(Image via indiatoday.com)
A young girl working as a teacher in a madrasa is abducted by a few men, gang-raped and later forced to adopt their religion. Battered and bruised, she somehow escapes from captivity, contacts her family and registers a complaint with the police. A video clip where the girl narrates her ordeal is uploaded on Youtube, and within hours goes viral on social media.
A shocked nation takes to social media to express its horror and outrage. Within minutes, the incident climbs to the top of the Twitter trends. And within hours, blog posts spring up across the internet.
Throughout it all, the nation’s conscience keepers, stalwarts of the fourth estate, the leading lights of Indian journalism remain strangely subdued. In their anger, Indians turn on them.
‘Why aren’t you making this your primetime story?’, ‘Why aren’t you holding debates on this?’, ‘Is it because the perpetrators are from a particular community?’, ‘Why the different yardsticks for different communities?’, the questions rage.
For an entire day, the top honchos of the big media houses stay silent. Then they rise to the occasion.
Putting aside their TRP wars, the leading news anchors of the four top media-houses come together to host a massive debate that is telecast simultaneously on all news channels.
“Mr. Bhatia, let’s start with you,” begins an anchor who had shot to national prominence after her wartime coverage. “This is a major blow to your administration and to your policies of appeasement. Would you admit that your party stands exposed today?”
The spokesperson shakes his head. “Listen, these are all rumours. We must avoid bile and bigotry…”
“How are these rumours, Mr. Bhatia?” she interrupts. “The girl is on record talking about how she was abducted, man-handled and raped. She is on record talking about how she was forced to convert her religion and given a new name. The medical tests confirm the rape. Is this what goes on in your state under your rule?”
The spokesperson, completely unprepared for such direct questions, fumbles for words. The anchor then turns to another panelist, a religious leader.
“What do you have to say, Sir, about what happened in the madrasa?”
“The BJP has no right to blame anyone else about this. Only a few days back, one of its allies force-fed a Muslim while he was fasting. Why was it silent then?”
And then another anchor loses his cool.
“REALLY? ARE YOU REALLY COMPARING THE TWO INCIDENTS?”
For the next five minutes, the anchor unleashes his fury at his panelists. “WHAT JUSTIFIES THIS APPEASEMENT?….. WHY ARE YOU ASKING YOUR POLICE TO GO EASY ON CRIMES COMMITTED BY ONE COMMUNITY?…. YOU CALL THIS SECULARISM?”
When the tirade ends, another leading journalist, who had hitherto ceded airtime to his rivals from the other media houses, runs a hand through his salt and pepper hair and throws the spokesperson and the religious leader a disapproving look.
“I have been hearing your statements over the past half an hour. I truly fear you guys have lost your moral compasses. Wake up before it’s too late folks.”
The religious leader’s and the spokesperson’s jaws drop open in astonishment, and they bow their heads down in shame.
As the no-holds barred discussion continues in the newsroom, another crisis develops elsewhere. A few kilometers outside Delhi, a bright light comes hurtling from outer space towards earth. Villagers watch open-mouthed, as the light suddenly decelerates, reduces in intensity to reveal a saucer shaped flying object, and slowly descends in the middle of a clearing. The astonished villagers cautiously approach the ship, when suddenly a hatch flies open, and a dozen aliens wielding strange looking weapons leap out and start firing green beams of light all around them. Within seconds, every villager in the village is reduced to ashes.
The spaceship them shoots a beam of light upwards, upon which hundreds and thousands of similar looking spaceships descend on the earth to set in motion the first alien invasion in the history of mankind. When…
“Wait, wait, wait!” interrupted the director. “Are you kidding me? This is way too unreal! No one’s gonna believe it.”
The screenwriter looked up from his notepad and nervously shifted in his seat. The director continued.
“When you call me and tell me that you have an incisive script on the Indian sociopolitical dynamics, I am expecting something realistic, or at least something plausible. Not something totally arbitrary. People will reject this,” he said, gesturing at the writer’s sheets.
“Okay,” squeaked the screenwriter. “If you think that’s too much, I’ll remove the alien invasion part.”
“Uffo, not that!” the director barked impatiently. “The alien part is fine. I’m talking about the part where the Indian TV journalists hold a serious discussion on the incident in the madrasa. That’s pure fantasy. Chuck that bit.”
The writer nodded hastily and scribbled on his notepad.
The director stood up and looked at the screenwriter disapprovingly. “Writers these days! Completely dissociated from reality,” he muttered and walked away.