Calvin Cares, But Others…

R. Rajagopal, the Editor at Large of The Telegraph, continues his close observation and analysis of the Indian media space and the manner in which mainstream newspapers covered serious developments such as the tragic fate of Rahim Ali, a resident of Kashimpur village in Assam’s Nalbari district, whose Indian citizenship was recently reinstated by the Supreme Court without knowing that he had died in his village two and a half years ago, in December 2021 at the age of 58. Ali was branded a foreigner and his citizenship was revoked by the Foreigners Tribunal in the State in 2012. In this analysis, Rajagopal also pays a tribute to EP Unny, Chief Political Cartoonist of The Indian Express (IE), highlighting the cartoon he drew on this issue. The IE editorial too is specially mentioned in this important media critique written by one of the tallest newspaper editors of the country. The AIDEM has sourced this from R Rajagopal’s social media posts.

Ruthlessness is the irreplaceable sidearm of cartooning. But every once in a while, the merciless craft drops the snub-nosed weapon and picks up the feather to offer a healing touch. EP Unny does so in The Indian Express, making Calvin pay graceful tribute to Rahim Ali, whose first name means compassion, something that was denied to him in life.

But Unny does not forget to wield the scalpel, referring to the risk that can be faced by those who, unwittingly or otherwise, showed compassion to Ali. The Express has a strong editorial also. I leave it you to find out which other newspapers followed up one of the most important stories after the general election.

The other day, I had told a sceptical friend that this is too big a story to be ignored by the rest of the media. I think I have largely been proved wrong. Calvin’s compassion reminds me of the farewell cartoon to Nehru by Rajinder Puri (which I am attaching below from Unny’s Twitter account). Puri was kind enough to treat me to coffee and scones (I heard the word first from him) and his vision of journalism at the Embassy Hotel (or was it the Ambassador? Delhi overdoses on diplomatic jargon) in Connaught Place when I gatecrashed his idyllic haunt when I was a student.

Unny unfailingly pays tribute with his craft to many people when they pass away or cross milestones. I am particularly touched by his tributes to artist Namboodiri and actor Irrfan Khan. I also recall now a cartoon that made me cry when Rajiv Gandhi was assassinated. Ungratefully, I cannot recall where I saw it or who drew it. Was it on Sunday magazine? It was a full-page cartoon showing Rajiv, who was a pilot, steering a flight to the skies, with the immortal words of Shakespeare: “Good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.”

If my friend Sumit, who was with Sunday, confirms and clarifies whose cartoon it was, I will let you know. 33 years later, Unny’s cartoon has done to me what I felt in 1991 when the cartoonist I cannot recall borrowed from Hamlet and Horatio. “Good night, Sweet Prince” would also have been the most apt headline I could not think up when Mansoor Ali Khan Pataudi died.

Deepayan Chatterjee, the wizard with words who passed the baton to me, told Sumit about that unwritten headline later. I was deeply affected by Pataudi’s death although I have been merciless when he was arrested in the hunting case. Technically, only technically, he was my colleague for three years because he was the editor of Sportsworld which was owned by the same management I worked for and located a floor below the newspaper I was with then although I have never met him.

The coverage of Pataudi’s death was also one of the first instances that informed my mentors that something is wrong with me — a reckless gene that runs amok once in a while — in the sense that I can get carried away by news events, unlike poker-faced editors who revel in affecting the inscrutable visage.

Shocked by the display, a journalist I respect the most told me the next day, poker-faced of course and the upper lip as stiff as Modi at that rare media conference: “I thought the Prime Minister died.” It was his polite way of suggesting I went overboard. I leave you with some of the farewell cartoons of Puri and Unny. I still harbour the hope that other newspapers will follow up the Ali story until the executive and judicial leadership takes note and puts in place checks and balances.