By Ranjona Banerji
In the mid-1980s, my parents lived in the factory town of Atul, near Valsad in southern Gujarat. Since Doordarshan’s reach was not “door†enough to give us “darshanâ€, the factory town installed a giant satellite dish. On this, we watched, yes, Doordarshan, CNN and a special broadcast for the United States Armed Forces in the Philippines.
It wasn’t till January 1991 and the first Gulf War however that CNN became a household name in India and much of the world since it was the only 24-hour news channel. Many children dreamed of becoming journalists like Christiane Amanpour and reporting on wars from rooftops. Those of us who had access to satellite TV – soon run through the cable TV system in cities – became very familiar with scud missiles and Benjamin Netanyahu as he acted as Amanpour’s guide on various rooftops.
Hard to imagine but newsrooms did not have televisions in those days. The editor of the magazine that I worked for at the time hired a room at a nearby hotel so that we could watch CNN and try to understand how TV journalism worked. As regular readers of this column will know, I still haven’t quite understood.
The BBC World Service celebrated its 25th anniversary last week. In a country where independent media was limited to newspapers, the BBC’s radio service was a staple for many. In 1984, it was on the radio for instance that we learnt that Indira Gandhi had been assassinated by her Sikh bodyguards and that horrific riots had broken out in Delhi, where Sikhs were being slaughtered. Doordarshan and Akashwani only informed late in the day. The dangers of a state-run media were evident then.
In 1992, live coverage of the demolition of the Babri Masjid was seen by many on BBC World Service. The authorities in those days were always very careful to hide everything that happened from the people. Reasons like law and order concerns, unrest or unhappiness were used as excuses given by a nanny state. The Emergency of course had demonstrated to the Indira Gandhi government that censorship was possible. The bigger lesson was that such actions can have terrible backlashes, which politicians in India have not yet fully learnt.
From 1991 onwards, we started on the path of TV news taking over our lives. It was also television itself that invaded us or more correctly, we embraced it fully. Morning conversations were about the Australian soap Neighbours. The Bold and the Beautiful became a household regular until the stars were compelled to wish us “Happy Deewollyâ€. MTV deejays were discussed on trains.
And then came Star News and all the rest which brings me to where I am today: changing channels when studio guests start yelling at each other on primetime news debates. And yet, it is important to acknowledge that too much news, annoying news, rubbish news, slanted news, incompetent news is better than no news at all and government-ruled news. We have choice and we have the ability to exercise it today. TV news has made newspaper journalists realise their worth and it has certainly changed salary structures across print newsrooms.
And to be fair, Doordarshan and Akashwani weren’t that bad entertainment-wise either and believe it or not, some of their newsreaders became “stars†as well. Oldies will sometimes reminisce about shows like Hum Log, Buniyaad and Nukkad after the National Network started in 1984 because they were excellent.
And before that, independent Doordarshan centres in different cities, managed to put together meaningful programming, with Bombay Doordarshan being among the best.
My favourite newsreader remains one from Calcutta Doordarshan who once declared with great aplomb in his plummy accent, “To end the headlines, the news againâ€.
Don’t you feel that that’s how it still works, sometimes?