75. When printed word was the gospel truth

Singer Sulakshna Pandit on the cover of JS

In the absolute silence enforced by the invisible corona virus, the thub-thub of my own chest has become a metronome of interesting revelations. Much of the past has revealed itself in bits and  pieces. Putting them together into a narrative has helped relive those days of growing up. I recall how small odors of spices were infused by a clutch of magazines for emerging middle-class readers in the early years of post-independent era. Rich in contents and editorial gravitas, these magazines had promoted a sub-culture of creative writing. Promoting a sense of social responsibility among diverse readership, those publications accorded some sense of recognition to mortals like me who wrote in the domestic patois. 

During 1970's, Mirror had emerged as a monthly magazine with wholesome reading for the entire family. For a sports buff who spent hours in the library digging facts on country's hockey laurels from the Encyclopaedia Britanicca, the magazine gave maiden opportunity for me to share the fact that Roop Singh, brother of hockey wizard Dhyan Chand, had scored more goals in 1932 Los Angeles Olympics. India had humbled hosts USA to a record 24-1 in hockey, that has remained unchallenged ever since. The fact-filled piece had proved a stepping stone for me to get published in other leading magazines of the time, monthly Imprint and the premier Illustrated Weekly of India. 

When concerns of the youth had begun to extend beyond domesticity, magazines like Youth Times and JS (Junior Statesman) had helped shape expressions of both conservative and elitist voices of the young generation. Immensely engaging, these publications gave youth a thrilling ride to deflate their windbag egotism. Guiding young collegiates to situate themselves in the bewildering realities of changing times, Anees Jung edited young minds' warped accounts in Youth Times while irresistible Desmond Doig captured lyrical enthusiasm of his readers in JS. Much before the youth were sucked into the world of competitive existence, these two magazines had helped youth in carving their distinct niche in society.     

With special appetite for the printed word gaining currency, there was a perceptible shift in the cultural tectonic plate across most middle-income households. Vying for a share in emerging readership, competition among publishing houses had led to a variety of magazines on offer for the discerning readers. Sarika to quench literary thirst; Dinman for political undercurrents; Madhuri for film freaks; Nandan for the adolescents, and Dharamyug for the seniors were monthly acquisitions for most Hindi-speaking households. Curiously, reading had emerged as a consumptive habit for a vibrant society. 

As I recount hazy images of the befuddled past, I realize how a learning and sharing landscape abuzz with a distinct sense of responsive sensibility towards each other has been long lost. While then editors would guide and nurture budding writers, in the present times building email connectivity with editors is a rarity. I recall how snail mails from editor M D Japheth accepting my articles in Mirror were both encouraging and inspiring; and Anees Jung guiding me to focus more on flow than parading the narrative with heavy words in Youth Times had left an indelible mark on my writings ever since.       

Although there is much on offer to read now and that too free, it is the subtle bonding with the magazines that has disappeared from our lives. Recalling the words of Yash Chopra, the silver screen’s undisputed king of romance, invisible relationships were being built then among different sections of the society. It had worked both ways. For irresistible Khushwant Singh, environment stories had no takers. Much before I could take him on his words, the freshly launched New Delhi had closed down its shutters. As I remember those illustrious editors and lament the demise of several magazines that had shaped my world view, I recall with concern one such magazine that folded before it could publish two of my accepted articles. Such was the the impact of advertisement revenue drying up that even Contour, a magazine published by the Hindustan Times group, closed a few months after its launch in the late 80's. For a freelance writer it meant missing out on buying a favorite dinner. 

The niche magazines that created a social and cultural connect with the times could not bear the aversion of financial backers. It had led life coming to a pause for many like me, denying us the space we needed to grow and flourish.

First published in Outlook, for the week ending Nov 01, 2021.