SIGHT & SOUND
Violence on violence
Amita Malik

OF the two bogeys of television, sex and violence, sex usually gets a higher rating. But of late, violence has got the upper hand. Last week, we recoiled in horror as well as anguish by the violence on telecast on TV.

Can one forget the wrinkled and sorrowful face of the grandmother of the Brazilian boy, who was shot five times — some said seven times, as he lay pinned down on the ground? He had committed no crime and the apology from the police and Tony Blair will not bring him back to his granny. Then there was the terrorist attack on a holiday resort in Egypt, killing innocent tourists. Once again, the finger of suspicion pointed at Pakistanis, no matter how vehemently President Pervez Musharraf denies any connection with bombings anywhere. Then last of all, came the terrible shots of lathi-wielding police running berserk in Haryana, hitting Honda motorcycle employees several times. There were spine-chilling photos of workers trying to give artificial respiration and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation as a boy’s head kept on lolling to one side as they jerked it back.

Horrifying sight: Cops wielding lathis in Gurgaon

One felt sick watching all this and wondering why in India we, that is the police in every part of India, think nothing of shooting to kill or wreaking vengeance with stout lathi blows when there are things like tear gas, rubber pellets and shooting in the leg to cripple, rather than kill. Is human life so cheap in India? Perhaps one has to watch TV, with all its visual horrors, to wake up to the reality of police methods in independent India. "How is the police in Haryana better than the one which was at Jalianwalla Bagh?" said an elderly lady to me. That is perhaps putting it too harshly, but that such a comparison should be made at all by someone who lived in British times shows the anguish felt by ordinary Indians over the way the police behaves in India.

Next, it was the turn of the Army in Kashmir, where it is unpopular enough and often provides tempting shots to Pakistani television. Again, it was a horrible mistake and the Army has apologised and there will be a high-level inquiry. Admittedly, the children had ventured out on forbidden territory outside a wedding venue. But children will be children and, again, the apology will not bring them back to their families. The protests, which we saw on TV, included a very long one by the children of the area, who were mourning their slain playmates and schoolmates. One cannot get worse than that. The world certainly seems doomed to a life of terror for the present. A terrifying thought.

It was good to see the instant and responsible reaction of the Indian electronic media to the earthquake in the Nicobar region which could have led to a second tsunami. Every channel without fail (except CNBC which seemed curiously disinterested) immediately got reactions from Kapil Sibal — he admitted sadly that India’s own tsunami warning system would not be in place until 2007. They also got reactions from both local officials and specialists in the Andamans, Vishakapatnam and Chennai, where tremors had been felt. Thailand had issued a tsunami warning and so had Japan, but while these were mentioned, Indians were reassured that they had to be alert but had nothing to fear. The calming influence of TV in contacting people in the regions concerned and in the whole country was evident. That is one of the remaining virtues of TV.

I can only make a brief reference to a touching programme in NDTV’s 24 Hours, which was put across with sensitivity and humour by Radhika Bordia. This was the story of Veerandra, of course known as Veeru, a village boy and now one of the most successful models, both nationally and internationally, who still comes back to his village to feed the buffaloes and tends to the crops with his proudly rustic family. He says he still feels more at home in his village than in Greece or Italy. Here’s a boy who is stunningly handsome but neither self-conscious nor arrogant. His mother, who missed her hookah on a brief visit to Mumbai was a joy, like her son.