Would you say the child sees the world through the mother for the greater part of their lives?
The guy, whom I later learned was the editor of a particular supplement of India’s leading daily newspaper, asked the question unflinchingly. This is a leading question, with a yes or no answer. Maybe the guy at the other end agrees with you, but the idea still originated in the head of the journalist making this unethical in my books. Strike one.
But then I was in the office of the features section where Kollywood celebs and idhayam oil advertisers are given maximum head space. A man in front of me flips through photographs of a fat Kollywood heroine of yesteryear posing her pudgy children for the Mother’s Day special. These are the shady spaces where journalistic ethics takes a backspace, where you enter knowing full well what is on the other side of the door.
So when asked to cover a ‘Mother and Child’ exhibit, it goes without saying that the piece needs to be positive. My boss admits that she is twisting my arm a little, and since I know very little about art, I’m certainly not the right person for the job anyway. Strike two and three?
So I go and see the exhibit, and I’m not too impressed. The art I honestly can’t judge, and neither the sculpture. The photography I can try, but my impressions are not too flattering. The women in the photos are painfully aware of the photographer—they seem to be posing.
There is a middle aged woman playing a hand of cards. Behind her is a mirror which reflects her partner, a younger woman with an enigmatic smile trying to imitate Mona Lisa. Except that smile would be one that you or I would flash at a photographer.
So what must I do? Strike four.
By the way, I saw a guy designing an article about the movie ‘Sevval’. The hero, wearing checked boxers that necessarily show below his lungi, holding a spear in his hand is riding a giant cock. I’m not kidding you.
