From polite letters to the rude comments

BENGALURU: “How would you feel if a drawing room conversation moved to the public square? Sometimes it’s welcome, sometimes it’s not.” That’s what a contributor to the Letters column in a newspaper had to say about online responses to newspaper content. Suddenly, news seemed to attract a surge of comments: some terse, some rude, some veering off the line of argument and others, meaningful but drawn-out.
“But why should a report about civic issues spark questions about political alignments? Do we have to tear the government apart when thieves break into a house?” he added.
Once, letters to the editor reflected serious social and political concerns. In their online avatar today, they mirror newer anxieties. All the verbal venting may have to do with spur-of-the-moment reaction to news, as much as jostling about to make oneself heard. Being heard and receiving “likes” are part of this psychological high. Never mind if we have strayed away from the point. Never mind if we are being blame-thirsty disruptors. At the other end, the reporter in question too, might be seeking validation for a piece of special coverage. Is it all, then, about the dopamine rush?
Letter-writers used to be a unique tribe, almost obsessively committed to their craft. There were archetypes: the senior citizen in tortoiseshell glasses who made his fortnightly trips to newspaper offices, clutching a bunch of letters he’d drafted about issues ranging from foreign policy to desilting of drains; the bank employee who posted one-page-long appeals to the transport corporation about effective management of bus routes; the animal rights activist who shed tears about cruelty to dogs and squirrels; anonymous souls who pointed out grammatical errors (a split infinitive here and a dangling modifier elsewhere) and so on. The mails too were diverse: offering insights, voicing complaints, suggesting corrections and clarifications, apart from occasionally diving into philosophy. Some preferred to remain anonymous, choosing initials or titles like Common Citizen, Aggrieved Bangalorean or Tormented Soul.
In the early years when newspapers were the sole commanding medium, leaders, scholars and intellectuals wrote long letters sharing their views on aspects of national importance. Among them were names like MK Gandhi, Jinnah, Jayaprakash Narayan, C Rajagopalachari and MC Chagla which then, led to more letters by others.
Content in the editor’s mailbox wasn’t only about what appeared in that newspaper. It could simply be about the harsh weather. A “perspiring bank assistant” in Bombay wrote to The Times of India in the summer of 1892 seeking a public holiday for Easter under the Negotiable Instruments Act, particularly so because the thermometer was “registering over 90 degrees in the shade.” In another instance on December 7, 1965, cricketer Vijay Merchant wrote – in what could now have made an ideal tweet – about how the English sports press unfairly alleged that Pataudi had to ask his mother’s permission before accepting the invitation to captain Sussex in the absence of the injured Ted Dexter. The story, he said, had appeared with the heading: “Pat asks Mum for permission”.
And then on to 1980s and 90s when dailies entertained some one-liners – pithy observations laced with pun and wit. One reader urged the government to speed up relief work in the flood-hit districts of “Wet Bengal”. Another resented what he thought was undue praise in a dance review to quip: “If he’s a dancer, I’m Rudolph Valentino.”
There were some mails that didn’t see printer’s ink. Among those was one that asked us to stop using the same photograph of Veerappan, the outlaw. We couldn’t tell him that we didn’t get a chance for a photo-shoot. Another letter described a spooky spot in Cubbon Park, “where a ghost haunts motorists”. Yet another contributor, chuffed to bits, congratulated us listing 25 points after his 25th letter got published.
Surely, there was an organic link as seen in the regular contributor’s familiarity with the dropboxes or an activist’s eagerness to pen down an additional mail about potholes on his way to our office. Regular engagement was the glue that bound readers to newspapers.
Yet, online platforms don’t suggest waning creativity or community concern. It’s only that the avenues are diverse. Today, there are different forums to complain about a slip-up in an electricity bill or a discourteous official. And there’s tonal variety too – views are angry or ponderous, sharp or long-winded and often witty. On a closer look, it’s the same meat, different gravy.
Come to think of it, the internet and social media aren’t barriers. They are a complementary space that can create a wellspring of public support. All the hashtags and @mentions might be rewarding, after all. Except every now and then, when the troll armies take charge.
— The writer Jayanth Kodkani is a senior journalist, editor, translator and author.