Chotta Bacha

Jab Main Chota Bacha Tha

Life is not a bed of roses, nor is everybody born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Life is a struggle by itself and there are many people who have fought against all odds and have reached the pinnacle of success in life facing all odds and overcoming all obstacles, having firm belief in themselves. Sooner or later a man who wins is the man who thinks he can. Jab Mein Chotta Baccha Tha is a series of articles sent in by those people who have carved a niche for themselves in society and are certainly a source of abundant inspiration to all those who think that success could be reached through shortcut. It is a fact that shortcuts do not lead to success. Read On This And Many More Articles .

In This Series. We bring to you memories of childhood and journey to the post of editor of Times Of India Mr.H.S.Balram in his own words.

* To begin with, a brief resume: Born on Aug 15, 1952 to Rajput-Hindu parents with ancestoral settlement in Bangalore. Have four brothers and two sisters. Mother tongue: Hindi. Other languages known: English, Kannada and Tamil. Qualification : First class Graduate in Science from Bangalore University. Profession: Journalism; at present Editor of the Bangalore edition of Times of India. Family: Wife and a daughter.

* Childhood memories are still fresh in my mind. Seven children -- five brothers in between two sisters.
I, the eldest of the brothers with a twin as a bonus. All of us were good in studies. We played a lot (there was no TV then), fought a lot but patched up soon, stood together in times of crisis, and were scared of strict but affectionate maternal grandfather in whose house my parents stayed. In short we had lots of fun.

* As I entered the teens, I begin to realise the trauma that my parents were going through in bringing up so many children. My father was the only earning member. My mother had a tough time making both ends meet. But they ensured that our education was not affected. My grandfather even mortgaged his pension book to raise funds. I passed out higher secondary with high percentage, but took admission in a government-run college as the fee there was low. I was actually interested in entering the prestigious St. Joseph College. It remained a dream. We stayed in a small house -- grandparents, parents and seven children. There was no water connection. I and my my twin brother took turns alongwith grandfather to fetch water from a public tap on thr roadside. My father, who worked for the Survey of India, was most often on tour. We used to carry big brass vessels full of water on our shouders. To avoid being seen by our friends and also escape the rush at the tap, we used to get up at four in the morning. After fetching at least 25 vessels of water, we used to sit and study till day break. I and my twin brother used to double ride to college on a bicycle. We completed B.Sc with a good percentage in 1971. We were interested in pursuing post graduation studies, but the economic condition at home prevented us. We thought we should take up jobs and help our younger siblings to persue their studies. For six months, we kept applying and attended interviews without any success. It was my most depressing period of my life.

* One fine day, I received a letter from one my uncles in Delhi, asking me whether I was interested in taking up journalism. He knew that I was good in English and had written articles in school and college magazines. I said `yes', and armed with the articles left immediately for Delhi by train. I had till then never gone on such a long journey. It was tedious. I joined `The Motherland, a right-wing daily in Delhi, as a trainee journalist. And my stipend was, believe it or not, just Rs 150 per month. I had no option but to stay in my uncle's house for survival in a huge city like Delhi. At one point, I felt homesick. I missed everyone back home. As I wasn't earning much, I thought of going back to Bangalore and try my luck for a better-paying job. Better sense prevailed on me and I dropped the idea.

* I worked hard day and night, learnt from others and my own mistakes and won the admiration of my seniors at the office. After a year I was confirmed as a junior copy editor for Rs 300 per month. I moved out of my uncle's house and started staying independently. In 1973, I received an offer from `Patriot', a left-wing daily. I switched over as the salary was Rs 100 more. I grew in the profession, learned the tricks of the trade and was prepared to meet bigger challenges. I was keen on getting into a large newspaper.

* In March 1975, I joined the Indian Express in Delhi on a salary of Rs 800 per month, double to what I was getting in Patriot. My joy knew no bounds. At that time, Express was at its peak. I rose from a copy editor to chief copy editor to news editor. I cannot forget the days of emergency when the paper took on the government. My editors were lunimaries like Mulgaokar, Narasimhan, Suman Dube and Arun Shourie. In February 1981, I renounced my bachelorhood and married a girl in Delhi. Coincidentally, she too came from a big family -- six sisters and two brothers. We didn't want to go through the trauma that our parents suffered. So, we decided to go in for just one child, be it a boy or a girl. A daughter was born to us on December 25, 1982. She brought immense joy to both of us. In Bangalore, my twin brother joined a chemicals firm first and then the police force. He took charge of the family. I took the responsibilty of paying the fee of one my brothers who was doing his engineering. Another brother did his post graduation, joined me in Delhi and went on to become an archivist. He is now with the Tatas at Jamshedpur.

* In November 1991, I was asked to take over as the Resident Editor of the Bangalore edition of Indian Express. I was not interested. I was quite happy in Delhi. Life was smooth. I had purchased a flat on instalments and moved into it. My daughter was studying in a prestigious school. Pressure mounted. They wanted me to ressurect a stagnant paper. A big challenge, no doubt. Moreover, heading an edition is a one-in-life-time opportunity. I thought I might regret it later. So, I accepted and moved over to Bangalore -- lock, stock and barrel. The return of the native after 20 long years.

* Twenty years later(Bees saal baad). I changed the face of the Express in Bangalore. I was recognised as a professional, a team man and a good motivator. The paper's circulation started growing. When all was well, the paper split into North and South editions. The southern management feared that as I was from Delhi, my heart was with the the northern management. So they cooly transfered me to Bombay as Executive Editor of the Sterline Group of magazines, that was under the southern management. It was as good as asking me to go. I quit in disgust in 1995. I didn't wan't to be caught in the crossfire between the two groups.

* The Times of India grabbed me immediately and asked me to help in relaunching its Bangalore edition. I accepted. I formed and motivated a team of young journalists into producing a reader friendly national paper with a local flavour. It clicked. The paper's circulation started growing from just 30,000 when I joined. The management unleashed aggressive marketing and introduced colour, the first paper to do so in Bangalore. Others silently followed suit. We kept growing. It soon became the primary paper in most homes. In 1999, the Audit Bureau of Circulation declared the Times of India as the number one daily in Karnataka. A dream come true for me and my team. My weekly column `To the Point' that appears every Sunday is widely read.

* Reaching the top is tough, but staying there is tougher. So I keep telling my collegues to shun two things: complacency and arrogance. They seem to be adhering to my advice. The papers continues to grow. I have learnt one thing through my experiences. There is no short cut to success. Hard work always pays. And never lose heart. Seeing me, my daughter has taken up mass communications as her subject in college. I wish her all the best. I also wish all those who read this piece my mine all the best. -- H.S.Balram, Editor, Times of India Bangalore .