Professor P.K. Ravindranath is a familiar
name both in English and regional press in India. Since last six decades he is
silently continuing his work with passion and dedication. This veteran of
Indian media has several accolades to his credit. To name a few they starts
from correspondent, sub-editor, film editor of Free Press Journal, freelance
writer, bureau chief, political analyst, organizer, activist, columnist, writer
and translator, Press Advisor of Maharashtra Chief Minister, Director of Nehru Centre,
editor, consulting editor and teacher of journalism.
Based on the numerous
interactions with Professor P.K. Ravindranath at quite a few occasions spanned over
a period of one and half decades and mainly on the data provided by him I have
done this cover story. I consider this cover story is a summarised version or
glimpses from his life story. In fact I
wanted to write more meticulously about him and several incidents of his life
in detail, which have historical, social, cultural, political, linguistic and
literary values. Therefore I am planning to write P.K. Ravindranath’s biography
and already started the research work and data compilation. A documentary film
on him is also my dream project.
Professor P.K. Ravindranath is epitome of simplicity,
dignity, genuineness, beauty, experience, knowledge, authenticity and truth.
You cannot see any similar person in Indian media of his stature with vivid experience
of life. His persona is unique and he is really a role model of ethics and
purity.
To be a true Indian you must develop the culture of the Indian Army, avers
P.K. Ravindranath. That alone will instil
in you patriotism, selflessness, discipline and to think and act as a member of
the great human race.
He himself had never been an army man, but the first decade of his
formative years were spent in an army hill-station, Maymyo in Central Burma,
where he went first to a convent school, then to an Arya Samaj school. He imbibed the best of both – the Catholic
faith and the reformist Hindu system of life.
Being an army cantonment, he would roam freely on a bicycle all around
the town, which kept him healthy and free from ailments.
He went to primary school in a government-run high school, whose headmaster
was a former adjutant in the British Army.
Then World War II broke out. Ravindranath and his family consisting of his
parents and five siblings caught the last steamer from Rangoon back to Madras
in 1940. Indians after him had to trek
through unfriendly terrain and seek refuge in India through Assam.
His earliest recollection is sitting on the lap of Mahakavi Vallathol, who
had come to his house during a tour of Burma with his Kathakali troupe, and reciting
a poem. Another memory is of a Velichapad biting off the head of a live cock
during a homam at his uncle’s house in Calicut, which had a Kuttichathan
kavu attached to it. As a six-year old it revolted him.
Back in Calicut in 1940 “as a refugee” the next seven years were gruelling
ones – poverty stricken, inability to adjust to life in a joint family,
difficulty at school with Malayalam language, which ultimately forced him to
seek exemption from that subject for his S.S.L.C. examination. By the time he
reached college, at the Zamorin’s College, he had come to grips with
Malayalam. Financial inability to pursue
his studies after Senior Intermediate (the present plus-two stage) he landed up
in Mumbai.
His high school and college days coincided with the last phase of the
freedom struggle – the Quit India movement. He became an active member of the Student’s
Congress, which brought him in touch with a whole generation of selfless
national leaders, including the redoubtable Krishna Pillai and A.K. Gopalan and
a whole array of Congress leaders who sacrificed much for the nation.
In Mumbai, he landed a job with the Kuwait Oil Company and was sent to
Kuwait – a job he badly needed to help the family. It lasted for only ten
months, for he along with a group of 19 and 20-year old employees of the
company could not stand the haughty attitude of the British and American bosses
of the KOC. They called a strike, and
the entire operations of the mighty company came to a standstill for five days.
Ultimately, the Sheikh himself intervened and promised to get the grievance
of the “Indian brothers” redressed.
Within a week Ravindranath, along with a dozen other “rig leaders” of
the strike were rounded up the Kuwait police and packed off to Bombay on a
waiting ship.
Then followed a series of jobs – “some like hawking a special brand of phenyl
and another procuring printing order for a commercial printing press in the
Fort”.
Then, he sent an application – the only one he sent in his life – to S.
Sadanand, the editor of The Free Press Journal. He was called for an
interview and within fifteen minutes was appointed a sub-editor. He worked for five years in the FPJ – till
1955. That year he was called and offered a job in “The Times of India”. Before he joined, the TOI discovered that was
not a graduate and asked for the return of the appointment letter. By then Ravindranath had become aware of the
laws of the employment and terms and conditions pertaining to a job. “Give me
the contracted salary for the next thirty years and I will return the letter,”
he told the Management. He knew by then
that the Editor of the TOI, the Chief Reporter, The Chief of Bureau and several
other heads of departments were not graduates. Then why single him out?
The management compromised. It allowed him to work, on condition that he
would get a degree “soon”. In two years time, he got one. In another three
years he had procured a post-graduate degree in political science and
sociology, “which I found were very helpful for my profession”.
Then he registered for a doctorate, when the general manager, J.C. Jain
asked him: “What next?” By then, he had become totally immersed in the
journalists’ struggle for higher wages, security of service and better working
conditions.” He had become Chairman of
the Bombay Union of Journalists and was elected the Treasurer of the Indian
Federation of Working Journalists.
He had occasions to go round the country on behalf of these organisations
settling disputes with managements and ensuring that harmonious conditions
prevailed in the newspaper industry.
As a newspaperman, he found that this early influences in life, gave him a
healthy outlook in dealing with communal riots, attitudes towards the minority
communities and the pernicious caste system in the country. A series of
articles in the Times of India, The Illustrated Weekly of India, The
Economic Times, The Filmware and the Femina followed. In ten years times, it was his boast that he
could walk into any English language newspaper in the country and say: “I am
P.K. Ravindranath. I want a job, and I
would get it on the spot.”
All this brought him to the notice of political leaders, social activist
and makers of public opinion in the country.
His interest in Malayalam drama, films and all other social activities
endeared him to film makers, the theatre fraternity in Bombay and
elsewhere. He came to close to a number
of leading journalists in the country, several top Congress and other political
leaders in the country.
Then came emergency and the strict imposition of censorship on the
press. He was shocked at the way some
journalists who had been critical of emergency rule were hounded out and imprisoned
without trial. The then editor of the
TOI he found did not back him on a crucial issue concerning a news item, which
“pertained to prominent friend of the Establishment.” He resigned his job in August 1976. “I should have left the TOI ten years
earlier,” he lamented. “I had everything
by then, a known byeline, ample experience and contacts.”
He joined the National Herald but within a year, thanks to the changing
political fortunes, the Heralad was under a lockout. “I was left with a staff
of six whom I had recruited and had to ensure their monthly wages were paid –
with no money coming in from Lucknow, the headquarters of the Herald group.
*****
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He managed, with help from friends in the advertising agencies till 1980.
Then, A.R. Antulay became the Chief Minister.
By the Ravindranath had also become the Bureau Chief of the Mathrubhumi
in Mumbai. He had been close to the Mathrubhumi
since 1957, when he covered important news from the city and Maharashtra under
the name of his wife – Tara Menon. So
when he was sacked by the National Heralad at the instance of Antulay, who felt
“he belonged to the enemy camp,” he had no problem.
He was sacked by the Mathrubhumi management in 1986, when he publicly corrected
an agency head who said “The Mathrubhumi” is the only real people’s paper in
the country.” Ravindranath countered: “No longer. It is now run by Plantation Owners and Lorry
Operators.” Prompt came his marching
orders.
Two years of freelancing were “profitable years, since I earned more than I
ever did in another job. Writing editorials, edit page articles, reviews,
interviews and the like.” But then working hours were flexible- early morning
to midnight and later to meet deadlines. There were no computers and no
telephone facilities,” he recalls.
Then came the call to join the Chief Minister’s Secretariat. Sharad Pawar
was the newly elected Chief Minister whom Ravindranath had known intimately
since 1977, when he too was a non-conformist with the Emergency. On persuasion
he joined him as his Press Adviser. “It was a great experience. I came to know
how the government works from within.” In those years he wrote “Sharad Pawar:
the Making of a Modern Maratha,” published in 1992. By then Pawar had gone to
Delhi as Union Defence Minister. In 1992, Ravindranath moved over as Director
(Publications) of Nehru Centre, of which he had been a founder member and Hon.
Director of Publications. He was removed from this honorary job too by Antulay
when he took over as ipso facto President of Nehru Centre, when he became the
Chief Minister. Years later, when Ravindranath led the delegation of Mumbai Malayalis
to meet Antulay, the MP from Ratnagiri, to ask for the special train services
from Mumbai to Thiruvanathapuram, Antulay told him “You know things happened.
They should not have, it is all God’s mercy.” Ravindranath agreed, in full
satisfaction that he had contributed immeasurably to oust Antulay from the
Chief Ministership following the Cement Scandal. “I wasted 25 years of my
political life,” he lamented then.
In 1984 he had written “Chandrashekhar: A Political Biography”. He also
wrote “Sardar Patel in a New Perspective”. “A Slice of Life,” and a coffee
table book “Iyer Weddings”.
Since 2000 when the Mumbai University introduced the BMM (Bachelor of Mass
Media course) he had been called to conduct classes in various colleges. In the
last decade has turned out over 200 journalists, who now adorn good positions
in the print and electronic media. “All committed to the righteous journalism”.
From 1978 to 1986 Ravindranath ran a very popular column in
Mathrbhumi-“Maharashtra Kathu” (Maharashtra newsletter, which caught the
attention of the entire political leadership of Kerala.
Married to Tara Dharadhar, Ravindranath has three children-Jayesh, Anuja
and Naresh, all well settled in life and who look back to Kerala as their
second home. Tara has been a social activist and is an active member of the
Kerala Mahila Samaj, of which she has been the General Secretary and President
one time. She is also an active member of the Mumbai Grahak Panchayat, a
consumer organisation, which provides for members all household commodities at
fair prices and exact weight.
Ravindranath has translated Keshavadev’s “Ayalkar” as “Neighbours” (Sahitya
Academy), N P Muhammed and M T Vasudevan Nair’s “Arab Gold” (Arabi Ponnu) Rupa
and M T Vasudevan Nair’s “Randamoozham” (“Second Turn”-Macmillan). He has
published six books on journalism for students of the BMM course for which
there was an acute dearth of textbooks. They are: “The Art of Editing,” Lectures
on Broadcast Journalism, Indian Regional Journalism, Press Laws and Ethics,
News Media Management and Contemporary Issues. They have proved to be a boon
for a whole generation of students of journalism, for whom there were no books
in the Indian context on these subjects.
I am sure that my esteemed readers will wonder when they hear that
Professor P.K. Ravindranath turned 83 now and he stayed only seven years in
Kerala in these years. Still he has contributed much to Malayalam journalism
and literature. Like his trademark white shirt-white pants attire resembles the
purity of his outer personality, his calm and quiet face with a serene a smile
wrapped with ‘I know it’ mark presents
his limpidness. Like the purity signature he carries with his clothing, his
face reveals his inner beauty.
(Published in the Whiteline Journal Magazine, June 2010 issue as
Cover Story)
