Open Letter to Tehelka

To,
Mr. Tarun J. Tejpal
Editor-in-chief,
Tehelka.

Subject: The good, the better and the ugly of Tehelka’04 –
Pats on the back, candid grievances up-front, and suggestions for improvement.

Let me start by stating outright my intentions. I write this from a position of concern and unease regarding some content and changes that have managed to creep in this weekly. With the belief, that you might disagree with me on some (or all) counts, that I might be too opinionated. But at least if this letter gives you enough food for thought to chew on, to take a step back and ponder over your next leap, I would consider it to be a worthwhile effort. After all I am just another reader with my own opinions. I might be wrong. I might be right. But there are shades of grey. What is reality? A collective hunch, anyway¹. In the process, I have ensured that the by-product of this letter, is a collage of headlines, a summary of details, chronicling some of your stories, which can be only beneficial to readers who have joined the bus late, or serve as an introduction to those newcomers who haven’t boarded it at all (Yes, these lines were rewritten as this piece transformed itself from a short letter, to a journalistic piece, to a long article-cum-open-letter-to-whatever you call it in its current form).

This has been taking shape in my to-do list since the last six months or so. In fact it's coming somewhat late in the day, even as one of your founding patrons Mr. H.K.Chaudhary in New Year issue, has already sounded one warning bell to you. In the same copy Mr. Omesh "fears that Tehelka might become a tabloid". The anniversary special issue was just out, and this is the time you should be gaining ground. Reaching new highs. Not losing founding members. I think that is some bad news. So as Tehelka, the paper finishes a successful year of its launch with a redesigned look, I guess it’s a good time to collect audience feedback and have a reality-check. And it is only fair that The People’s Paper does that. (Maybe you have already done so, in which case I request you to publish a summary of the same). In stating my opinions I heavily grant myself certain leeway and privileges. I think I can safely assume – if I have properly grasped the pulse of your audience – that I speak on behalf of; if not a majority, quite a significant chunk of your readers. For now, give me that space. I’ll justify in the end why.

Lets start with the good tidings first. The amount of stories you have covered in the past one year has left the reader in me out of breath, and thought-process on overdrive. It has been an exhilarating ride. More than fifty investigative stories broken. In fact, at least two readers have suggested that you turn the weekly into a fortnightly for the simple reason that there is really too much of gripping stuff to be read in a week. That itself is a tribute par description. Few in the national mainstream media have the courage, gumption or simply the commitment to reach out and get stories from the hinterlands like you do, with the strong leg-work and follow-up it deserves. To state that this is your USP would be stating the obvious. And in one year you have already proved that this ability of your remains unrivalled.

In the past year Tehelka gave space to activists, to social workers, to NGOs, to Dalit groups, to universities, to professors and students alike, to eunuchs who are models and to misfits masquerading as MPs. You got everyone on board. The left, the right, the center were all there, glaring from the front pages, immersed in your center pages. Shiftily answering your questions. Denying accusations, hiding their trails of corruption, forging signatures and counterfeiting documents – doing best what they do. Tarun Vijay writing about high-caste low-caste divide and its impact on education. For a change, one could actually agree with some of his views. It doesn’t get much better than this. Even your coverage on feminist groups was with a difference. Not the typical chiseled models waxing eloquent for the cause of ‘feminism’. Few have covered in clear detail about women self-help groups. Or what goes on for girl students like Nazia Yusuf in the hallowed precincts of Aligarh Muslim University. What is it for one of your own journalist to commute daily by Delhi’s public buses to office and be harassed by fellow male passengers. About the students’ protest (Moyna Manku, Sahir Raza & 50 friends) against the recent attempt to rewrite history. Or taking up the cudgels for the boys selling newspaper on traffic lights in Delhi and Bangalore. Or for knocking on PMO week-after-week for the plight of human scavengers. It was great to see you nailing down S.K.Gupta - that excuse of a doctor from Agra, and ultimately forcing him to surrender. After years of reading Kashmir reports, Tehelka gave it a new perspective by writing how business is booming for epitaph writers in the Kashmir valley. All of us know about sports industry in Jalandhar, but cricket bats made in Kashmir? Naah, no one. Or highlighting that the state of prisoners - from Kashmir or across the border- in our own backyards is no less than the AbuGhraib. Or reporting about how our poor crorepati politicians(Sonia, Rahul, Advani, Mayawati & co.) do not have even the humble Maruti 800, against their names in their asset declarations. Your ability to cut through the clutter, topic selection and sense of timing has been brilliant.

Your obituary on Dom Moraes was a fitting finery of words. Mr. Sankarshan’s straight from the heart essays on Bihar, on Shahabuddin, on Pappu Yadav were informative, and at the same time exhibited a strong undercurrent of concern. Brings me closest to how an estranged Bihari feels aggrieved at his state’s dismal affairs. I for one have read few well-meaning and practical editorials as yours. Ones, which are given not from a position of high pulpit browbeating the bad guys, but from the perspective of an everyday citizen suffering under them. Most other print media editorials (whims or musings is probably the right word) out there are preachy. Daily sermons from ivory towers. Tehelka gave voice and space to people from all walks of life. Nitin Gokhale’s and other local journalists’ reports from N.East covers a vast-ground, and starts compensating for the step-motherly treatment meted out to the seven sisters by print media. Your stories convinces me that Tehelka’s journalist were there not simply wielding a pen-paper ready to jot down prepared statements, but chasing the truth and facts with a missionary zeal. Not content with receiving tutored answers. Not satisfied with any piece of trash dished under oath. Especially so, if it contained the Ashoka seal. Be it the faces behind the masks, or the rehearsals behind the act. Tehelka was present. Almost everywhere. All these make Tehelka what it is. Your team and many readers by now already know this too well, but sometimes one needs explicit cheers, an annual appraisal, to reinforce the faith, to reiterate the message that how much it means to me, to us – the readers. This is what will keep you earning accolades. If you start diluting the news of public concerns, you start reducing the grassroots social work reports, the investigative stories, the village committees, and I am not sure next year I will be writing a similar feedback letter with the same zeal and motivation.

Moving onto the not so good and the ugly decline, which I am witnessing in Tehelka for past few months or so. Like other newspapers, why do you also have to start leaning towards bods-and-skin show? What’s more surprising is, in your new year special issue, you seemed to have given it an unabashed editorial sanction by the very title itself: Titillations, you screamed from the rooftop! It’s like compensating for all your past editions which were devoid of such gross stuff. Why do we have to tolerate Antara Mali draped in toilet paper for the umpteenth time? Or suffer the Murderous girl posing mainly her upper-self for the camera (for a change), but nevertheless ensuring that her endowments are not cropped in the frame. Does the ghost lie with photo-editor for ensuring that the “real stuff” is there? Or does the buck stop at the editor's desk who lets this entire thing pass by? I can very well recollect the first Tehelka copy I read during a train journey. It contained a report on ‘half-widows’. I heard that term for the first time in a mainstream paper. Nor did I know in detail about our holier-than-thou army making human shields from average citizenry, or the plight of farmers in Punjab (isn’t it always shown as lush green fields in Yash Chopra’s movies). Believe me, it was a cover-to-cover read in one marathon session. Very racy, very grounded, very real, and very thoughtful. Simply unputdownable. I recollect reading every subsequent edition on the same day it landed in my hands. And not one of those editions contained a single gross picture or write-up. What does it mean? A cross-section of readers like me will buy this paper more so because it avoids such mindless crass at the expense of real news and stories.

Weeks passed, and somewhere in last few pages, you started a section called “Vanity Fair - We heard it from the Grapevine”. That day this slight apprehension seeded in my mind. The fear of history repeating itself. The fear of beauty turning into an ugly beast. But I was ready to give you a chance. After all, there were some readers, who had suggested you to take a chill-pill. They advised you to walk down the entertainment route. To let that serious gaze mellow down a bit. Fine. Agree with them. It all started very gradually and maybe even subconsciously. First came the short write-ups about movies. About the respected Mr. Bachhan, the good Khans, the lovely Ms Rai’s (mis)adventure in Cannes and Amir’s ‘Rising’ moustaches. Small tidbits and gossip mongering from the show biz and the idiot box. Sometimes readable, mostly banal. But we all know, how these stories (and moustaches) don’t last for long. They all give way to clean shaves, don’t they? Some weeks down the line, and Aah! there you go! Make way for your first “babe”! The oh-so-lovable Bhoomika Chawla coming out from a pool in what else, but some swimsuit thingie – described in the caption as “girl next-door”! Sir, please look around and tell me, how many next-door girls bathe in the open; and how many next-door girls pose for media photographers; both at the same time! Zero, shunya, zilch. But then, that photo left much room for the reader’s (degraded) imagination. So if I complain, the fault lies squarely in my eyes, doesn’t it?

Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder.
We gave the world the Kamasutra.
India is a land of beauty and rich cultural traditions.
Yada, yada, yada and some more yada.

All the clichés that one has heard, please dump it on me. But that seed of doubt in me was being regularly nourished with mineral water on your editing desks. My doubts were about to turn true in the following weekends. And there she was, the Murderous girl in all her resplendent glory - or the lack of it as I see. Masquerading as the main photo for your “Casting Couch” story. Covered as much as she could, from leftovers of a nearby tailor. By all means, have a story on the casting couch, but was it really necessary to have that seminude photo on it? Did that picture tell me more than a thousand words? No. Can no one see something wrong here? No. Stupid, it’s just me ! Everybody else with clean minds is busy admiring the Oscar-winning acting talents of the 4”x10” static frame. Leo Mirani once wrote that excellent piece, introducing us to the big-hearted gentleman Mr. Mahavir Prasad Saraf, who installed street benches all over Bombay. Ironically, (s)he was now being told to investigate the shape of the couch (Ouch!!). On 18 Dec’2004, while unveiling Tehelka’s new avatar you promised us :

"….We live in an age of celebrities and none can escape it. Tehelka has tried to use their appeal to engage with crucial issues, instead of the fripperies of clothes and parties...”.

Please answer me, why did you break that promise- albeit in part, but why - right at the dawn of New Year? Almost mocking at me.

Tehelka had already tasted your share of yellow journalism. But since you did not dilute the main stories I thought I am still up to give you some more latitude. I was ready to take some undesirable stuff with rest of wanted content. At the back of my mind, I was still wishfully thinking that it’s just some weeks, when things have gone astray. And given your stand of using celebrities for a constructive purpose, I was hoping you would be on a self-correcting path soon. But that “soon” still eludes me. A story here, a gossip there continues. What do all these stories, interviews gets the readers anyway? Let us ask ourselves one question. Apart from the occasional Naseeruddin Shah, Manoj Bajpai, or Nana Patekar encounters, do these pieces contain any useful information for students of acting from say FTII or NSD? None. Do they even give an insight of filmdom to the average guy? No. It's the same pinkish fluff, which we all can read in a certain “Trash Of India”, or in a 3-yr old Filmfare edition at the local barber shop. Waiting time-20 mins, haircut-Rs 25, maalish-Rs 5, interview with Akshay Kumar – free. Laid to waste another tree! After all there is only so much one can recycle. Beyond that, it starts to stink. But you are obviously not full-fledged into this filth. Yet something which started so slowly and stealthily, is now a brazen permanent feature. Nobody complains, and you go on. And I continue to read it. And you think it’s a perfect world.

Wait, it isn't. For other trash cans it is their corporate policy. To dish trash, and then claim that a society gets a newspaper it deserves. I so fully agree with them. Since the poor in this nation still don’t get enough water in their toilets. And all the toilet paper rolls have already been taken up by Antara Mali’s. The same “leader” who claimed to “guard the reader” is now also ready to underwrite the conscience of the audience by setting them “free of all duties and responsibilities” - of course, all that for a price (All TOI readers, you must absolutely read these two links², before picking up tomorrow’s copy). But why Tehelka also started to go this way?

Moving on from the explicit imagery to the subtle interplays and maybe genuine mistakes. I agree with Ann Ninan when she says that the first time you pixellated the naked Manipuri women, it was a genuine heart wrench, a heads-turning headline. One couldn’t escape it. It might still be debatable, but not outright reject. Sometimes we do need shockers like these, to wake us up, from our middle class slumber ensconed in our 2BHK caves. But the next week, when you enlarged that photo once again to fit your front pages(by that time the story was well-spread and almost everybody knew about it), it was a betrayal of trust and responsibility. You violated the gentleman’s agreement that those photos should have never been used for sensationalism, just so that your front-page screams at me to be picked up from the stands. It is simply not a done thing. Move down the timeline to Jan 1^st, Pg4. Here Tehelka crossed the limits. We don’t need Mr. Deeptiman Tiwary to visit Pallika Bazaar (or Fort sidewalks or any other shady markets in any city) and inform us about the going price of porn CDs. If you read that piece again, you would realize that it is not of article material by any standards – not even its headline. Anyone with matric-level English and average IQ can mish-mash five quotes from shady wheely-dealers and could’ve cooked that broth. Even if you somehow justify that report, what was the need for those accompanying pics - the covers of those CDs? Does that mean, next time you run a cover story on ill-effects of pornography, I can expect a Editor recommends feature pointing me to: “top-ten list of porn you should avoid”?

I must say, all these instances were a marked contrast from the way you pursued the Goa’s “Sin in Paradise” story on paedophilia and got the culprits to book. I vividly remember someone even lauding you for specifically handling the imagery in a sensitive way that educates and frightens against such peccadilloes. But I am at a loss as to what happened this time? It was almost like there was no editorial control. It was sic, yuck and muck rolled into one. You paid a freelancer to get a 100-word story on porn markets, and he rushed to the printing press to claim his rightful space on the margins. Having done that in the next 10 minutes, he fantasized a 17-yr old’s adventure trip to Pallika bazaar and next day collected his cheque – a cool job done, a day’s wage earned. I earnestly urge you to arrest this downhill trend right now. Lest you become complacent. Last time I checked, you stood apart from the crowd. Don’t let Tehelka become yet another masthead staring at me from the newspaper stands. Don’t get tired of being strong, of being innovative.

Not for a moment I am suggesting that you don’t write about such issues. Or that there should be no debate on such topics. But it should be done in a mature and sensitive way which you have done in the past. In a way, which does justice to the controversy and takes the readers one step closer to the solution. Which tries to whip up ideas from civil society on ways to tackle it, rather than sensationalize it and muddle up things further.

As for revenues, even with my layman knowledge of sales & marketing, I can reason out a good enough case to your sales department why, at least to Tehelka, it will not touch your revenues one bit – both from readership or advertisements. As I have pointed out, (most) Tehelka readers like me are not paying Rs 10, for those images or for the gossips. Thanks to Mr. Tiwary we all know where and how to get a better deal for more skin per sq.cm. As for your advertisers, I do not think after dismissing Mumait Khan busting out from left hand side on Pg 28, all your readers would scurry to the neighbourhood automobile spares shop, thereby skyrocketing sales of Base Terminal batteries-advertised on Pg 31. Or just because a small time girl makes it big in showbiz, all girls of this nation with dreams of tinsel town in their eyes will unite and vow that they will have no papad other than Lijjat’s (which is endorsed by a typical Indian naari, on Pg2). All those girls are busy touching up their portfolios, aren’t they? Okay, I know, you can accuse me of some exaggeration in my criticism – I confess to it. But the point still remains. Base Terminal has been your consistent advertiser, even when there were no girls next door or on the neighbouring pages. Don’t you sense a big disconnect here? Or again, is it just me?

Since I am criticizing, it’s only civil and gentlemanly that I also present some suggestions (just incase if you are unaware of them), as to how to grow readership and revenues.

Google has something called as AdWords and AdSense program. Type in the right keywords describing this weekly, and see how students from universities all over start writing you to have a special subscription package (as one Binu Thomas already did). See how you start getting invitations for debates on contemporary media’s role in shaping the future. Sit back and unseal the envelope asking you to be on the chair of paper presentations. Spend some money on full-page ads in Outlook, in India Today. I, for one, cannot understand who recommended Tehelka to advertise in its own edition. When you know for sure that most of your readers already know the Tehelka story. A quarter page ad in Outlook would be much more effective than full page ad in Tehelka. Take the message to those who still do not know much about it. Host an annual Tehelka inter-collegiate debate on national issues. Invite stellars from different social spheres as chief guests for the prize distribution ceremony. Your Social Responsibility Initiative already does that to some extent (look, you already have Coca-Cola as a sponsor for this project). Expand it out of Delhi, and let it overflow from schools to colleges, to any one who wants to join it. I am sure there is no dearth of sponsors for such projects. One reader suggested to have a reader’s circle in all major towns and cities. Have real people discussing real issues to solve real problems. It would get you much more publicity rather than bubblegum talking about soap-foam. At the same time you would be doing justice to your ideology and audience.

Distribute sample free prints to students of JNU, AMU, DU, Xaviers, students of journalism, and as some reader suggested, to all the CMs and MPs. What the heck, why leave govt. schools behind. Just give away some limited-period free access to your Internet editions to all students. If you are not convinced, please read this piece(and the comments as well) and this one, on why it makes sense for a print edition to have ALL online content(yes, even the archives) totally FREE to EVERYONE(yes, even non-subscribers of print edition). In short, it says that if you are not online, you simply do not exist for an upcoming new generation brought up on a staple diet of emails and web-surfing. A very crucial point. Act on it. See your print subscription zoom in no time. I know you are already thinking on these lines when you opened up some sections of the paper. That is not enough though. Make your website searchable. There is no use of a one-year (and growing) library of news archives, if net users cannot search it or link to it. All that excellent material, those amazing stories simply become diskware draining charged electrons. Today the statement “We have a website" or "I am into computers” is probably as entertaining as “I am into telephones” for the 90s generation. It’s no more an add-on service. It’s a must for any decent enterprise. If you are still not convinced, at least give full online access to ALL print subscribers (That’s one more reason why I am not a subscriber. It does not give me any additional benefit over buying a copy from the stands which I get one day in advance). Why restrict it to NRI subscribers? As if no resident Indian would ever need to access the web-edition! Infact you are stonewalling a potential customer even if he’s ready to pay a price. Can someone please explain to me, how this makes business sense?

Secondly I feel there is this all-pervasive misconstrued idea, that anything which is not serious, which is entertainment, should be skin-show or something related to the idiot box. We have carried this idea way too far and for too long. It's time to be innovative and chart out a different course. By all means be cool. Start a humour section. Give space to comedy writers. To freelancing poets. Give a sounding board to students forums, to college groups, to hobbyists. Let them display their wares. Give me an interview of the guy who still hollers “Tum tau thehre Pardesi” for the umpteenth time in Bandra local. Give me back that People’s Page 3, from your earlier design which served a filling assortment of all these and more. Cartoons, poems, articles from housewives, limericks and failed shayars, all jostling for space. Just like that.

Host workshops on how to start a social activity or NGO, and then feed its excerpts through these pages. Start a dedicated NGO section(you already had one), and watch the Unicef, Oxfam and RedCross ads follow. Start a nature, wildlife and ecology conservation section, and simply sit back and watch all the jungle lodges & trekking camps run to your space-selling agency. Okay, I know its not so easy as I make it look. But it isn't that difficult either. Hire a smart MBA(Mktg) fresher as consultant - tell him up-front that you don't care about colourful 3D graphs and charts - and I am sure he would give you better practical ideas to grow your subscription and revenues, than the ones listed here. It would be still inexpensive compared to hiring experts from McKinsey though. (If all this still doesn't cuts, I am willing to invest Rs 12 or even Rs 15 for this weekly, for the same high standards)

Tehelka’s arts, books and lifestyle section is already damn good, and can easily contend for the top-spot with Hindu’s Sunday magazine or DH’s Sunday Herald. Continue and strengthen that section. Otherwise how will I know the amazing fact that Nadeem Aslam took all of 11½ years to complete his “Maps for Lost Lovers”, much before others picked up on the story. Or Kamila Shamsie’s excellent take on Karachi. Or the intense debate on Farrokh Dhondy’s views on Naipaul, and reader’s charged reactions to it flying across like electric sparks. I am sure many of us miss those well-written in-depth long essays. Bring them back. All newspapers reviewed the movie “Black”, but it did not surprise me when Tehelka insisted to get well-known artist (who was also deaf and blind for sometime) Satish Gujral’s reaction to it.

Start a dedicated city section. Cover the character of major towns & cities in a way, which no one has done earlier. What do I mean by that? Since I hail from Bombay so allow me to let you on some specific examples. Everybody covers Bombay, but how many of us from the new generation (or even grey-hairs) know that the (old) Taj Palace Hotel building opposite the Gateway has a design blunder of monstrous proportions? Yes! The building literally turns its back on you if you want to marvel at that architectural wonder from the sea-face. Watch it from the harbour and you can endlessly gaze at several neatly arranged sewerage pipes running down to give you a warm hug. The blunder was uncovered only after the entire project was finished. Hearsay has it that its architect George Wittet attempted suicide on realizing this, but even fewer know that he died of all things, acute-dysentery! Is that interesting trivia to a Bombayite? I think so. How many of us, who will never pay a visit to astrologer squatted on footpath, know that by selling futuristic dreams to gullible souls (s)he can earn much more than a ladies’ hair-band seller slogging it off in locals between Kurla-Chinchpokli. Well, Mid-day just did³ that experiment. It is so refreshing, at the same time, educative – a peek in someone else’s universe (note the line: “madam haath mein paisa nahi rukta hai”). Ever read a beggar's story, which instead of evoking sympathy, might just make you go green with envy! Yes, an enterprising beggar in Bombay can earn as much as Rs 1000 a day! (apart from the 40K bank balance, and a flat in Virar, to go with the 32-bit wide glee on his wifey's face). I am sure other cities and towns have similar orphaned stories lying around. Unwritten, unread, and evaporating in thin air with the times.

Experiment, experiment, and experiment. Start including interesting pieces from the blogosphere. People have interesting ideas on India's development, dedicated sites on education, everyone especially journalists should know about media watchdogs and how they are hounded by big fish in the pond (I guess, they'd call it moving with the Times), some extensive ground-work and a huge collection of writings on the Bombay slum demolitions etc.. There is no need to reinvent the wheel. You might not agree with all of them, or all the ideas, so evaluate these works, and publish them. Encourage these authors, especially if that is what they do for a living. I can go on and on. In short, there are 101 other ways to make the paper stylish. To be different. To infuse a breath of fresh air. To appeal to youngsters. To those who are on the fringes. To those who are not so much into news and views, yet they read some weekly. To those who start from the last page. To those who have to read something while going to bed. Style need not be synonymous with skin. I am sure many people would love to see these innovative changes. Laugh your way to the banks. You have a right to do that. But don’t laugh on your readers. And whatever changes you do - at the risk of sounding repetitive, for God's sake - please advertise these plus-points to the world. Improve your distribution network (Bangalore's famous retail-chain FoodWorld, still doesn't stock Tehelka, then how do you expect your target audience to know about it?). You won't believe how many well-read, educated people I have encountered who do not know about Tehelka's print foray. Or even if they do know, they are under the impression that it is still living in the WestEnd defence time-wrap and all it has to report is cheap spycam sensationalism. Clear the air. Make some noise. Drive the message home.

And here I rest my case. Please stop serving me dumbed-down content. Not even one page. Not even one photo.

Earlier in this letter, I granted myself the liberty to claim, that I was speaking on behalf of a cross-section of your audience. To conclude, here is the litmus test of that claim. I request you to please publish this article in your next issue. In parallel, I am publishing this as the first entry in my blog. In recent “CII Youth Summit” you exhorted the audience to be more discerning so as to make editors more responsible. Here is one such reader, and hope many others follow suit with their comments. I invite and urge all readers of this article(especially all Tehelka readers) to post their comments on this blog, and/or send their feedback to Tehelka (better both –I’d also like to know all reactions). Do not think that your comment would not make a difference. After all a single stone creates ripples in calm waters. (Comments with disagreement are fine, gentlemanly debate based on logic most welcome; abuse, flaming, personal attacks, "left"-"right" wars will be strictly censored).

May I now request you to please go and address Mr. Chaudhary's grievances? That's all I have to say about that. Wish you the very best. Looking forward to your reply and reader's comments.

Yours sincerely,
- Suhail Kazi

Bangalore.

Jee mein apne kya kya hai, aye humdum,
Par sakhun taab-e-lab nahin aata
Dil se rukhsat hui koi khwahish,
Giriya kuch besabab nahin aata
~ Mir Taqi Mir

Many a thought bestirs my heart,
But nothing on my lips arrives.
Some desire, it seems has died,
Not without a cause I cry.
~ Translation by K.C.Kanda.

1.Quote from Jane Wagner.
2.Thanks to Neeraj for passing these links.
3.Link sourced from Amit Varma