the rejoinder doesn’t mean we follow suit. Why? We have our own editors who exercise their wisdom depending on the exigency of publishing a particular item.
That accounts adequately for the danger and adventure part. Now, here is the Connection-And-Rubbing-Shoulders-With-The-High-And-Mighty-Part: If you happen to be around one of our innumerable seminars and picnics (of course, thanks to globalization, it is now a protocol to have chief guests inaugurate picnics too!) you’ll know what it means to rub shoulders with the high and mighty – posh treatment, sharing buffet tables with ministers and getting rides back to office and all perks of attention and respect. Nagaland is most generous to journalists. In other words we receive all attention: like get roughed up, have your butt tested for shoe-durability, and have your beautiful nose smashed as well. By some of our friendly press-respecting Nagas. The whole issue can oftentimes stink up major headlines, you know.
