Media Regulation - A Common Man's Perspective

The recent articles that surfaced in The Hindu, one by the Hon. Chairman of the Press Council of India Justice Markandeya Katju (http://goo.gl/I1JEx) , and the other by a senior journalist Mr. Swapan Dasgupta (http://goo.gl/LGhe1) , made me delve into the media, as they call, the Fourth Estate of any democratic institution. At the very outset, let me clarify that I am a student trying to learn some bit of engineering and whatever the information I have, is from the media itself. Factual inconsistencies may indeed arise and I apologize for the same. Maybe, a part of that blame though, has to go to the electronic media I so closely follow!

There are quite a lot of points I concur and with due respect, disagree to, in both the arguments. I must confess I am more inclined to Justice Katju’s arguments. The power of media has been undisputed for decades and the recent transformation of the electronic media from a cocoon to a giant size monster is something a philistine like me can simply look upon and awe in wonder. With the Egyptian “revolution” and the mass support base for the Anna Hazare movements attributed to the electronic media and the social networks, it is anyone’s guess that the power of media to influence the public mood has increased, exponentially. And I stress the word influence. It is a popular ode that “With great power comes great responsibility”. And the science of logic, which I strive to assimilate, helps me deduce a slightly improvised version of this, “With greater power, comes greater responsibility”.

I categorize myself to be a common man. One, who is concerned whether I will miss the 9 ‘o Clock bus to college today, whether today there will be a strike in my college, whether my family can survive this month on the money left….these are among the infinite problems I face. Other than a few holiday moments I spend at home which has become few and far between, I do not (read cannot) devote much time to think of things that are outside of my immediate realm. Yes, a petrol price hike falls into immediate consequence category because it threatens my monthly budget. But I do not necessarily know how much oil India imports from Iran and how much of that trade is being done in Indian currency. If I reside in a crowded and congested city, the case of vehicular exhaust pollution will affect me as I see it affecting the health of someone around me. But I do not know how much India’s stance at the G-20 on carbon emissions will affect me. And these are the issues which I read off from a newspaper, or watch the evening TV news to be enlightened of. For an hour in a day. And I get back…to my problems. And it is in this respect, that I humbly allow myself to be categorized into something Justice Katju proclaims, that “90 per cent of the Indians are fools”. Yes, I am not quite proud of that but still I tell myself, that I belong to that classification.

There are a lot of impressive points I assimilate from the debate. Justice Katju stresses that the media must be regulated, not controlled.  And to quote Mr. Dasgupta’s counter-argument, “Since most professions are regulated and accountable, why should the media be the exception?” There is a case which I wish to quote which occurred on April 23, 2012 in The Times of India, a leading English daily in which the photo of a different Ronaldo was given pertaining to a news strip on the lead page, which contained the result of a soccer match. I feel a reason to quote this example, just because of the fact that it was harmless, it didn’t possibly hurt anyone. But a mistake still is a mistake. I wouldn’t have quoted this case had the newspaper offered a correction in a subsequent days’ edition which according to my knowledge, did not occur. Here, I feel, the argument of Justice Katju assumes importance. For a common man who doesn’t know anything about soccer, he didn’t know he was misinformed. And this being an insignificant error, no one complains, no action is taken and all is well with the next day’s edition. Another example which I would point out to drive home my argument is the issue of paid news. The case of politicians bribing the print media to ensure their propaganda reached the masses is an ill-effect of the lack of regulation (self or external) on the media. The problem is compounded by the fact that not just one or two many newspapers and journals allowed themselves to be bribed, which points to the problem of large scale erosion of ethical responsibility in favour of political and economic incentives.  And the punishments meted out to this section of media by the existing regulatory body, could hardly be called inspiring.

I concur with Justice Katju when he says, “The media has become very powerful in India and can strongly impact people's lives.” And this, I feel is where the underlying need for media regulation comes. In a society that is very diverse (I would perhaps use the term fragile as well, to go with it), anything that shapes public opinion needs to be regulated. Not necessarily controlled, but regulated. This is the price we must pay for the mindset we have been shaped into. Of reacting without often thinking. Of being allowed to be influenced by a report before ensuring if it is credible. We, as the people of this country have evolved into this mindset. And I have reason to believe that the media have had an emphatic role to play in the development of this mindset.

I cannot come to terms with some other arguments Mr. Dasgupta points out. For one, he professes the opinion that a statutory “content-controlling” body will effectively cast a grey shadow on the economic freedom enjoyed by the print and electronic media in the country today. Would I be incorrect in reading this opinion as that for media to survive, does it necessarily have to resort to sensationalized and often egregious news reports? When the public are affected to such an extent that they start losing the ability to infer what is right and what is wrong, it necessitates the change in the existing order. And if the media is in no mood to self regulate, a forceful change is an unpleasant but possibly the only option out. For an impartial and enthusiastic public, I feel we need to alter from the current course.

Again, this is not to be confused with the propaganda-based media norms existing in many communist and military regimes. I disagree with Justice Katju in this regard that astrology, life of cricketers, film stars etc should not be covered. Excess of anything is a bane and it applies to this as well. It is a very personal opinion expressed by Justice Katju that some news items should be banned. It is just that the over-emphasis on “sensational news” must be curbed. The issues that demand attention must take up space in the media, and the current trend of bypassing such news, in favor of something containing more “masala” should be done away with. In other words, the prominence of news items should as much be on the importance of issues it highlights. An error, however inadvertent it maybe, must be accounted for and a due apology must be issued. This is a question of integrity and ethics, and if it cannot be self-imposed, it has to be enforced justly and impartially.

If the government aims to reign in the media through parliamentary laws, it must be vehemently condemned. Because in that regard, the right to expression is forfeited. What I envision is as Justice Katju proposes, the formation of an independent, impartial and statutory body. I say independent because it concerns the enforcement which affects a section of the democratic ideals based on which the Constitution of India stands. I say statutory because there are some things that have to be regulated when one considers the interest of the nation. And it has to be impartial because no particular media house or no particular branch of the government or executive should have an absolute control over the media. The concept of Press Council of India is very much on similar lines because it contains members from the press community, the legislature and from other bodies like the UGC, but their executive powers are vastly limited.

 The Press Council of India should be expanded to reflect a more accurate ideology – more representatives from the media, plus prominent social activists should be included in the same. I would deem the role of social activists as vital because they are the people who can be expected to raise the voice on behalf of me, the common man. And an important step ahead would be to increase the powers, something on the lines of the Election Commission of India. With an able team to lead the press in the country in a direction so as to empower the media and thus invigorate the media-following citizens, am sure the media will play an ever increasing pivotal role in making our country a better place to live, for more and more of the citizens of the state.

The media have had the power. They have enjoyed the liberties conferred to it as the fourth estate of democracy. Did they misuse it..? At least if some people did not have this doubt, the talk of media regulation may not have arisen in the first place…

Passenger

It was around midnight when I reached the railway station. Thanks to the festival season, a confirmed reservation status was a distant dream. The station was virtually deserted, barring a handful of voyagers who had arrived in the previous train and were making their way out into the town. There was no clamour of Auto walaahs and taxi walaahs unlike that of the big city I was so used to. I managed to wake up the lady at the ticket counter. The expression on her face portrayed me as doing a heinous act, trying to legitimately buy a ticket as she handed me a general class ticket for my destination. Bengaluru.


With my trolley bag, I moved on to the second platform. There was nearly an hour to go for the scheduled arrival of my train. That is, if Indian Railways does the noble and improbable act of driving my train somewhere close to an “On Time” status. I grabbed a cup of coffee from a stall on the virtually deserted platform. God, coffees at railway stations suck big time..!! High time these people think of renaming the brew and maybe applying for a patent for it. Coffee...!!!!


I moved on. Found an empty bench. Not as if finding an empty bench in a deserted station in a sleepy southern town in India was a strenuous affair. I sat, grateful to the “coffee”. That was the only thing that could keep me awake at this time of the day. Aah, how I longed for a bed to sleep. It was not to be tonight. Reservation status blank.


It was when I threw away the coffee cup on to the track after finishing and thinking what next to occupy myself with when I noticed a girl walking in my direction. She stood out of the crowd, simply by her conduct. Her attire, her countenance….and the fact that she was talking on a mobile phone made her stand out in the skimpy crowd. Plus maybe the fact that she walked towards my direction and settled herself on a concrete bench adjacent to mine.


Who was she talking to..? Her boyfriend...? At her age I had stood at this times at a lot of railway stations. But that was a time when people were a lot more restrained. But not youth. In the prime of youth, when we used to travel in groups, we literally used to make every journey a celebration. And the time spent waiting for station were always memorable. Laughing, shouting and commenting, we really used to make our presence felt. Aaah..those thoughts, they never cease to make me nostalgic. Surely not now, when you are standing almost alone in a small station, almost uncomfortably silent.


Except for the girl talking on her phone.


She cut the call and moved closer to the tracks. It was clearly visible – the tension on her face. She so badly wanted the train to come. To get on with the journey.


At last the Railway God smiled..!!! The train arrived. I got in and managed to find a window seat. And imagine my surprise when I found myself staring straight to the same girl talking on the same phone sitting right across me. I debated whether to initiate a conversation or mute myself when the girl accosted.


“Excuse me, what time will the next station be..? I have to recharge my mobile..."

“It’ll be nearly an hour and half from here. You can use my phone if you want to...”

She politely declined and I thought I saw a hint of a small smile spread across her face when her mobile buzzed again. The traces of the expression I thought I saw vanished in a flash.


“What did he say..? Uncle..? Aunty had promised she’ll convince him...”

“Please...don’t tell me there is no change.”

“Okay. Call back if anything comes up.”

My curiosity augmented manifold. The feeling was intensified when the expression on her face further deteriorated. It was evident, she was controlling herself from not sobbing. Was the person in front of me facing the deepest crisis of her life..? May I help..or will it be inappropriate to ask..?


The whimper of the phone cut into my thoughts again.


“Amma please. You just need to say a yes. If you can’t do it, no one else can. I know Appa loves us. He can’t do this...”

“Amma he won’t do it. He can’t. He loves me...”

It seemed Amma cut the phone because she was cut in the middle of the sentence. What did her father do that is causing so much distress in her..? Whatever it is, it is really tearing her apart right now. My thoughts raced faster than the train as she put the phone back into her handbag with a deep sigh. In less than a minute it was back to where it belonged – beside her ears.


“Appa...no you’ve misunderstood the situation. It was never quite the way you perceived...”

“Amma can’t live without you. And you know it...”

The conversation tapered off. But what was the matter. Was her parents on the verge of a separation..? But...how can they do this to her..? Couldn’t they think of her before doing something this catastrophic..? My psyche was flooded with questions. And the gentle breeze fluttering across the window was so comforting for a tired body and it was just a matter of times before I had dozed off.


An unfamiliar ringtome woke me up in the dead of the night. It was her phone buzzing on her seat. “Uncle” came printed on the display. She was nowhere to be seen. Good God, where is she..? Did she commit any suicidal act..? I found myself very depressed with that thought. There wasn’t anyone I could ask...everyone else around was sleeping soundly. Clenching her phone in my wrist, I dashed across to near the toilet.


Thank God, she was there. I was shocked seeing her expression, she was uncontrollably sobbing. She took the phone from my hand. Undecided what to do I hung around there for a few seconds. When I felt that my presence was dissuading her from speaking freely on the phone, I made my way to my seat. I could make out pieces of the conversation on one side.


“But I had told them it is not true.”

“Uncle, please. Do try once more. No I haven’t given up hope.”

I waited, anxiously. For her to come back. It was actually a tug-of-war going on – between an extremely tired body refusing to lay awake and an anxious mind preventing the slumber to come its way. It took the better part of an hour for the former to win over the latter but it eventually happened. And all the while I had waited her to come, to know what happened. She didn’t come.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was woken up by the continuous clamor that came with the Bengaluru railway station. Aaah back Bengaluru. I got up from my seat and stretched myself. It took a moment for me to come to my senses and that was when I realized – the girl was no there..!! Neither was her phone or any of her belongings. Cursing myself for sleeping the way I did, I rushed to check the either end of the compartment. It was empty, there was no one there. It seemed it had been around 5-10 minutes since the train had arrived at the station. She might have alighted and made her way. Or she might have alighted at some earlier station. Or she might have...no it can’t happen.


The train..had completed its journey. I had reached my destination. All of my co-passengers had. Well, did she reach her destination..? I don’t know. I wish she did. Maybe I believe she did...

Suicide

No. I can’t. I simply can’t. All this cruel world has given me are a set of shattered dreams and unfulfilled promises. I just can’t.... No more depressing mornings, no more numb evenings I want to see. All I want to do is to slip into a deep slumber. A peaceful slumber, a few metres under beneath the lap of this earth.

All I want to do...is suicide.

A ramshackle Wilkinson Sword blade was the weapon I found after scanning through among the rubble in my bedroom. My right hand glanced along her surface, feeling its deadly smoothness. But the question remained....which hand – left or right..? Which one was destined to provide me the path to nirvana? It was tough to decide. After a lot of forethought and afterthought, I made the call. After all, I had to make the call. So be it my left hand. A snort of derision spread across my countenance as I stared at my right hand. “Huh, you call yourself my comfortable hand, do you? But when the need came, your other half stepped forward....”

Caressing the matrix of bluish-greenish blood vessels adorning my left wrist, I moved towards the window. Hopefully one last time. A gentle breeze, I reflected. “This year, the summer wasn’t that very hot. The new Air Conditioner didn’t turn out to be a good investment. And I really don’t know why people want to increase the air conditioning capacity in the office. I very often end up feeling really cold out there….” The breeze began to play with my hair. Irritated, I started putting my hair back to its place. “Next time I go to barber shop, I’ll make sure he really trims it to the maximum possible extent. A military cut style....”

It is then when I noticed a piece of paper fluttering on the table adjoining the window. Gas cylinder bill. S**t, today is the last date. If I don’t pay up, those people are surely going to disconnect my connection. I can’t afford to run after reconnection formalities, I really can’t. Switching on my computer, hopefully one last time, I made the payment online. Ufff, what a relief. Thank God, I remembered at least today.

I brought the blade closer to its intended destination. And I thrust myself onto the rexin settee.

Hey, what the hell am I doing..? It’s hardly been a month I bought the new settee. And if blood falls onto it, the stains are really going to be tough to eliminate. Immediately I pushed open my closet, took out a white towel and spread it on the settee. Thank God, at least now I remembered....

At last, hopefully for one last time, I closed my eyes. I hardly felt any feeling the infinitesimal moment the blade slit my left wrist.

I opened my eyes hoping that I’d be half dead. All I saw on my left wrist was a pore, slightly bigger in size than nanoscopic dimensions. I cursed myself. Someone who can’t even keep a sharp blade in his apartment ought not to live...

In a moment of rage, I threw out the Wilkinson Sword through the window and paced my way to the kitchen. A knife...a decently sharp knife.

It was when I entered the kitchen that it dawned on me. Oh... I forgot to keep today’s milk in the fridge. How forgetful can one get... I nearly about screwed up my bed coffee tomorrow morning... Thank God, I remembered at least now...

At last I found the knife. Carrying the knife along with me, I came back to the living room and was just about to sit on the settee when the clock facing the dirty Formica wall unit, embarked on its 9’O Clock chime.

Good God… 9 already? Wasn’t today the semifinals of Indian Idol...? I think it will be that curly haired guy Karan’s day today. He really outperformed the others in the initial elimination rounds. He should make it through to the finals. My fingers found their way to the remote control lying idle on the sofa and closed in on the Start button.

Do let me watch today’s episode. Indian Idol, hopefully one last time. I can always suicide tomorrow, can’t I....