never say doomsday
The apocalypse was imposed on me from birth. Most predicted that I would be born dead but I quickly sucked up the oxygen of the news and passed away. Long before the Stephen King cult horror movie, IT took its toll on me when I was barely in the incubator. As I was shaking that ghost, a new flash of blazing light and the dim mics of news TV channels terrified my formative years. The Internet was taking its forte, weaving its web, about to take over all of us.
Every year it was predicted that this would be my last. Yes, this year my 26th birthday celebration was muted by noticing the Greek letters in the air coinciding with the year-end issue, but I’ve ridden the apocalypse so far so don’t worry. You are so slow and stubborn, laughs on social media. You read the long and winding digital portal. I’ve heard worse, I’ve had so many knocks on my way here that doomsday seems boring now. And there are many treasures inside me, many insights hidden within my pages, many images to pause and ponder that will emerge after you read (Don’t panic, New Media, this 6-minute read, for your attention Duration).
looking for boundaries
A reader recently sent me a letter about road rage in his city. Read More… at the end of the first page, same in the second, third and fourth. Another reader posted pictures of his visit to Munsiyari asking if they could be published. There were 39 of them, eleven of them from the same angle from the balcony of his hotel in Panchachuli.
Till now all art forms have had a limit. Cave paintings are on stone blocks, there are covers in books, there are movies, there are times in theaters and operas, there are frames in paintings, there are periods of concerts, there are word limits in newspapers and magazines. It helps to flesh out the idea, brighten up the sentences, tighten up a set-piece. So the writers throw away the pages, the composers delete the notes, the filmmakers edit the scenes. What is left in a book, film or writing is important.
Two, in all forms of communication one has to sift through editors, directors, conductors, musicians, curators, photo coordinators. Perhaps the first time New Media has had neither. It’s interesting, because at the same time it’s extremely democratic—where the news is free from the tyranny of an editor—as well as insanely chaotic. The Internet has certainly freed up news. But it negates the training of a reporter, the endless discussion of editors at my news meetings, the passionate pleas of journalists for their pitches, the polishing of the copy, and the fact-checking by the desk. That was the problem with the letter above. New Wave French film icon Jean-Luc Godard famously said that every story should have a beginning, a middle and an end but not necessarily in the same order. The author had embraced it completely.
recharge and reload
So, what shape will this new media, unbridled and for now indestructible, which they say will devour me and make my brothers extinct in the days to come? Until we know that, I will continue to do what I know best, as I have been doing in my last few issues. I’ll take you through the headlines and ahead of breaking news. I will take you to Oting and Jaunpur, Shopian and Mahul, to meet the people there, to hear their stories, to laugh with them, to cry with them. I will tell you stories that will make you angry, some may even inspire you to get up and do something. I will call you from prisons, from classrooms, from hospitals. I’ll profile anonymous heroes and publicity hounds, head honchos, and foot soldiers. I will go to high positions and low lives, to peasant and army camps, to feudal palaces and infamous streets. I’ll show you his life in the big picture, not in thumbnails, with illustrations and artwork, with pizza and pancakes. Where else will you find Perumal Murugan’s original short story, Pico Iyer’s New Thoughts on the Journey, Meditations on Art by TM Krishna, as in this issue?
It’s easy to take with me, my battery doesn’t drain. I don’t break, don’t shatter and don’t die on you. Charged all the time from me, more foldable than latest device, I don’t need frequent upgrades. And while I await the apocalypse, let me open a bottle and think of the next great story to tell you.
Satish Padmanabhan Managing Editor Outlook
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