Interviewing P. Sainath

It was one of those days when you think nothing special will happen. I was sitting in my room when I saw a mail from a professor.

“Dear Hriday, P. Sainath will be in the University. Could you come up with a list of questions to interview him?”

My jaw dropped.

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P. Sainath has been a crusader in print media, and a legend in journalistic circles. He heads the Rural Affairs section of The Hindu, and you might not believe this, but before him, not a single paper even carried a page on Rural Affairs. His book ‘Everybody Loves a Good Drought‘ won the Pulitzer Prize and with the money he has set up an organisation that encourages journalism among rural youth. He spends about 300 days a year in rural areas, and you won’t see him on television channels on news panels.

I was excited.

I started preparing my list of questions a few days in advance.

I had only seen a few of his interviews on YouTube, and they were all either speeches he was giving at some event, or interviews to people who were probably recording through their mobile phones.

And I noticed he wasn’t the most curt of people. He would randomly throw in words like ‘bullshit’ and ‘fuck’. This was going to be fun!

Now, I have watched interviews and news shows since I was in my Primary School. Since the TV is among the least democratic places at any Indian home, I had no option but to watch news interviews throughout my childhood.

Karan Thapar’s interview of Kapil Dev (which I wrote about here) has remained etched in my mind. It was when I first noticed how much power the interviewer wields over the interview. Arnab Goswami used to fascinate me for a few years, but then I saw him interview Bal Thackeray once, and the way he fell flat and licked his feet like a pussy, made me cringe.

I thought about it a lot. What sort of an interview was I going to conduct?

I didn’t want Sainath to think of the interview as just some random college interview that had some ‘safe’ questions.

Now, let’s talk about the scenario.

It was 2011. India had won the World Cup a few months back. Weeks later, Anna Hazare had started his campaign, and the nation was up in arms. Facebook was full of posts and pictures called ‘I am Anna’, and a few of my classmates unfriended each other on FB because they didn’t agree on Anna’s stance.

I had seen a few interviews of Sainath where he had spoken about how Anna’s recommendation of a Lokpal was screwed, as only the elite could be a member of the Lokpal committee. He meticulously pointed out that none of the members could be democratically elected.

I had a starting point.

Another of Sainath’s pet peeves is the way media functions in the country. He loves to give the example of the India Fashion Week, where 500 journalists covered an event where clothes that were worn by 1% of the country were displayed. At the same time, the number of journalists who cover the farmer suicides in Vidarbha is a pittance.

As a media student, I had my second question.

Upon further digging, I found that on one hand Sainath was proud that the media was partly responsible for starting the anti-corruption movement (something that he had been talking about for years). At the same time, he was angered by how the entire movement had become an event on Facebook, with nepotism and jingoism overtaking logic.

I had found my line of fire !

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I sent my questions to the department and apart from a few changes, the list was okayed.

I was to conduct the interview with another classmate, and I had to remind myself that this was not a class debate, and I couldn’t simply stand up and shoot off my opinion. I had to wait and listen, and then ask questions when the person was done.

I read up on how to be a good interviewer. I saw some interviews of my favourite guys – Thapar, John Lipton, Stephen Fry. I imagined how the interview would happen, playing it over and over in my head.

I had long hair back then, and much against my wishes I got them cut. Feeling a bit like Samson without his locks, I stood in front of whatever mirrors were left in our hostel toilets, and practiced my expressions. I put on my pedophile glasses and a new kurta.

You could say, I was suitably prepared.

After his address at the University’s auditorium, Sainath walked into the department.

 

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The interview began slowly, like the first few overs of a Test match.

I bowled a few outside off, and Sainath looked at them carefully, and safely blocked them with a straight bat.

I remember thinking about this analogy. That I was a fast bowler, and if I bowled too safe, I would only get cover drives. I was looking for the lofted six over long on. As I said, I was on my own trip!

The questions got a bit riskier.

I had attended his address, and I tweaked the questions a little bit.

“You had spoken about Gandhi being a prolific journalist. Do you think he would have approved of the Anna campaign that’s going on right now?”

Now, I should admit there is no point to such questions, really. It’s a hypothetical question, and no one would really know for sure. But such questions make for ‘quote-worthy’ replies, and I persisted.

I saw him flinch, and turn away. He sounded a bit agitated. Ha!

As the interview progressed, he got more and more animated.

The topics then moved on to the media, and why the media doesn’t cover news about rural affairs. He had spoken about this a lot, but I thought that for a media college, it had a lot of relevance.

That did it!

He flew into top gear. He spoke about assumed target audiences. About the problem of ‘Paid News’ that plagued every paper in the country. He spoke about the corruption of the Rajas and Kalmadis, and how the lesser reported incidents – the ones that could actually make or break a poor man’s life – were of equal importance.

He spoke about the exalted Liberalisation measures. Of how it might not be as haloed as it is made out to be.

After a point, it stopped being about me vs. him.

He spoke clearly – not once rushing his words, or looking away. He looked straight at me when he talked, and stressed on the words he wanted to stress. Not once did he treat me like some chutiya college interviewer, he never smiled at my questions, or dismissed them away as trivial.

Amidst the lights and the cameras, it somehow felt good. It felt good that he had taken me seriously. Felt good that I had his interest throughout the interview.

The next few questions flew by in an instant, and by the end of the interview, I felt foolish about wanting to spike him.

I thanked him for the interview, and we stood up. He was polite, shook hands, and spoke to the professor.

I stood there, genuinely pleased with myself.

 

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After he left, I walked into the studio room, and I saw everyone sitting silently, some with their hands on their heads. I asked them what happened.

They had forgotten to record the sound for the interview.

Not a word from the 30 minute interview had been captured.

I don’t remember if I felt shattered or angry. I just walked out.

I don’t normally tell people that I had once interviewed Sainath. When they ask me for proof, I have nothing to show.

It must still be lying around somewhere, that interview. If you walk into the Communication department at the University of Hyderabad, you might find it in the archives. A video where the people are talking furiously, nodding vigorously – but no sound escapes their mouth.

It’s true what they say. Truth is often stranger than fiction.