Chapter 12: The proof of it all…
Tony Martin
Tony Martin, the better-known pen-name of Anthony Barretto, worked his way through Goa's English-language newspapers, before shifting to education. He has gone into self-publishing, and, in his own modest and low-profile manner, has managed to put out books with a print-run of 5000 copies (amazing by Goa's standards). Currently, he is working on a website on Canacona.
Just an out-of-school teenager that I was, life then posed a 'Catch 22' situation when one first landed in Panjim. Without any experience, it was difficult to get work. Yet, at the same time, it was difficult to get experience because I couldn't get any work.
So one fine day armed with a recommendation from the late music maestro-priest Fr Lourdinho Barreto, who hailed from my village of Galgibaga in the southern extreme of Goa, to Fr Freddy for the post of proof reader I arrived at the Gulab office. This got an I'll-let-you-know from the editor.
Well at least I knew what job I was looking for.
Then, with a fantastic helping of luck I got a job with the Herald – oops actually it was with Norlic India, the firm shown as the employer of those doing the proof-reading of the Herald, in those days.
The job was as a proof reader, and the date was August 12, 1985.
To us, whether it was Norlic India or Herald did not then matter, I was getting my bread, so there was no point complaining about missing the cake.
But along with my bread, I also got a taste and a first-hand glimpse of what I had only heard of earlier – exploitation. Obviously the Norlic India tag was meant to deny us the applicable scales for proof-readers. We were almost like daily wage factory workers. Accept it or leave it. With pressing financial constraints, and at that time there wasn't even a functional union in the Herald (it came sometime later, and have worked in fits and starts) the option was clear: shut up and do your work or speak up and get kicked out.
All said just-enough-to-survive Rs 400 a month was still a luxury.
So I got myself testing the waters in the novitiate of journalism. For a tender 'naal' (coconut) like myself the sub-editors of the time – Anthony, Rico, Godwin Figueira and sports editor Nelson, to name a few – were exceptionally good. If I had peanuts for salary, I had gems for seniors.
For most people proofreading is basically checking spellings and omissions by the typesetter. It was not much different here. On the few occasions we, the humble proof-readers, particularly Jack, ventured to show our mastery in punctuation and grammar, the concerned sub-editor would get furious, of course in a playful way. Often we would end up exposing our ignorance to the world.
Ignorant or well-informed, those two years in the Herald were years of youthful exuberance and bliss.
And there was this noble soul Caetano. Well I call him a noble soul because even as the foreman of the composing section, he never gave me an opportunity to see him angry although we proof readers (which, of course, includes me) used to give him a chance to be angry almost every day.
One day when 'penis' became 'mightier than the sword', he laughed at it together with the subs, and then, after they had left, politely warned us to be careful. He had no special training in people-management; he had surely not attended any hi-fi seminars now conducted by self-proclaimed management gurus. Yet, if there was one thing he knew other than typing at an incredible speed, it was to keep his juniors motivated. We owed our productivity and effectiveness to him. He would challenge the Subs to a rupee for a mistake in a report or an article. On that count we didn't let him down, at least not often, even considering that overlooking errors in a straight read-through – without the luxury of checking print-outs, but doing the proofreading on the flickering screen itself – was a distinct possibility.
Ironically, on the few occasions, the editor, Rajan Narayan – he was not yet the super-man of the Herald then; he acquired almost that status during and after the language agitation – entered the composing room, we were just logs of dead wood for him. Not a side glance even to acknowledge our greeting. My view: perhaps all these years Mr Narayan was soaring too high on the pedestal the management had seated him on, after granting him a free hand. And as is the rule of nature, every thing that goes up comes down. And he came down with quite a bang.
But that was just a stray cloud in the silver lining the Herald offered. That indifference apart, our Herald innings is something to look back and laugh about. I can still sense the taste of the first sip of urak at an after-work session. Not long later, Remy and I crashing into a cow with my rickety cycle on our way to the Don Bosco Hostel. Time: around 3 a.m.
Another party we had in the office was a chicken party. Nice dry fried chicken. Courtesy Jack. Everybody had and there was still more to go around, much like in the Biblical parable of loaves-and-fishes. But nobody except Jack knew, until the next day, from where the chicken came. The next day a notorious looking man walked into the Herald office. To make bad matters worse he happened to meet the 'patrao', the publisher and then patriarch A. C. Fernandes. They talked a while and he left. The next moment the old man came charging and thundered, "Kal kombeo konnem adleo re?" (Who brought in the chicken yesterday?) "Aayem Patrao, mhaka rostear podlo mevloleo," (I, boss. I found it fallen on the road) Jack confessed not unlike a frightened rabbit. "Faleamson kamank enaka," (You're fired). And Patrao left. Of course all those who had enjoyed the chicken the previous day came to Jack's rescue.
In the good old days, the pace was leisurely, stresses fewer and everything was rosy. But the pay packet was not growing significantly heavier even after two years. I was stuck at Rs 500. We were free to ask the then Manager Gustavo Fernandes for anything except a raise. Asking for a raise was invariably met with a simply question, 'Do you want to continue?'
There was no choice. Choice came knocking with the arrival of Gomantak Times. And some of the more enterprising journos left their training ground and joined GT. But, to this day, Herald remains an enriching and fond experience.
Chapter 13: Birth pangs at Sant Inez
Elston Soares
Elston Soares, a veteran of the desk, has worked at the Herald, Newslink and Gomantak Times. Since moving out of Goa, he has worked in publications in the Gulf and Singapore.
February 15, 1987 marked a watershed in the history of English-language journalism in Goa. That date marked the launch of Goa's fifth English-language daily to be launched in the union territory-turned-state.
Fifth, that is, if one includes the now defunct West Coast Times and Newslink, an English-language newspaper launched by the Tarun Bharat Group, and targeted at Goa, though like the Tarun Bharat in Marathi earlier, it too was printed from the neighbouring city of Belgaum.
This writer spent two months with Newslink in late 1986 in Belgaum, together with Haseeb Shakoor and Derek Almeida, bringing out the newspaper in very trying and primitive conditions.
Strangely, the Tarun Bharat group then thought that they could do another Tarun Bharat with Newslink, that is, to produce a newspaper for the Goa market from Belgaum. But with one significant difference.
We did not have the wide correspondent network of Tarun Bharat. We were, instead, expected to translate the stories from Marathi – something we did rather more successfully in Gomantak Times a few years later.
But then, at Belgaum, this was a task easier said than done. And as anyone who has tried translating stories from Goa's Marathi press will testify, most stories contain enormous amount of comment and a large number of them are un-sourced.
Our plight could therefore be well imagined. Things I guess have become somewhat better in the last few years; but then it was a nightmare. Trying to fill up six broad-sheet pages with material translated from Tarun Bharat was way too optimistic a goal, to put it mildly. So at best you managed a couple of pages. The rest of the paper was trusty old teleprinter copy, courtesy UNI (United News of India) and PTI (Press Trust of India).
And as for our own reporting resources, there was Lionel Messias who slaved all alone in the Panaji office. This couldn't last. So in early December 1986, when the Gomantak Group advertised for staff, I jumped at the opportunity and applied. Besides being a good opportunity to return home from Belgaum – anyway one used to travel home every week – the adventure of being there as a newspaper was being born was too good to miss.
Not that I was totally unfamiliar with the birth pangs of newspapers – having joined the Herald as a trainee when it was a few months old and Newslink when it was in a similar position. But, birth pangs or whatever, there's nothing like competition to add a little excitement. It shakes up established players, and all the poaching for staff only pushes up salaries and gives hitherto ignored journalists their day in the sun.
I too was offered more money – more than double my last salary drawn in the Herald – which I had quit a few months earlier in less than happy circumstances. Meanwhile, just as Gomantak Times was about to be launched, Rajan Narayan in his inimitable style launched a broadside against the to-be-launched newspaper. For days, he wrote about how the Maharashtrawadis were planning take over Goa's English-language media. Never mind that most of the to-be-launched paper's staff were old Herald hands.
However, GT – as the paper was later referred to – seemed on to making great progress as we neared launch date. For the first time in the history of Goa's English-language media, we had newspaper designers working on what the paper would look like. A two-man team from what was then Bombay was paid a princely sum of Rs 25,000 to come up with the new design.
But that was where the good news stopped. The company which had sold the Chowgules the desk-top publishing equipment for the new newspaper had amazingly been able to convince the management that there was no need for paste-up artists. So there we were, trying to put together a newspaper without artists or computer operators or journalists who could do screen-based page layout.
There were no dummy runs; in fact, on the night before the first edition, I was forced to call one Herald's former paste-up artists to come in and help produce the paper. Today, all this may sound strange – given the technological innovations of the last decade – but then it was crazy, particularly given that the Chowgules had a fully functioning newspaper Gomantak and should have known better.
Then to the issue of staff recruitment, and and one of my pet peeves.
Goan newspaper managements have always hired journalists from outside the state – at exorbitant salaries – believing them to be better than local talent. And so was the case with GT, where my then chief-sub colleague, a sub from the Times of India, was paid twice as much as I was. But just because they are imported, foreign talent isn't always good or suitable for the job at hand. This Bombay veteran was such a miserable creature that on launch night, with editor Mohan Rao shouting his head off, one was forced take charge and ensure that we got the paper to the press.
But no mention of this paper's launch can be complete without a mention of the role Gomantak editor Narayan Athawale played. While generally supportive of the idea of the newspaper in the early days, including recommending the hiring of staff whose knowledge of the language was less than adequate, he almost knocked the paper off its feet before it was launched.
For this the late Mr Rao was to blame; but it was an innocent mistake. A few days before the launch, Mr Rao asked Mr Athawale to write a piece for the new newspaper – it remains the only one he ever did.
And with good reason.
In it, he proceeded to say that the new newspaper would convey the views of the Marathi Gomantak in English. It was a ridiculous claim; but something that the new newspaper took years to live down. This proved to be a real gift to the paper's rivals, which they exploited to good effect.
The early days with GT were fun, because most people didn't give us much of a chance. Our staff resources too were meagre. There was Pramod Khandeparker, who was the Assistant Editor but was more of a chief reporter; and a retired English professor M.N. Pal as news editor – who spent a few months with us – and G.K. Mohan Nair, the ToI sub.
Ex-Herald colleagues included Francis Ribeiro. And among the trainees was my good friend Vidya Heble. But most of the staff were raw and we stumbled along in those early days. The first year passed with GT barely making a dent. I believe that the paper's circulation barely exceeded a few hundred copies. And as the second anniversary approached, Mr Mohan Rao was preparing to say his goodbye. He original brief was to set up the paper and leave after two years.
This set the stage for Ashwin Tombat to take charge of the paper. And immediately we began to see a dramatic change in the paper's fortunes. Of course, we were helped along by the Narvekar molestation scandal. But to be fair, it's not the issue that matters, but how you handle it. If we did manage to raise our circulation it was because of our reporting. Some in media, did take exception to the fact that we named the girl.
But I feel it was needed then, specially if you have are up against a powerful political figure. For those who still doubt this view, I can only point to the way the Miramar sex scandal died down without the guilty being brought to book. However, one is not suggesting that the victim in sex abuse cases should be named. The only reason I have raised this issue is to explain why the girl was named.
Sorry for digressing; but another turning point in the history of paper came in 1993 when we were faced with a contempt notice from the Supreme Court. Sadly, this proved to me that whatever a management tells you, if you get into trouble you face it alone. In the case in question, we were hauled up for what was taken to be a suggestion, in a cartoon, that a Supreme Court judge was being bribed to adjourn a hearing in a case related to the disqualification of then chief minister Ravi Naik.
How I got involved in the matter – even though it was my day off – is another matter. But the real icing on the cake was that what the court claimed we had suggested in the cartoon apparently was the truth. Unknown to us then, a colleague in our sister newspaper had apparently tried to bribe a judge. But the deal had fallen through because the judge wanted more money than the politician was willing to pay. The story came out when the journalist apparently did not return all the money that he was given by politician and claimed he had incurred "expenses".
Ravi Naik ultimately resigned, ironically after himself losing an appeal against his disqualification in the Supreme Court; and I was cleared of contempt charges.
Two years later I left GT.
But the memories remain.
Chapter 14: An era of free sheeters
Miguel Braganza
Having an educated father with a flair for speaking and writing helps : Miguel's is a typical case study. As a school student of St.Britto, his contributions to the school magazine were like a celebrity column – ghost written by his father! His first original contribution to the printed word was in a tabloid, bilingual 'free sheeter' of sorts called the 'Vanguard' ('O Vanguardo') in the mid 1970s. While at the University of Agricultural Sciences,Bangalore, he was a founder-member of the "Writers' Club" and one-time Editor of the FYM: the Farm Yard Manure..ooops…Magazine. Since then, Miguel has been Goa University's first and only Garden Superintendent. He took to writing more seriously after getting in touch with journos in local newsrooms. He became the first Consulting Editor of the Mapusa Plus free-sheeter in July 2001.
Just imagine a user-driven economy in which the user has to only pay attention; absolutely nothing else. This improbable scenario has arrived in an increasingly consumerist society with the birth of the 'free sheeter ', now making their presence felt in Goa too.
Unlike the mainstream broad-sheet and tabloid newspapers, the user can take home a free-sheeter free of cost and with no obligation, save the ethical one to read it. There is no fine print to this free offer. The offer does not read 'Do not pay anything for it now' nor 'Nothing free'. The reader obtains a copy of the free sheeter absolutely free of any financial consideration, present or future.
There is also a greater freedom of expression in a free sheeter since the publication is not tied to the apron strings of a business house or interest group with vested interests. The degree of freedom available to the editor is almost boundless, though within the limits of decency, propriety and libel laws. The editor cannot be allowed to declare freedom from good sense and decency. This is possible only because of the multifaceted funding base that finances the free sheeter and, often, the dedication of the editorial team. A free-sheeter does not have to toe a line that many of its bigger cousins make their way of life.
What is a free-sheeter?
A simple description of a free-sheeter is a periodical (daily, weekly, fortnightly or monthly) that is made available to its readers at no financial consideration whatsoever in terms of price, subscription, membership or donation. (I will attempt no further definition and I do not know is a proper definition exists for a free-sheeter.)
The lowest frequency expected of a free-sheeter is an issue a month. Frequencies less than that tend to render a free-sheeter irrelevant and it cannot sustain its readership. It is the readership that justifies the existence of a free sheeter and helps to draw funds to finance its publication. The existence of the readership is the raison d'etre of a free-sheeter.
News Content: People do not lose interest in issues just because the mainstream newspapers and tabloids do not carry them on their front-pages. There is always an interest in the 'positive' things happening around us. There is as much interest in the fisherman who saved six persons from drowning as there is in the one person that drowned while swimming at a beach side resort. The drowning hogs the headlines in the mainstream newspapers and tabloids. There is 'space' in the free-sheeter to portray the hero of the event, the humble fisherman who saved six lives. People want to read about him even if he saved them simply because of an impulse, or just because he could not bear to see them die! Bravery and courage do not need to be pre-qualified or rationalized. Brave deeds have a readership in the land of Rana Pratap, Rani of Jhansi and Shivaji, just as in the land of Napoleon Bonaparte or George Washington or Nelson Mandela or Winston Churchill.
Local news is another 'blind spot' in mainstream newspapers. This is often the result of the need to make the newspaper meaningful to a wider readership. You cannot focus on details when using a wide-angle lens in your camera. The same holds good for a newspaper. The free-sheeter, on the other hand, can be like the 'camera lucida' and put local issues under the microscope and draw out all the minute details.
While the newspaper only sees a fine air-conditioned restaurant with a fantastic menu, the free-sheeter can note that the cook uses the same broom to sweep the floor and also to dispense oil on the king-sized hot plate for making your favorite 'dosa'. A good free-sheeter can give you the details that most newspapers have no access to. In the local context, a free-sheeter has an advantage.
The editorial team of a free-sheeter normally comprises of local people. It is, thus, in a better position to understand local nuances, culture and tradition. For example, a woman who is topless may cause a riot in our metropolitan cities; in some tribal areas, remote Polynesian communities or the beach-front from Hawaii to the Riviera, a topless woman may not even cause anyone to raise an eyebrow, except if she is exceedingly beautiful! The local perspective makes a free-sheeter interesting to the local readership because they can identify with it.
Local issues are of great interest to local readership. What is being done about the water pipeline leak is important to those living on the first floor of buildings in the locality. Poor pressure in the pipeline means that the water will have to go to a sump and then be pumped up. Besides the cost, time and effort, this could also lead to increased contamination of water. A small pipeline leak in a neighbourhood has no news value to a mainstream newspaper. It means the world to the people in the locality that is affected. Such issues have local news value and, hence, the justification of a greater emphasis on local readership. This is where a free-sheeter can step in.
Editorial Content: The right place to express one's views is in the editorial and in the feed-back column. It may be regarding the news or current issues or some other matter of importance to the readers at that point of time. The fact that a significant section of the readership skips reading the editorial should make the editors sit up and assess the relevance of the editorials they write, or get written on their behalf. Just as the front page is the 'face' of the periodical, the editorial should be its 'heart', not a vestigial organ like the appendix.
In the free-sheeter context, it would be appropriate to put the editorial through the 'Four Way Test': "1. Is it the truth? 2. Is it fair to all concerned? 3. Will it built goodwill and better friendship? 4. Will it be beneficial to all concerned?" The editorial is about opinions. The editor's views should not create ill-will between possible groups in the local milieu. It can have disastrous consequences for both, the readers and the publishers.
Advertorial Content: The term 'advertorial' is fairly new to me. It is the presentation of an advertisement 'outside the box'. The advertorial content of many periodicals, both free and paid, has evolved so rapidly that it is sometimes difficult it to separate it from the news items. The 'lakshman rekha' (sacrosanct dividing line) between the two has even blurred further and some journalists palm off advertorials as 'news'. The 'line of control' may have to be redefined before newspapers become like the souvenirs issued at various social events – comprising almost entirely of advertisements. This is specially true for a free-sheeter that depends solely on advertising to finance its publication. The temptation is great. Yield to it with open arms and you will perish.
Advertisements: Front page advertisements vie with the news items for space. Sometimes, the fascination with the ear panels diminishes the prominence of even the mast-head, the very name of the publication. Since the cost of a front page advertisement is double (or more) that of one on the inside pages, the temptation is to accept maximum number of front page advertisements. It is a constant battle between funds and readability, between wealth and credibility. It is not rare to see Mammon win the battle and it shows on the 'face' of the free-sheeter that has two-thirds advertisements and just one-third news content on page one.
Mast-head: The mast-head is the name-plate of the periodical. Unlike the name of a person, whose traits we do not know at birth, the name of a newspaper is indicative of its purpose or focus. (For example, the O Heraldo was the harbinger of news in Goa during the pre-Liberation era and continues to this day with a Goan accent; the Navhind Times brought in more national level – and nationalist – news after 1961 ,while the Gomantak Times has more of a state level flavor.)
Among the free-sheeters published in Goa, Vasco Watch keeps a watchful eye on the happenings in Vasco while the Plus group sheds 'positive light' on Mapusa, Panaji, Margao and Ponda. A lot of thought goes into condensing of the 'mission statement' of a newspaper or periodical into two or three, easy-to-remember words. The name seems easy in hindsight, but requires considerable foresight and thinking to arrive at.
The mast-head must not only be good, it must look good, too.
Proper designing of the mast-head, including the selection of the font, is imperative. Ideally, the mast-head should not be changed during the lifetime of the periodical, even if the page design and layout is changed to increase its visual appeal. The mast-head must be the single-most prominent item on page one. All attributes of the publication must be associated with its mast-head. Once you see it, you must remember its worth, its credibility and its readability.
Footer: The footer of a newspaper or free-sheeter comes in fine print at the bottom of the last page. It is inconspicuous to the casual reader. It gives the details of the publisher, editor(s) and printer. This is mandatory by law. In libel and defamation cases, these names become the 'defendants' along with the correspondent under whose by-line the news was published. The Advertisements Standards Council of India (ASCI) also knows who, besides the advertiser, to go after for violation of the law. The footer also gives the registration number of the newspaper with the Registrar of Newspapers (RNI). Every free-sheeter has to apply for registration through the District Collector. The organization distributing and issuing the free-sheeter is not free from responsibilities. The footer is an acknowledgment that it knows its business and how to mind it.
Organization: A free-sheeter is not like a free-wheeling collection of articles and news reports. Like any periodical it has to be organized into sections like current news, issues, campus and club news, entertainment, competitions, brain teasers, and the like. Such a grouping of information makes it easier to find the item one is looking for. A person will first glance through the page that is likely to contain information of interest to him or her. If it is interesting, the copy will be picked up. Free-sheeters are generally not 'delivered' at home; so each issue has to pass the clinical test of reader's interest.
Layout: A tasty dish that is not presented well may be left untouched on the buffet table. The same is the case with a free-sheeter at the news stands or distribution counter. It is not a monopoly. People who have a choice exercise it. A good blend of visuals (photos, illustration, and the like) and text makes a copy appealing. Even advertisements can be used to achieve this. If the publication has access to a layout artist, it helps.