The Story of an Intern

Preface

Each individual’s life is a story, if penned beautifully can be an inspiration for many this line made me write down my own story. I avoided writing down my story starting from my birth place which was spiritual but a disputed place, Ayodhya, to the capital of India. At last I found that there were some elements which must be heard by society, hence I decided to write.

There have been many ups and downs in my life, many potholes and then some achievements which can be a story of any individual in your neighborhood. I was born in an aristocratic Brahmin family where education was given primary importance, but what it took for me to finally reach my goal, is an unending story. Story that could have been a very personal experience in a big bad world of media.

Many of us, rather all of us aspire to be an achiever but few make it their destiny. I do not know whether or not I have achieved something of value if we take into account upbringing of a kid in the surroundings and atmosphere of a backward but religious town, which has seen bloody battles over a temple-cum-mosque, which later changed the political destiny of our country. I must admit that in this journey I learnt something which is rare and remarkable.

It all was due to the support of my family, friends and people big and small, whom I came across in this journey. They left an imprint on my life and helped me to gain a shape from whereI train and polish the new younger and bright generation.

The journey was tough and so was the traveler I often say but experiences gained were exceptional.

From a tiny religious town of Ayodhya to my dream city Delhi where you often get lost on the way to achieving something and are often mistaken by people of the big bad media world.I kept my head over my shoulder through a series of rejections, despair and disappointments. Thanks to the people around me. Mid way I saw stories of hope, courage, mysticism and misery in the wonderland that is India.

The chapters may be many in number, in this book, but they are short and precise and well connected with the next chapter. To keep the travelers in this journey hooked and enjoying their travels through all the potholes with me.

People whom I have met and who are part of this journey are remarkable. They are unique in many a sense. Ram Chandra Paramhans was one such individual who challenged the entire system for it’s rigidity that, the glorious Ram temple has to be built in Ayodhya. His uniqueness in fighting and travelling together with his Muslim counterparts is a lesson for many hardliners in today’s time. Ami Vitale is a remarkable photojournalist with lots of courage and hope. She has many a times penetrated the remotest part of the world all alone in search of stories untold. Anita Pratap was the first lady head of CNN and first one to interview Velupillai Prabhakaran in his peak days. She has been my inspiration. Rajdeep Sardesai has shaped today’s TV journalism and I am thankful that we met on a few occasions.Organizations like the BBC which sheltered me for two month, has inspired me (not helped) to go listen to the people who are part of a story. NASA heard me by giving me some opportunities to attend its prestigious conferences. Places like Ayodhya, Delhi, Noida, Dehradun and Bangalore have been my home in this long battle and I will never forget to mention the stories of these places.

There are people whose stories I have told in this journey. I as protagonist and all those who I came across along the way are themselves like a readable material. I have tried to listen and tell the stories of all those who left an imprint in my life.

Last I must admit that in these chapters you will find stories of all shades of life. My elder brother has been the sole source of shelter for me through my dark days and a long battle with joblessness. My parents who gave me birth and helped me to fight this battle are also my mentors. My wife has given me time and patience, shared my difficulties and so has my infant son.

I am thankful to all those who inspired me to write this wonderful story ‘The Story of an Intern’.

Word of thanks to my publisher without whose support this story would not have reached all of you.

Wishing you the very best on this Journey.

Ratnesh Dwivedi

1

Beginning of the Journey

This is the story of a deep pain and swallow gains…….. This is the story of an unending journey which has shown me ups and downs, suffering and pleasure, sorrow and happiness in media and I have emerged from darkness into an enlightened world, transformed me from an infant to a fully grown man.

I recall my meeting with a low profile, but a remarkable achiever in media, Madhukar Upadhyaya, when I had just had passed my 10th board exam in 1990. He was in Ayodhya to cover the bloody shoot out on the streets of Ayodhya and I by that time had decided to make my way in Journalism. That was a cool meeting, at his native house amidst tall trees, a large playground, a holy temple and a building. As I entered his house through an old creaking stairway he came out in a ‘lungi’ with a ‘Janeu’ on his bare upper abdomen. Very politely he said, Thakur pandit ji ke bete ho. I gave a positive nod and then discussed my dream to be like him and serve in the three letter charisma the BBC. He wrote down his Delhi home address and promised to see me in Delhi… after my graduation.

Exactly five years later, I passed the Mass Communication course enterance test, of Lucknow University. While on my way from Ayodhya to Lucknow, I rang him up to ask him whether or not to submit the fee for the said course, he advised me to stick with the course, and that decided my fate, to pack my bags for a long journey in the media. The year was 1997 and the month was March.

Lucknow University, as I had presumed, had nothing much to offer in terms of classroom studies, but as a city, Lucknow at that time was the ‘Mecca of the Media’. It was a political center for all kinds of politics we study in our books. Soon after taking admission in the Masters Program, and to live up to my father’s dream I started roaming around and knocking on the doors of each newspaper and media house. Luckily, I was noticed by one of my teachers and a veteran in the media, Mr Karuna Shanker Saxena, he offered (rather nourished my writing skills) me to write on a regular basis for a feature agency, where he was working as an editor.

It was a kick start to my career in the media alongside my studies. And I truly enjoyed my job which lasted for six months… up untill my departure from Lucknow to Delhi. The first article which I wrote was on the Chinese leader Deng-Xiao-Ping’s death and it was published… not rejected. I developed relationships in the Hindustan Times and visited its Lucknow office several times. I recall that we had plenty of students’ crazy about journalism and some of them have come a long way. Indeed beginning in Journalism was as I had predicted. People with long beard and an empty belly walking into a newspaper office to get their articles published and editors always trying ways to reject them.

Through these unforgettable experiences, and as time rolled on I finished one year but some where deep in my conscious was the picture of Delhi, where the real media war was being fought. The war between freshers and experienced media people… the war between print and electronic journalism, the war between vernacular and English journalism and a war which has given shape to today’s media industry the effort of the real heroes who are now not with us…

I got my way, I got the opportunity to knock on Delhi’s doors, I always say where there is a will there is a way…

2

Lucknow and Journalism

My story is still focused in Lucknow. As I said, the Department of Mass Communication and Journalism at Lucknow University had nothing much to offer but people in and around were interesting in many ways and they must get a place in this story…

Dr R C Tripathi, HOD as he likes to be refered to, is a man who cultivated his father’s legacy, to hold the flag. He was a typical Hindi Man surrounded with only ‘like-minded-people’. He was the sole man to run the department and his strength was the veteran who nourished all of us… Mr Karuna Shanker Saxena. We all were dependent on our guest faculty.

Mr Girish Mishra, a journalist with a No. 1 Hindi daily, and who perhaps has never compromised with his principles, put an insightful view of ‘Reporting’. Then there was Akhilesh Mishra, another veteran in ‘Gerua Kurta-Dhoti’ who taught us ‘Press Law’. Most of the laws, of press, Supreme Court Rulings, Constitution of India and Political System were on his finger tips.

But as I said, I used my time after classes to search for a freelance job, which I got in due course. The department had some amazing students like an aged Muslim friend of Hassan Ejaz from Aligarh. I have never seen such an enthusiastic, eager to learn fellow with a mastery over ‘Islam’.

Pradeep Nair who stuck around in the department was another bookworm, who was often humiliated by another friend of mine, Ashvini Bishnoi. Ashivini to whom I referred as ‘Ashvini Albela, Lakhon Mein Akela’ was a staunch Hindi Supporter and had a dominating attitude. He was smart and popular and despite his keen interest in girls, had an edge with his presence of mind.

Mukul Srivastava, who later became a Ph D holder under Dr Tripathi, and is now the only permanent faculty in the department had a witty and a sharp tongue always pinning me down with his jokes, jokes that were crafted only for me. Bhavna and Sarika were lady attractions in our batch.

Yogesh Dixit was our senior, who is now working with the Hindustan Times group at a senior level.

Anwar was the only office assistant-cum-photographer in department.

And with this ‘powerful team’ the department was running with all its ‘might’. And amidst all this, there was me who was desperately looking to make it in the media, in the politically vibrant city of Delhi. Efforts resulted in my getting published in several newspaper’s feature page and a couple of job offered on a part time basis.

And there was our late sittings in Lekhraj towers to have ‘parathas’ and our point of focus on girls at Ashvini’s house. Our search for news and current affairs magzines, Manorma Year Book and literature books. Ashvini’s preference was Civil Services and I hope he has made it.

‘Ganzing’ (roaming in Hazrat Ganj… Lucknow’s Heart) was also a daily routine.

And there was my attempt to overshadow all of it, for which I seemed to have had ‘Obsessive-Neurosis-Disorder’. I was hungrier and dreamt of Delhi, often.

I got my way by assuring a place in the Postgraduate Diploma in Journalism Program of Delhi University (However I never finished it and returned to the University of Lucknow Program).

I remember, Ashvini came to my rented room, three hours in advance and even came to ‘Charbagh Railway Station’ to help me board the Lucknow Mail. And as Lucknow Mail caught speed, and moved faster towards the Media City – Delhi, Lucknow – the city, by that time, had left a lifetime, never to be forgotten imprint on me. The year was 1997 and the month was September.

3

In to the Jat Land and South Campus

My first impression of Delhi was – A city of ‘Jats’ with a tough tounge in their mouth and a lathi in their hand. But also that it was a city which is the best at imparting education. The first impression was overshadowing the last. Hence I decided to break my journey in ‘Ghaziabad’ and landed up in my relative’s apartment.

The very next day I had to submit my fees in South Campus of Delhi University and took a DTC bus from ALT to Shiva Ji Stadium, Connaught Place. I thought that after one hour long journey I would have reached to DU. But, I was still in the middle of my journey, a DU girl sitting on the adjacent seat informed me. I was in the heart of the capital of India and was required to change the bus. I took bus No. 620 which touched Ring Road at Moti Bagh passing through India Gate, Chankya Puri and Shanti Path. I was visiting some pictursque monuments and places of Delhi.

I changed the bus again and took a Mudrika Ring Road sewa to Dhaula Kuan and entered the South Campus.

The department was and is still in bad shape. Much to my shock it was the poorest department in all the universities running Mass Communication courses and since it was attached to the Hindi Department, the administration hardly cared about it. There was no permanent faculty and with just an office assistant, Pradeep Budhiraja, and a vetearn academician and HOD of DU’s Hindi Department, Prof Nityanad Tiwari.

As I introduced myself to Mr Budhiraja, I decided, at that very moment, that I am not going to finish this course and will certainly go back to Lucknow University’s Programme. I was stunned and I found myself unable to tell my father, that’s where I was stuck. So I decided to face the challenge.

Also there was the charm of being in Delhi and its powerful media circle, which was my priority. So as an excuse to remain in Delhi and meet people in the media, I joined the course.

The second big challenge was to find a cheap and good room in a location nearby.

I started weighing my options and running around to find the right accommodation…

I spent the initial two months with a military family in Delhi Cantt. It was nice seeing India’s defense forces and its amazing people walking all around. But my hunt for an independent shelter continued. While on the way to South Campus from Delhi Cantt, one day, a person told me about localities in Palam Vihar and Mahipalpur. So after classes I searched out this place near IGI airport on NH-8. The place, a ‘Jat’ village metamorphoses into a rich village with a five star hotel ‘Radison’ and IGI airport at a two kms distance, is unique in many a sense.

I landed up in one house asking for a cheap room. The fat lady asked for Rs.1000/ month and finally I negotiated it for Rs. 750/ month. The most attractive thing were the tiny dhabas just outside the village (let’s not call it a village as it had the above features in its surroundings) and awesome people in it. For the first time I saw Jat culture and initially liked it. I firmly believe that this community can never be changed, whatever effort one puts in. They are born to dominate.

The room was shared by one of my fellow classmates who later escaped as he got another cheaper room.

This is the place which changed my perception towards life and really cultivated an attitude which was never liked by others. However I regained my ‘sophisticated behavior’, which is my weak point till date.

I still miss Mahipalpur and its people, a lot.

Manoj Dubey was the man who phoned me first about my selection in the DU course and he was the first man to make me feel that the student lobby stucked in DU. A man in his early thirties and a civil services aspirant, he joined the course to have an option in case he did not get selected in IAS. However he never succeeded in his goal and I don’t know where he is and how far he has travelled in the media.

Brajesh Mishra a young boy from Patna, with a humorous personality and a relaxed approach towards the media was the second person who caught my attention. He was my fellow traveller in my journey through the media and even interned with me in ZEE news. He is a tall man liked by