As for the writer of this chapter, one carried on writing… and enjoying it immensely. But for most of the past 20 years, that has been for an audience largely outside the Herald. By some quirk of fate, one managed to leave the Herald exactly after four years, as planned. (Thanks to statehood, the Deccan Herald decided to have it's first full-time staff correspondent in Goa. Work on the news-desk was fast ceasing to be a challenge, and the politics on the job also made life difficult, even if the team that worked there had a good team spirit and a youthful have-fun attitude towards life.) Also, as planned, one put in a two-line resignation letter.
As anticipated, my absence there was not viewed as a loss; anyone who stayed on too long got the feeling he or she was becoming a liability — or that the law of diminishing returns were applying. Whatever may have been my failings, some of my colleagues pointed to the fact that this writer was one of the few who had been around from Day One, and was known for his attempts to bring out a good product. Paste-up artists would comment, "The day you leave, there will be a lot of disappointment." I suffered from no such delusions. In part, because nobody is indispensible. In greater part, because one was aware of the attitude of Rajan Narayan towards anyone who might one-day be competition.
Right I was. When I told Rajan of my decision, he had just one question in mind: where are you going? On being told that it was the Deccan Herald, a visible sign of relief appeared on his brow. Not only was one not joining the Gomantak Times, then viewed as the looming-on-the horizon competition, but also another journo was getting out of the way. Or at least, that was how one intrepreted it.
Perhaps one was not wrong. Since then, one was at Deccan Herald for the first seven years, a period during which staffers were not officially allowed to write for other publications. But, since 1995, when one went into full-time freelancing, never did one feel welcome to write for the Herald, whenever Rajan Narayan was around. On the contrary, doing this would make one feel like an encroacher or illegal alien overstaying his welcome at a place not wanted.
At one stage, Rajan Narayan went for his lengthy treatment, leaving behind no editorials for the paper. Having never apparently encouraged anyone to rise to the task of writing editorials, he apparently often used this as his bargaining chip (as has happened recently). Unlike in other papers, where the middle-level journalists write the editorial, here the space was very much Rajan's fiefdom. Being into freelancing, and wanting to take up the challenge, one wrote a set of 50 or so editorials during one of his periods of extended absences during the 'nineties. This was done at the request of the newspaper management, and the staff apparently appreciated the move. Yet, on his return, and probably realising that churning out this many pieces — that too, all on issues related to Goa — could be done by someone else too, Rajan went on to write his editorial which claimed "friends in Goa and Bombay are eager to bury me…" . Or something to that effect. The "friend' in Bombay was, one guesses, Alwyn Fernandes, a former Times of India journalist, who at one stage was actively considering taking over the editorship of the Herald.
(At a later tenure, after the Herald faced a crisis when chief reporter Julio Da Silva suddenly opted for contesting an assembly election on a BJP ticket, rather than staying on in journalism. Since one had turned to freelancing, contributing to a local daily sounded a good idea. This continued for some time, till, again, Rajan Narayan's return resulted in getting the feeling of being unwanted.)
At the end of the day — though nobody should try to write a premature obit for his influence on Goan journalism — Rajan will probably be known for what he has written. Not for what he made sure didn't surface. In this context, it is perhaps important to put down these perspectives on the record, so that the future could have other views from which to judge contemporary journalism in Goa.
Chapter 8: Rural Goa, unheard, unsung…
Melvyn S. MisquitaMelvyn S Misquita represents a trend among some of the younger journalists — well-educated (he holds two M.A. degrees), Net-savvy, and eager to extend the boundaries of journalism in Goa should be looking at, apart from just the Secretariat. Recently, his work made it to the news in a major way, when the Indian Express carried a large spread in its national-edition on how Misquita had traced the strange story of the sinking of a World War II British passenger liner, BritanniaIII, which had dozens of Goans (including one of Misquita's grand-uncle's) on board.
If my entry into journalism was accidental, working with rural correspondents in Goa was equally unexpected. One morning of May 1998, then editor of the Gomantak Times, Ashwin Tombat, asked me to handle local correspondents who were contributing to the newspaper. He assured me that correspondents were an integral part of the newspaper and, that, a strong network would play a vital role in strengthening the newspaper.