I have known about Mr Sanyal but never met him - a great writer with simplicity of expression par excellence. My condolence to his family.
- Radhika Rani (acj, 96)
My interaction with Mr Sanyal was restricted to the telephone when I was working for Deccan Chronicle and he was writing a column for students on the correct usage of English language. I was awed at his meticulousness. He would call the day before to update me on the status of his column, call back to inform he had faxed it and then call back again to find out if all was well. Sad that the Guru of English Usage is no more.
- Manju Latha Kalanidhi (acj, 96)
Monday, April 14, 2008
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Thank You
R.I.P, Mr Jyoti Sanyal (Dean, Asian College of Journalism 1997-2000)
Stupid locals in these sleepy villages. Can't we have some better facilities here also?
A tribute by Ashish Mukherjee (acj bangalore, 98)
Why must all villages be sleepy ones? Because Kipling once described them that way? Indian villages are no longer sleepy, reporter. It's you who needs to wake up and resolve never again to use this tattered expression.
local residents
Residents generally are local. People live in an area / a neighbourhood / a vicinity. Stop using local residents and use the appropriate term. And never use locals, which is a hangover of the colonial days.
actively consider
As opposed to passively consider? What does that piece of officialese mean?
- From Write it Right, The Statesman Stylebook (By Jyoti Sanyal)
Jyoti Sanyal, the man who passionately and relentlessly tried to introduce good writing into our journalistic consciousness, died of a heart attack on April 12.
Sanyal, as my batchmates and I used to call him after we passed out of Asian College of Journalism, was far ahead of his times. The clear and pointed newswriting that he wanted ACJians to practise has yet to gain ground in the industry.
Around the country, journalists are more than happy prefacing a report with "in a significant development..." Or calling everything from a theft to a murder to an assassination an "incident".
"Write what you mean, and mean what you say," Sanyal would roar during the critiques sessions of ACJ lab journal The Word. Those who took him seriously found out along their careers how difficult this was. And probably, that's where my respect for the man comes from. For Sanyal showed us - copy after copy, day after day, month after month - that it was possible to write that way…
There was hardly anything about Sanyal's persona that one could ignore. Some of us noticed his "piercing eyes", some commented on his "fancy boots". Quite a few hated the sarcasm and bite in his official notes on the ACJ softboard (they were always marked From the Dean), while the more inquisitive among us wondered why he drank only black coffee.
Everyone had, and still has, an opinion on Sanyal. In my first week at ACJ, I had sneaked out of Bangalore to attend an interview for a film production course at Delhi's Jamia Millia University. I remember fibbing to Sanyal that I was going to Mysore, and I can't forget the look he gave me. As if he had seen through my lie…
From that moment on, his eyes were kind of set on me, for good reasons though. I almost became obsessed with the Sanyal-kind of newswriting, and he told me I was doing a "good job" at subbing. That "good job" is perhaps the only reason I can today manage a job on any newsdesk.
***
Thank you, Mr S
A tribute by Dev S Sukumar (acj bangalore, 98)
I suppose we've yet to come to terms with the loss. I used to send him my writing from time to time and seek his comments. A 'good' from him was cherished for long, because it meant it was good, while a few yellow patches (he used to colour questionable sentence construction with yellow on MS Word) would mean I had to get back to the basics, as it were.
I just realised I couldn't mail him my stories any more.
I remember two phases he went through. After ACJ, when the IIJNM thing didn't work out, he was freelance consultant for technical writers. He was low, mentally, because I suppose it wasn't half as challenging as a journalism job. Soon after, he left for Calcutta. When I mailed him a story, he replied saying he didn't think he was fit enough to edit it! That, from a man who went about editing with the single-mindedness of a surgeon at an operation theatre.
I happened to visit him in December 2004. He was a changed man – I think he was about to set up Clear English India and was looking charged up as before. His mind was sharp once again and we had a pretty long conversation. Among other things, we talked about God.
I asked him what he thought of God, and the answer was typically Sanyal – "People believe in God because… you see, if I get hit by somebody, and I cannot hit back, I'd like to think there is somebody to punish him."
"There might or might not be a God," he continued. "But why do I need a priest to act as a middleman?" I cracked up, because I remembered his hatred for obscure mantras and their practitioners. Sanyal was always for the clear and simple.
His skill of editing reflected this philosophy. There was nothing 'arty' about editing – it was to make language simple, precise and to the point. No mantras, no language gymnastics. His was a scientific mind in a literary project – always searching for the word that was in excess, for the phrase that had no place – and cutting his way through the underbrush of our linguistic and cultural peculiarities. As Indians, he would always tell us, we had a tougher battle at hand, because our culture had predisposed us to use English in a way that should not be used. I don't know if anyone has dived so deep into the use of English language among Indians. In the years since I left ACJ, I haven't come across anyone who treated English usage with the kind of rigour that he did.
For Sanyal, language did not mean just smart ways of expression, it meant making life simpler. Consider, for instance, the incomprehensible legal documents against which countless Indians dash their heads. If he had his way, all legal documents would be far simpler and easy to understand, and there would be lesser opportunity for middlemen to control our lives.
I think he was quite disappointed that none of us at ACJ went through his notes with the seriousness with which we were expected to. Speaking for myself, the collection of notes he handed us has been top of The List of Things to Do ever since I left ACJ. You know what happens to these lists.
Still, whenever a certain word or phrase comes up, Ping! an antenna picks it: Also; Facilities; Local Residents; Sleepy Village… It hits. That's because he tore into us with such abandon that we still fear using those phrases… He gave us the skills we'd need on the job, and he made us feel we were fighting for a cause, the cause of purer English. Few of us still have that missionary zeal, but we are thankful to have worked with someone who showed us that such zeal was not misplaced.
Apart from what he bequeathed us, I'm thankful for two things – that he died quickly and painlessly, and that his book (a bestseller) will continue to wage the war against bad language on his behalf.
Stupid locals in these sleepy villages. Can't we have some better facilities here also?
A tribute by Ashish Mukherjee (acj bangalore, 98)
Why must all villages be sleepy ones? Because Kipling once described them that way? Indian villages are no longer sleepy, reporter. It's you who needs to wake up and resolve never again to use this tattered expression.
local residents
Residents generally are local. People live in an area / a neighbourhood / a vicinity. Stop using local residents and use the appropriate term. And never use locals, which is a hangover of the colonial days.
actively consider
As opposed to passively consider? What does that piece of officialese mean?
- From Write it Right, The Statesman Stylebook (By Jyoti Sanyal)
Jyoti Sanyal, the man who passionately and relentlessly tried to introduce good writing into our journalistic consciousness, died of a heart attack on April 12.
Sanyal, as my batchmates and I used to call him after we passed out of Asian College of Journalism, was far ahead of his times. The clear and pointed newswriting that he wanted ACJians to practise has yet to gain ground in the industry.
Around the country, journalists are more than happy prefacing a report with "in a significant development..." Or calling everything from a theft to a murder to an assassination an "incident".
"Write what you mean, and mean what you say," Sanyal would roar during the critiques sessions of ACJ lab journal The Word. Those who took him seriously found out along their careers how difficult this was. And probably, that's where my respect for the man comes from. For Sanyal showed us - copy after copy, day after day, month after month - that it was possible to write that way…
There was hardly anything about Sanyal's persona that one could ignore. Some of us noticed his "piercing eyes", some commented on his "fancy boots". Quite a few hated the sarcasm and bite in his official notes on the ACJ softboard (they were always marked From the Dean), while the more inquisitive among us wondered why he drank only black coffee.
Everyone had, and still has, an opinion on Sanyal. In my first week at ACJ, I had sneaked out of Bangalore to attend an interview for a film production course at Delhi's Jamia Millia University. I remember fibbing to Sanyal that I was going to Mysore, and I can't forget the look he gave me. As if he had seen through my lie…
From that moment on, his eyes were kind of set on me, for good reasons though. I almost became obsessed with the Sanyal-kind of newswriting, and he told me I was doing a "good job" at subbing. That "good job" is perhaps the only reason I can today manage a job on any newsdesk.
***
Thank you, Mr S
A tribute by Dev S Sukumar (acj bangalore, 98)
I suppose we've yet to come to terms with the loss. I used to send him my writing from time to time and seek his comments. A 'good' from him was cherished for long, because it meant it was good, while a few yellow patches (he used to colour questionable sentence construction with yellow on MS Word) would mean I had to get back to the basics, as it were.
I just realised I couldn't mail him my stories any more.
I remember two phases he went through. After ACJ, when the IIJNM thing didn't work out, he was freelance consultant for technical writers. He was low, mentally, because I suppose it wasn't half as challenging as a journalism job. Soon after, he left for Calcutta. When I mailed him a story, he replied saying he didn't think he was fit enough to edit it! That, from a man who went about editing with the single-mindedness of a surgeon at an operation theatre.
I happened to visit him in December 2004. He was a changed man – I think he was about to set up Clear English India and was looking charged up as before. His mind was sharp once again and we had a pretty long conversation. Among other things, we talked about God.
I asked him what he thought of God, and the answer was typically Sanyal – "People believe in God because… you see, if I get hit by somebody, and I cannot hit back, I'd like to think there is somebody to punish him."
"There might or might not be a God," he continued. "But why do I need a priest to act as a middleman?" I cracked up, because I remembered his hatred for obscure mantras and their practitioners. Sanyal was always for the clear and simple.
His skill of editing reflected this philosophy. There was nothing 'arty' about editing – it was to make language simple, precise and to the point. No mantras, no language gymnastics. His was a scientific mind in a literary project – always searching for the word that was in excess, for the phrase that had no place – and cutting his way through the underbrush of our linguistic and cultural peculiarities. As Indians, he would always tell us, we had a tougher battle at hand, because our culture had predisposed us to use English in a way that should not be used. I don't know if anyone has dived so deep into the use of English language among Indians. In the years since I left ACJ, I haven't come across anyone who treated English usage with the kind of rigour that he did.
For Sanyal, language did not mean just smart ways of expression, it meant making life simpler. Consider, for instance, the incomprehensible legal documents against which countless Indians dash their heads. If he had his way, all legal documents would be far simpler and easy to understand, and there would be lesser opportunity for middlemen to control our lives.
I think he was quite disappointed that none of us at ACJ went through his notes with the seriousness with which we were expected to. Speaking for myself, the collection of notes he handed us has been top of The List of Things to Do ever since I left ACJ. You know what happens to these lists.
Still, whenever a certain word or phrase comes up, Ping! an antenna picks it: Also; Facilities; Local Residents; Sleepy Village… It hits. That's because he tore into us with such abandon that we still fear using those phrases… He gave us the skills we'd need on the job, and he made us feel we were fighting for a cause, the cause of purer English. Few of us still have that missionary zeal, but we are thankful to have worked with someone who showed us that such zeal was not misplaced.
Apart from what he bequeathed us, I'm thankful for two things – that he died quickly and painlessly, and that his book (a bestseller) will continue to wage the war against bad language on his behalf.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Linda wins DSF award
Linda George of the sixth batch won the Dubai Shopping Festival journalism award for the third year in a row. This award is given by the DSF organisers for the best story on the festival.
Will try to upload the story if I get it from her.
Will try to upload the story if I get it from her.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
One for the album
Shwetha George (nee Varghese) of the fifth batch catches up with Prakash Karat during a meet of the MCC alumni. That's her daughter Gia.
(Pallav adds: 'Child must be traumatised')
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Ram, Sankara and Hamlet
Hi,
Thought I'd post this piece of fine writing by Ram. I was reminded of it while talking to Parnab Mukherjee, a theatreperson/ social activist, who was talking of Hamlet. I told him Ram has composed this poem of Sankara's soliloquy to Hamlet, and Parnab suggested I mail it to him so he could possibly use it in one of his theatre performances. Parnab employs the 'Third Theatre' idiom, using plenty of on-the-spot improvisations, and this sort of thing would be ideal for him.
Anyway, here's posting a few of Ram's stanzas. Those who want to read the entire text can email him. (C'mon guys, let's have some energy on this blog! Ramya, why have you gone to sleep? Bharat, Manju, Radhika... start posting)
Sankara to Hamlet
(what the guru told the prince of denmark * pls read Ram's note at end.)
sit in the foyer
and meditate on maya
with knowledge you see
that to be's not to be
your dad's ghost spoke secrets
that turned you truly hyper
be warned, this world's like him
all illusory, yes, all vapour (1)
you agonise over dad and uncle
your mom and the royal caucus
have you wondered about yourself
and this crazy worldly circus? (2)
pain comes in many forms
physical, and of course, mental
for the sake of rhyme, some say
the worst form is dental (3)
you know that's simply not true
a tortured soul is the bluest of blue
it kills its vessel, that's the body
nothing helps, not even toddy (4)
for pain that's muscular
docs prescribe an analgesic
when that doesn't tame it
most people go ayurvedic (5)
back in kerala, where i come from
pain's treated with a massage
anyone who can knead some dough
opens a clinic in the garage (6)
there's the pain of neuropathy
not at all amenable to allopathy
it hurts so bad even atheists pray
all the time to venkatachalapathy (7)
humans pine for love and money
whether in or out of matrimony
i know a guy who died waitin'
just to make up with his honey (8)
sit in the foyer
and meditate on maya
with knowledge you see
that to be's not to be
karma, rest assured, will accumulate
whether you be, not be, or procrastinate
do you seriously imagine by not being
you'll escape the lord, who's all-seeing? (9)
some teach the art of living
through franchise, and heaving
but few can claim expertise
in the difficult art of leaving (10)
death's not the end, my friend
for the soul doesn't die so easy
if your body's got a lifetime warranty
your soul's guaranteed for eternity (11)
life repeats -- jananam punarapi
death repeats -- maranam punarapi
even medical science now says so
with advances in stem cell therapy (12)
the west thinks we only live once
and james bond makes it twice
but we in these parts take such talk
with a pinch of salt, and spice (13)
the slings and arrows that bother you
somewhat distort the overall view
on the radar aboard the eternity ship
what are they but a tiny blip? (14)
look upon life as a passing show
where wives betray and brothers kill
wounds may hurt less when you know
they too end up in karmaville (15)
we're destined to be born, destined to die
whether we eat ragi mudde or apple pie
eat right, breathe right, be sure to meditate
to get an easy visa when you transmigrate (16)
sit in the foyer
and meditate on maya
with knowledge you see
that to be's not to be
Ram's note: (Why Sankara and why Hamlet?
Philosopher Sankara (7th century AD) was born at Kaladi in Kerala. Bhaja Govindam is one of his most celebrated hymns.
Sankara composed the poem when he saw an infirm old man in Kashi trying to master grammar. Sankara was struck by the lateness of the man's attempts at acquiring scholarship.
The scene prompted Sankara to meditate on the impermanence of life, and the inappropriateness of the knowledge path (to liberation) for the old man. A highly revered exponent of the jnana marga, Sankara yet extols the virtues of another, easier path, the path of devotion (bhakti marga). Bhaja Govindam is lyrical, even if its import seems blunt and unsympathetic.
Hamlet is Shakespeare's most famous play, and contains the oft quoted soliloquy, 'To be or not to be'. Prince Hamlet is tormented by the murder of his noble father, and the pretences of his mother and uncle, who have plotted and executed the killing. He is under pressure from his conscience, and his father's ghost, to avenge the murder, but is at the same time troubled by thoughts of right and wrong, life and after-life.
For Hamlet, life after death is a question, but for Sankara, it is a truth. How would Sankara have counselled Hamlet? Here is what I think he would have said.)
Thought I'd post this piece of fine writing by Ram. I was reminded of it while talking to Parnab Mukherjee, a theatreperson/ social activist, who was talking of Hamlet. I told him Ram has composed this poem of Sankara's soliloquy to Hamlet, and Parnab suggested I mail it to him so he could possibly use it in one of his theatre performances. Parnab employs the 'Third Theatre' idiom, using plenty of on-the-spot improvisations, and this sort of thing would be ideal for him.
Anyway, here's posting a few of Ram's stanzas. Those who want to read the entire text can email him. (C'mon guys, let's have some energy on this blog! Ramya, why have you gone to sleep? Bharat, Manju, Radhika... start posting)
Sankara to Hamlet
(what the guru told the prince of denmark * pls read Ram's note at end.)
sit in the foyer
and meditate on maya
with knowledge you see
that to be's not to be
your dad's ghost spoke secrets
that turned you truly hyper
be warned, this world's like him
all illusory, yes, all vapour (1)
you agonise over dad and uncle
your mom and the royal caucus
have you wondered about yourself
and this crazy worldly circus? (2)
pain comes in many forms
physical, and of course, mental
for the sake of rhyme, some say
the worst form is dental (3)
you know that's simply not true
a tortured soul is the bluest of blue
it kills its vessel, that's the body
nothing helps, not even toddy (4)
for pain that's muscular
docs prescribe an analgesic
when that doesn't tame it
most people go ayurvedic (5)
back in kerala, where i come from
pain's treated with a massage
anyone who can knead some dough
opens a clinic in the garage (6)
there's the pain of neuropathy
not at all amenable to allopathy
it hurts so bad even atheists pray
all the time to venkatachalapathy (7)
humans pine for love and money
whether in or out of matrimony
i know a guy who died waitin'
just to make up with his honey (8)
sit in the foyer
and meditate on maya
with knowledge you see
that to be's not to be
karma, rest assured, will accumulate
whether you be, not be, or procrastinate
do you seriously imagine by not being
you'll escape the lord, who's all-seeing? (9)
some teach the art of living
through franchise, and heaving
but few can claim expertise
in the difficult art of leaving (10)
death's not the end, my friend
for the soul doesn't die so easy
if your body's got a lifetime warranty
your soul's guaranteed for eternity (11)
life repeats -- jananam punarapi
death repeats -- maranam punarapi
even medical science now says so
with advances in stem cell therapy (12)
the west thinks we only live once
and james bond makes it twice
but we in these parts take such talk
with a pinch of salt, and spice (13)
the slings and arrows that bother you
somewhat distort the overall view
on the radar aboard the eternity ship
what are they but a tiny blip? (14)
look upon life as a passing show
where wives betray and brothers kill
wounds may hurt less when you know
they too end up in karmaville (15)
we're destined to be born, destined to die
whether we eat ragi mudde or apple pie
eat right, breathe right, be sure to meditate
to get an easy visa when you transmigrate (16)
sit in the foyer
and meditate on maya
with knowledge you see
that to be's not to be
Ram's note: (Why Sankara and why Hamlet?
Philosopher Sankara (7th century AD) was born at Kaladi in Kerala. Bhaja Govindam is one of his most celebrated hymns.
Sankara composed the poem when he saw an infirm old man in Kashi trying to master grammar. Sankara was struck by the lateness of the man's attempts at acquiring scholarship.
The scene prompted Sankara to meditate on the impermanence of life, and the inappropriateness of the knowledge path (to liberation) for the old man. A highly revered exponent of the jnana marga, Sankara yet extols the virtues of another, easier path, the path of devotion (bhakti marga). Bhaja Govindam is lyrical, even if its import seems blunt and unsympathetic.
Hamlet is Shakespeare's most famous play, and contains the oft quoted soliloquy, 'To be or not to be'. Prince Hamlet is tormented by the murder of his noble father, and the pretences of his mother and uncle, who have plotted and executed the killing. He is under pressure from his conscience, and his father's ghost, to avenge the murder, but is at the same time troubled by thoughts of right and wrong, life and after-life.
For Hamlet, life after death is a question, but for Sankara, it is a truth. How would Sankara have counselled Hamlet? Here is what I think he would have said.)
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
More reading material
At the risk of being branded 'fluffy', I am going to provide a link to two blogs. They contain the kind of quick, feel-good/bad reading material that I've been searching for. Nothing too serious, nothing too deep, just creative in a very brief way. Check out the links and you'll know what I'm talking about. The more creative might find the second link quite interesting. Enjoy.
1. Stories by Claudia Hall Christian
2. 55 Flash Fiction Friday
1. Stories by Claudia Hall Christian
2. 55 Flash Fiction Friday
Friday, February 8, 2008
ACJ film
Asif (1999-2000 batch) has been into film-making for a while. He was in HT and Outlook earlier, and quit to pursue films. He made these two short films, both with ACJians in the lead :))
Copy-paste these two links into your browser:
http://www.filmaka.in/newmessage.asp?id=2009&Page=2&Keyword=
http://www.filmaka.in/premiumshorts.asp?contestid=17&id=1899&Keyword=
Copy-paste these two links into your browser:
http://www.filmaka.in/newmessage.asp?id=2009&Page=2&Keyword=
http://www.filmaka.in/premiumshorts.asp?contestid=17&id=1899&Keyword=
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