WHAT can write about a journalist memoirs except to say that in recounting events in the past, he has woken up dead memories of another day and age? And sometimes led one-a fellow journalist-to shed some unexpected tears? Reading Maniam’s book has been like re-living history, the history of India from the day it became free, free, free, free at last from long years of slavery to the end of the twentieth century, when Maniam retired as editorial writer of the The Statesman early in 1993.
From 1947 onwards Maniam had served in the communication field in many ways. He started this career in The Indian Express in then Madras. Then became a rolling stone, serving many organisation-including, of all places, an insurance firm-getting in and out of four jobs in five years. Then he worked for that patently anti-communist paper Thought for six years, despite “the admittedly poor salary”. Thought was believed to be, in those Cold War years, a foreign-subsidised journal. In 1963 Manian joined SPAN-the magazine put out by the US information Service-his work largely confined to writing captions for photographs, but with a four-figure salary! But, as in the past, he survived in SPAN for no more than seven months. Then came the job he determinedly stuck to, reporting for The Statesman and what a wonderful excitement-filled 29 years they turned out to be! Now Maniam was meeting people live and interacting with them. Name them and Maniam had something to write about them. Familiarity did not breed contempt. Quite the contrary. He came to admire many of them, now mere name in history. He came to know C Rajagopalachari, India’s last Governor General who had a pleasant sense of humour. Maniam once wanted to take a picture of the man. Rajaji’s response was: “I am the same man, what is there to photograph me again and again?”.
He quotes conversations he had with several as if he had recorded them. He remembers time, date and place of events with a precision that is truly amazing. He recalls his connections with politicians, fellow journalists and their like with elan. He covered the Lok Sabha and has lots to say about it. He wrote a weekly column, often expressing indignation at Members’ waywardness, enough to rouse GK Reddy, a colleague, to say: “You take Parliament too seriously”.
This is a book by a journalist for other journalists who will enjoy it immensely. As Memoirs, it is unputdownable, full of anecdotes that recall the past with such precision as to make one wonder whether the author maintained a regular diary. It is not just a journalistic odyssey. It is history in the raw. At one point he asks: “How does one produce a bright, readable newspaper and different from the rest, day after day, by reporting the routine activities of those generally said bodies and the often predictable and almost always tedious proceedings of meetings and conferences? Maniam has an answer. Once, at a press conference given by MG Ramachandran, Maniam asked a question to which MGR gave only a curt answer. Maniam did not give up. He kept standing and when MGR looked at him Maniam asked: “What sort of answer was that?” MGR could only ask: “What sort of question was yours?” Upset, Maniam walked out. So did the entire body of other reporters, one of whom was to call up Maniam to thank him for standing up to bullying and for not being afraid to protest.
For this reviewer who also covered the period Maniam covered, albeit in many other places, this book brings back memories of politics and politicians long dead and gone, but with nostalgia. Recalled are name like MN Roy, CR Mandy, editor of The Illustrated Weekly of India, Melville DeMello, S Mulgaonkar, Durga Das, Devdas Gandhi, Nirad Chaudhuri, Mulk Raj Anand and a whole lot of them who once strode the Indian scene but are now all dead and gone. As Maniam himself speaks of his quiet departure from The Statesman, quoting TS Eliot, that’s the way the world ends, not with a bang, but a whimper. But for recalling the past with all its successes and shortcomings, this reviewer wants to say: Thank you, Maniam. For the GenNext, it would come as somewhat of a revelation; history may change, but the art of reporting doesn’t.
(Yes Dee Publishing Pvt Ltd, New No. 16, Govindan Street, Ayyavoo Colony, Aminijikarai, Chennai-600 029; www.yesdee.com)
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