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Journalism of Courage
He wanted an epitaph for his mother. And he wanted me to find one from the Bible that summed up her personality 8212; one, above all, of gentleness. I found some verses I thought would fit the bill. No, none of them satisfied him. 8220;She was a gentle person who gently passed away,8221; he explained. In the hurly-burly of daily life, I forgot to check what epitaph he finally chose.
That was Pulimoottil Tharyan, the quintessential edit writer, trying to encapsulate his mother in one word. As he said once, 8220;Give the heading first, the edit will come automatically.8221; In a career spanning over three decades he disproved many an assumption about journalists. He showed that even in their cut-throat world, one could remain eternally cheerful, speak no evil, help the needy and remain perpetually alert to all that happened around him. Though he specialised in politics, he did not care to tell anyone that he had majored in economics from Christian College, Madras. He would have followed in the footsteps of his fatherPunnoose Tharyan, who made his mark as an English teacher, but for a quirk of fate that brought him into The Indian Express and mainstream journalism.
It would have been a real nightmare supporting his family but for Khushwant Singh offering him a leader-writer8217;s job in the Hindustan Times. For the first time he realised the virtues of security of tenure and timely payment of salaries. Having edited a newspaper, many in his position would have found the new job infra dig. But not Tharyan, who found happiness in turning out an edit a day on topics as varied as Laloo8217;s peccadilloes and El Nino. He never boasted about his days as an editor, though he enjoyed recounting anecdotes to his select band of friends.
One such incident occurred during the Assam agitation, which Tharyan had gone to cover. A chainsmoker, he ran out of cigarettes while interviewing then AASU chief and now Chief Minister P.K. Mahanta. He turned to a lanky young man who was standing there, took out some money and requested him to fetch a packet of cigarettes. The young man complied. Tharyan realised that the errand boy was none other than Phukan, the number-two in the organisation and later Deputy Chief Minister.
In a profession of competing egos, he was conspicuously ego-less. He had bosses who had once deferentially waited upon him. They found in him the ideal second-in-command. But he was an ideal boss too, who would delegate authority, as I can vouchsafe from my experience as his deputy in Patna8217;s Hindustan Times. He was a person who begot trust. As he gently passed away8217; on Tuesday, the world became poorer by a cheerful, unassuming, thorough gentleman.
