market was under construction. The bar and the building belonged to the then Mayor of Panjim, an affable man whose employees entertained the NT staffers on credit. The editorial staff got an off-day after two days of work – that's 10 offs a month, which was a luxury that journalists in other papers could not dream of.
The first thing that struck one about the English-language Press in Goa in those days was its utter lack of respect for the readers' intelligence. I'm sorry if this view offends anyone, but the small-town mentality, the self-serious posturing and the patronising editorialisation of news reports were all too obvious in both the NT and Herald.
But there ended the similarity. In other respects, the two papers were a study in contrast. Herald was technologically superior. Having introduced computers ahead of the NT, its printing was neater but the paper was replete with errors – typographical as well as factual. The NT too had its share of typos. But it made few factual errors, because, as critics would say, it seldom reported facts!
The NT used vintage Lino machines for composing and its antiquated printing machine broke down quite often. The morning paper hit the news-stands well after 10 am on such occasions. The printing was awful – full of black patches, missing letters and blank spaces that challenged the imagination of the reader. Still it retained its readership, mainly because it was perceived as the more credible of the two.
Rajan Narayan failed to rise to the occasion and offer a credible alternative. Herald behaved like a spoilt brat throwing tantrums. It lacked a sense of proportion. Too often, it played to the gallery, fanned sectarian passions and threw norms to the wind. With its rabble-rousing shrillness, Herald managed to gain a foothold among a section of the Goan population, especially in South Goa where the NT was perennially late to arrive. But Herald was not taken seriously even by its ardent supporters. Journalist Devika Sequeira once summed up the situation neatly: Herald was laughable and the NT evoked tears!
All that changed with the arrival of the Gomantak Times . The NT Chief Reporter Pramod Khandeparker quit to join the GT. The NT was jolted out of its complacency – it was facing a challenge it had never faced before. Work on the new building was speeded up, and the relocation carried out in a hurry. Computers were installed and a new printing machine was ready.
But all that was not enough to ward off a threat from the rivals. Its content had to improve. Acting Editor M.M. Mudaliar was in a bad mood. His calm and composed disposition gave way to a brittle temper. He yelled at the management people, and threatened to have the editorial staff sacked.
One day, I diffidently approached him with a piece of writing and asked for permission to launch a column in the Sunday supplement. He was reluctant. I was new and untested. And I was not even a regular – I was on voucher payment. But he decided to give it a try and carried the piece on the front page of the Sunday Magazine. It was titled 'A peep into Goan psyche'. The column was called 'Small Talk' and it appeared under the pseudonym of R.K. Yen. The response to the first piece was incredibly good. Mudaliar readily published the second one and, when the third piece appeared, I got the appointment order.
By then Mudaliar had been confirmed as Editor and the paper was ready to face the world with new vigour. The editorial offs were curtailed to once a week. The printing improved and new features and columns were gradually introduced. The NT had arrived. The threat from GT looked feeble now. They had good journalists and better technology, but had forgotten to hire good proof-readers. The paper was full of typos, even in headlines.
The NT was relieved – at least temporarily.
The arrival of GT had a big impact on the Herald too. Rajan Narayan began to behave like one possessed. He blamed Chief Minister Pratapsing Rane and the NT for all the ills of the world. His frustration was beginning to show. He railed against the NT and Rane at the drop of a hat. Once, two people were killed in police-firing in Vasco following a group clash. It was the lead in the next day's NT, but the Herald completely missed the news.
A reader's letter was published in Herald a few days later: "Where was your reporter when the firing took place in Vasco? Had he gone to Baina for a quickie?" The Editor's reply: "We don't enjoy the patronage of Chief Minister Pratapsing Raoji Rane. So we missed the news." (As if Rane had called in the NT and given out the news!)
Rajan Narayan is essentially a rhetorician. He has a way with words and can argue his case convincingly. But his writings carried little conviction, which was the major reason for Herald's credibility crisis in those days. But the fact that he changed the media scene there cannot be disputed. In my view, the fundamental error he made was to plunge into the middle of things, rather than remaining a level-headed observer that a good journalist is supposed to be. He made an over-zealous effort to ingratiate himself with a section of the Goan society and failed miserably. The fact that even today his Goan credentials are questioned bears this out.
As everything has two sides, the Herald experiment (if one could call it that) too had its pros and cons. The single most significant achievement of Herald, in my opinion, was to raise a breed of bright young journalists who cut their teeth in journalism there. Most of them left disillusioned and bitter with the paper and its Editor, but they have done reasonably well elsewhere. But for Herald, they would not have come to this field.
And Herald did manage to provide some relief (comic relief, according to critics) from the tedious fare offered by the NT. It was sharp and pungent – too pungent for many. Almost every report packed a sting in its tail. Some of the fare dished out in the guise of investigative journalism was just gossip laced with outrageous bias. But all this lighted the scene up and served as a reminder to the NT to wake up and take notice.
Rajan Narayan never hesitated to name his rivals, especially the NT, while making disparaging remarks. The NT, on the other hand, took a diametrically opposite stance: it skirted controversies altogether. Its unwritten policy was never to report or comment on anything controversial, let alone naming names!
But that had to change to keep pace with the changing times. I lampooned Rajan Narayan in my columns occasionally, which Mudaliar permitted reluctantly. It must be said to Rajan Narayan's credit that he not only took my pot-shots in good humour, but, according to Herald sources, also stopped a couple of juniors who wanted to hit back at me.
I met Rajan Narayan only once; but then it was hardly a meeting. Rather, I saw him from a distance at a midnight carnival in Panjim. After the edition was over, my NT colleague Anthony and I decided to take a round. We saw Rajan Narayan surrounded by a group of revellers. In a red T-shirt and bermudas, with a red ribbon around his head and a glass of feni in hand, a wobbly Rajan Narayan with bleary eyes was quite a spectacle. Anthony nudged me and asked, "Can you imagine Mudaliar in such a scene?"
Never. Mudaliar was, by comparison, dapper. In fact, his first advice to me when I called on him for a job interview was to be always mindful of my reputation. "It's a small place. Everybody knows everybody. And liquor is cheap here," he had said.
I left Goa rather bitterly.
I fell out with Mudaliar over an innocuous remark in my column. I used to report the traditional cricket match between the legislators and journalists in the column in a running commentary form. That year (1989), the Legislators XI led by Chief Minister Rane trounced the Press XI, led by Mudaliar. I made a passing remark that age was apparently catching up with Mudaliar. He deemed it too personal, and stopped talking to me. There were enough people around to fan the fire; and he refused to recommend me for a promotion. One thing led to another and I soon decided that my future lay elsewhere.
But I've no hard feelings about anything now. In fact, I recall my days in Goa with nostalgia and gratitude. It was a turning point in my career and I fondly remember my association with a wonderful people. I learned many things in Goa that stood me in good stead in later life and it will always remain etched in my memory as a part of my youth.
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