When media planners thought storytelling had lost its edge for a generation that had ceased to imagine, Neelesh Misra proved the fault lay with the communicators, as he became a Pied Piper virtually every night, drawing varied listeners at prime time to his radio show Yaad Sheher . When media planners propounded that there is hardly any demand for a rural newspaper, Neelesh founded Gaon Connection , India’s only rural newspaper with distribution in 40 districts of Uttar Pradesh. Like the punchline of his show, Neelesh, who grew up in Nainital and Lucknow, carries a small town in his heart and likes to flaunt it.
In Delhi to shoot for Gaon Connection ’s television avatar on Doordarshan, Neelesh takes some time out from what he calls the “good chaos” he is in these days, for a bite at Café Uno in Shangri-La’s-Eros Hotel. “I blame the communicator. We convinced ourselves, ‘ Item number likh do. Kyonki baaki kuchh chalta kahan hai .’ I think young Indians have a split personality. They love ‘Munni’ and ‘Sheela’ but they also love ‘Yaad Sheher’ at prime time. These are not tantalising stories. These are serious relationship stories. We cater to the age group of 13 to 24. These are the same people we thought were dumb. Today 13 is the new 23,” says Neelesh who left journalism to become a lyricist in Bollywood with songs like Jaadu Hai Nasha Hai ( Jism ) and Mere Dil Ne Kaha Dhoond Lana Khushi ( Rog ) and then went on to write Ek Tha Tiger for Yash Raj before taking a break from the pen.
“A lyricist in Bollywood is no longer required to write a song. He is required to write a ringtone. 50 years later I don’t want to be ashamed of what I wrote. So I moved on,” says Neelesh asking for a fluffy omelette and masala tea on a humid afternoon with a cloud cover hanging over New Delhi’s skyline.
“I am a non-fussy eater. At the lunch table if I find something interesting to read — it could well be a newspaper report — then the food gets ignored.” It has been the case with him since his school days in Nainital. “Once I prepared pulao and put unpeeled potatoes in it. As my mother was teaching in Lucknow, sometimes I had to cook with my twin brother. Once we were starving. So he asked me to fetch bread from the market while he prepared the material for sandwiches. In those days bread used to cost Rs.2.50. But when I went out I saw a man selling chikara, a wooden violin kind of instrument. I bought it and came back home playing it with no realisation of mine and my brother’s hunger!”
He grew up singing in school and college to impress the girls, but he says the real confidence came from debating. “However, I discovered my talent for storytelling only when I decided to do the radio programme. My constant worry is to not sound like a voiceover artist. I want to narrate it like I am telling it to an acquaintance sitting on a park bench. Nothing is made up. Sometimes I am so moved by the story that I actually get a lump in the throat.”
Like storytelling, Nilesh says a huge cliché exists about rural India. Our mainstream media, he says, gives an impression that the farmer is either waiting for his next crop or is planning to counter floods. “Nothing seems to happen in between. Or there is caste violence and crime. But there is another side to the rural milieu. Lovers are sending SMSes, girls are wearing jeans, villagers are watching TV. People are eating chowmein and momos. But somehow we don’t get to see this transformation in mainstream media. CSDS did a study for five years and found mainstream papers devote two per cent space to rural India, and out of this two per cent, 36 per cent is devoted to crime and caste violence. We have unwittingly realised that we are filling a vacuum.”
According to him the weekly has tapped into a newer educated class, the rural white collar unemployed youth. “Most of them have studied up to intermediate. For them working under MGNREGA is beneath their dignity and in cities they don’t fulfil the service conditions of even a peon. They are the opinion leaders in villages but they are jobless. Ever since dish antennas and mobile phones reached villages, their aspirational levels swelled. These are the people who buy motorcycles and surf the internet. Companies have come up with a Rs.5 package for one-day internet connection. They use it to reach Facebook.”
Isn’t it like how multinationals once sold tea and then shampoo sachets to villagers? And the backlash could be felt when we got to hear that chowmein leads to bad character and mobile phones are responsible for molestation. “Changes are definitely afoot. There is a lot of social churning. Now since love affairs are becoming common, the moment a couple elopes, the girl’s family press rape charges against the boy.” Neelesh insists he won’t allow Gaon Connection to become a medium to take the corporate agenda to new, gullible consumers.
“Homogeneity is the last thing we want. We do not want to look at rural Indian from the prism of urban India. We are not going to decide whether bajre ki roti is cool for them or not.”
Financial independence plays a huge role in keeping the moorings strong.
“I don’t have to follow any lala’s diktats as I am the lala now. What I earn in Mumbai, I spend in Lucknow. We have just written a fictional series ‘Baawre’ for Life OK and I have completed a script for the Yash Raj banner,” says Neelesh, adding that he plans to scale up the circulation.
But when it comes to gulab jamuns, compromises happen. “I can’t resist now despite the fact that I have been told to avoid them. Television adds 10 kilos and since my physical activity is limited I have to cut down on rich food. Still I have found a way out. Whenever somebody’s work in Mandali (his group where he mentors young writers) gets commissioned, he is expected to feed two gulab jamuns to each of the members. But there are moles who send the message to my wife.” With no spy around, we realise it is time to give into the temptation!
