My lifelong experience of dealing with them and having read some of their so-called memoirs is enough to convince me that Babus write bad books. Pardon me, I am not referring to Sarat Babu, or Bankim Babu, or even Nirad Babu. My boredom emanates from the the Macaulayan babus who obtain their degrees from Presidency College, or some such prestigious institution and, by net-working their way into circles of influence climb into offices of authority. One such gentleman is Bhaskar Ghose, who led the destiny of Door-Darshan, India’s National TV-netrwork, under his command as the CEO of Prasar Bharati.

 Over-laden with his sense of self-importance and his hubris, he has set down—fairly accurately, I might add—an account of his days at Mandi House where he was responsible for running India’s official TV-network. He starts with his self-portrait as an idealist, swashbuckling hero, destined to change the face of Indian television culture, and launches into excusing himself for his failures because he was surrounded by ‘stupid, jealous and conniving politicians’ and inept colleagues. His ‘honest regret’? His ‘vision’ and his ‘talent’ have gone waste, consigned to the dustbin of history. Wuf wuf! Sob sob!! 

Ghose, if one is to believe his own legend, was living a happy and contented life in rain-soaked North Bengal, enthralled in reading his Chekhov and humming his favourite lyrics in Rabindra sangeet, ensconced in his tree-lined bungalow where from he was plucked one day by the then PM Rajiv Gandhi and asked to lead the destiny of Door-Darshan, India’s largest, national TV-network. From thereon, it appears, Inspector Jacques Clouseau had arrived on the scene.

Throughout his narrative this Bengali Babu can be seen sneering at everybody else’s successes and claims credit for everything that went right. Ramanand Sagar’s Ramayan and B.R.Chopra’s Mahabharat get washed away in his flood of oversights. The fact that those were the magic years in the history of DD. Never mind that: He was the unappreciated genius on the throne and lesser-beings failed to worship him. 

Every minister he worked with comes in for a dressing down: Ajit Panja was an incorrigible womanizer (‘kept asking for phone numbers of pretty newscasters); K.P.Singh deo was totally insane; HKL Bhagat was corrupt in as much as he wanted his son to get a contract for supplying Bollywood movies to DD; P.A.Sangma is a liar of the first order. To sum up the total atmosphere of Ghose-era at Mandi House, every politician stepping on the stage was wicked, insane or incorrigibly horny. 

His fellow bureaucrats also get a raw deal at his hands: Worst jibes are heaped on K.S.Sarma, the present CEO of Prasar Bharati. If we are to believe Bhaskar Ghose, it was Sarma who killed his dream of launching DD-3 and an international channel of DD. In all, if one is to believe the ranting of a retired Ghose Moshay, his attempt at writing a new and glorious chapter in the history of Indian broadcasting was put paid by wicked politicians, conniving colleagues, and ‘witless visionaries’ standing by to step into his shoes. 

And finally the story ends with glory heaped on himself and his other half, Rajnikant Basu. Both had started aligning themselves with Rupert Murdch’s Star-corp. while still in office. Soon after Ghose’s retirement, Basu Babu abandoned the ship, being chased by CBI investigators. And DD is still reeling under the impact of Ghose-Basu mismanagement of national network’s assets and in-built strengths. This a narrative of lackluster performance and wasted time, only laced with occasional bits of wry humour.