Broadcast
The story of an email
About the story: What would you do when you find yourself trapped in an ideological debate? What would you do when your ethics are questioned and your virtues of ‘liberalism’ and ‘inclusivity’ are attacked? What would you do when you don’t know when the healthy argument ends and personal attack begins?
Based on true events, Broadcast narrates a story of a student of a renowned university in Delhi who felt compelled to send a public message to his batchmates, rendering himself vulnerable to portray his true emotions when he felt his ethics were questioned. The story tries to challenge the idea of liberalism and ponders upon questions like who decides the morality? Taking hints from Patricia Miller’s book Demagoguery and Democracy, Broadcast tries to find the traces of the elements of demagoguery and democracy in real-life situations.
Yes! I feel my inner self telling me. I do not need any more validation and open my laptop for the sixth time and start writing my first broadcast e-mail addressing the entire student body of the university — a huge step for me.
How did I get here? I think and sigh, while mentally recalling the series of events that led to this point.
It was past midnight. Shadwal and I were huddled in the student’s commons to complete the latest module of the draconian “Introduction to Accounting”, an online course we passionately decided to take a few weeks back and now contemplating our decision — thanks to the extensive coursework, mounting assignments, and the ongoing placement process. Each subsequent semester at the JMU was getting harder, and we still have one more semester to go. We were hungry, sleep-deprived, and over-worked, yet we resolved not to leave the room until we finish the module test.
“Phew! I am done, Bhai! 18 Correct on 20. At least I can put this aside for a week!” Shadwal said, stretching his hands, almost hitting me. “Shhhh! I have two more questions left! disturb mat kar please,” I requested him not to disturb me albeit not looking up from the laptop screen.
Looking half amused and half exasperated, he took out his earphones, connected it to the laptop, and started grooving to some Bollywood song, whose faint sound I could still hear. Sighing loudly, I went back to complete my last two questions.
After five mins or so, I groaned loudly, before it turned into a yawn. I glanced at my watch; it was quarter past one. We were in the same room for the past six hours!
“Done, finally? How much did you score bey?”, he asked with a smirk.
“Umnn, not bad,” I said in a small voice.
“Oye saale, come off it,” Shadwal exclaimed while turning my laptop towards him.
“Bhenchod, you are actually disappointed by scoring 19 on 20?” he glared, and all I could do was shrug. It wasn’t the first time my friends accused me of trying to be an over-achiever.
We wrapped up our belongings and decided to take a walk in the fresh air before retiring to our dorms — an irony considering we were in Delhi. As we were climbing down the stairs, Shadwal said while checking his phone, “Guess what? Axis Bank ne bhi maar li meri.”
“Oh,” I said, not quite sure how to console him on his rejection from the Axis Bank placement process.
“Fuck, it’s my eighth rejection!” he grinned, not sounding upset at all.
“Bhai, I am not too far,” I said, feeling just one tiny twinge of regret, given I assumed I should have been placed long back in the first phase only. The Placement process had started back in October last year but for unknown reasons, I was unplaced still — it was March already.
Shadwal noticed the drop in my voice. “Chill, Bhai! We will get our dream-jobs! Aur nahi mila to paan thela khol lenge, haha” he consoled, even though I should be the one who should be comforting him. I smiled at his offer of opening a paan shop with me.
“Are you applying for the Graduate Impact Leadership Program? It’s a recent job profile they released this evening”, Shadwal asked me.
I indeed had read the job description but was not sure if I should apply or not. I kept mum.
“I know tu kya soch raha hai” said Shadwal. I wasn’t sure if he actually knew what I was thinking. Two days ago, when the information about the role came on the placement portal, I was mildly shocked, just by seeing the name. GILP’s parent organization, Nation with NaMo, is a right-wing, pan-India citizen engagement platform to build awareness and promote participation in the Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s New India Movement. While the vision was unique and the job description did talk about the grassroots level impact, the organization’s ideologies are quite different from the ideologies of the university we study in. JMU with its liberal space and left-wing politics often finds itself in a political standoff against the ruling government, especially during these volatile times. Since the time I joined the University, my political ideologies have changed a lot, mostly aligning with the majority of the JMUites, causing severe backlashes, especially by my parents. However, my stance for the placement process varies a great deal from my political ideologies. I was scared that by applying to the company, I would be marked as “Anti-JMU”. But the question that kept haunting me was, why do I need validation from my classmates for applying for an organization? Why do I need to prove my ideological leanings and let people question my ethics?
“Bhai, are you alright? You seem …. *yawns* zoned out!” Shadwal asked, unable to hide his tiredness. It was indeed a long day.
“Haan Bhai, just tired. Chal, let us go and sleep,” I said as we started moving towards our dorms.
I opened my dorm room to my sleeping roommate. I tiptoed my way across the table, dumped my bag and crashed on the bed, and immediately fell asleep.
Ding Dong Ding. Ding Dong Ding.
Seconds later, or so it seemed to me, my 7:00 AM alarm awakened me. Still tired from the previous night. I tried to sit upright but failed to do so — mentally slapping myself for sleeping so late.
“Just five minutes,” I thought and decided to sleep again.
The next time I opened my eyes, it was 9:16 AM already.
“FUUCKK!!” Cursing loudly, I hurried towards the washroom.
“Ugh. I am bound to miss breakfast aaj”, I groaned while crossing the mess and reached the class just in time. Thankfully Shadwal had saved a seat for me.
Half amused, he asked, “Chutiye, you forgot about the class, didn’t you?”
“No, I over-slept. One of these days, I simply want to disappear!”, I said, putting my heads down on the table.
Shadwal chuckled and went back to his phone. Neither of us was in themood to pay attention to the class.
“Did you see Suyash’s e-mail? About the GILP I told you last night?”, Shadwal asked reproachfully.
“No, I haven’t.”, I replied.
“Well, it’s pretty intense. Have a look.” Shadwal literally shoved his laptop on my face, much to my annoyance. I started reading the mail.
“Bhenchod!! It is intense”. I said shutting the laptop screen.
“So, what now? would you go for the pre-placement talk?”, I asked Shadwal tentatively, keeping an eye on the professor.
“What if our classmates boycott us for applying to this position?” Aakriti whispered from behind, who was supposedly eavesdropping our conversation.
Shadwal and I turned to her, and all three of us started laughing, a little too loudly, inviting people’s glare. We immediately fell silent and signaled to resume the conversation after the class.
I tried to pay attention to what the professor was saying, but my mind was stuck on Aakriti’s comment. What if our classmates actually reacted to the fact that I attended the placement process?….Will I be shunned?….Will I be termed Anti-JMU?….Do I really want to work in an organization whose ideologies may not align with mine?….But do the ideologies of any company match with mine?….Have I previously thought about it or only after coming here, I started thinking about these things?….Is this me or a student of JMU speaking?….. The commotion in the class broke my chain of thought. The class had ended.
“Let’s go to the mess?” Shadwal asked me while packing his bag.
The environment in the mess was different than the usual. I observed many people engaged in animated and agitated conversation.
“…. how could PlaceComm allow thi…. Shame on PlaceComm…. Will people protest agai….I think we should talk to the Head of the Placement Committee, this is unaccepta….Have you applied for the role or wha….” I overheard a few excerpts of the conversations. The invitation of a pro-BJP organization indeed touched upon a raw nerve with the JMU.
Shadwal and I took our plates and joined the table with Aakriti, Bhuvanesh, and Rupashree, and as expected, three of them were discussing the hot-topic of the day.
“Do you think people will protest on their arrival? I mean, can the University allow that? A protest on a prospective recruiter?” Rupashree asked.
“I have heard that some people will organize a silent protest during their placement talk. They will wear black or something to show dissent,” answered Bhuvanesh.
“Well, if that happens, it will be a big incident. Might gain media attention,” replied Shadwal.
“…Not the first time JMUites are on TV, though!”, I candidly added. The conversation slowly drifted from Nation with NaMo to evergreen left-wing vs. right-wing debate.
While everyone was busy with some other topic, I whispered to Shadwal, “Bhai listen! I read the job description again and the role and responsibilities seem lucrative. I am thinking of going to the Pre-Placement Talk, at least! I will decide later on whether I should sit or not. What do you say?”
“Hmm, honestly, I am not interested so much for the position re, so I think I will give it a pass. Also, don’t think much about other’s opinions. If you feel like attending, go ahead.”
My heart sank slightly, I thought at least Shadwal would accompany me. I hurriedly finished my lunch as I had to grab the laundry and put it in my room before I could go for the pre-placement talk. While coming back from the laundry room, I called up Aakriti to ask if at least she would be interested in going for the same; I didn’t have high hopes, though. She picked up after three rings.
Without wasting any time, I pleaded her to come with me, “Aakriti yaar, please please come for the GILP Pre-Placement Talk na! I don’t want to go alone. Chal na (Come no) please”.
“Arre, it’s canceled; we got the mail from the PlaceComm just now,” she replied.
“What? Wait, let me check.”, I said and cut the call.
The Pre-Placement Talk was indeed canceled by the Placement Committee, but such eleventh-hour cancellation was unheard of.
Maybe it happened for the best, at least I am not in dileemmmaaaa…*yawns* now, I thought to myself.
With nothing to do in the afternoon, I decided to go back to the room and sleep in the hope of making up for my incomplete sleep cycle.
Beep Beep.
My entire body jolted awake as soon as the loud Whatapp tune echoed in my ears.
Aaj ka din hi kharab hai!, I cursed loudly, dumping the frustration of forgetting to put my phone on silent earlier in the day. It was Shadwal. Argh
Judging by the way he wrote the text, I knew it was either too important or too dramatic. I sat upright on the bed and opened my laptop.
There was a full-fledged e-mail war in the past two hours that I had slept. The first mail was a response to Suyash’s previous mail. I read out from the screen
….Leave alone alignment of ideologies, some of the fellows were genuinely interested in the work profile and wished to learn there a lot. And some of us wanted jobs no matter what the ethics and core of the organization stood for. It had nothing to do with the values that the organization stood for. And even if it was, it’s one’s own personal prerogative right to opt for the same. None of the fellows were being forced to participate in its recruitment process…
Hmm, although it does make sense, is it the best possible step?…. Can someone compartmentalize their own ideologies and those of their work-place?…. Wouldn’t it converge someplace?, I was lost in my chain of thoughts.
I went through the email thread where each group was to justify their own viewpoint. A fair Debate, I thought — not expecting any less from JMUites who always voice their opinions strongly. Both sides of the arguments seemed equally strong — one expressing their prerogative right to dissent and others concerning the subsequent ramification.
While going through the mails, one big question kept haunting me — Where do we draw the line? And more importantly, who draws the line?
It seemed like an endless debate with no definitive conclusion. But aren’t most debates inconclusive? I thought while remembering the recent Conservative vs. Liberal discussion in one of my classes.
I was about to shut my laptop when I saw a notification. Hmm, the e-mail war isn’t over yet it seems! Curiosity got hold of me, and I started going through the mail. While the argument made sense, it was the last part of the mail, which I found highly provoking.
….You, who don’t care about the nature of the organization and “our” principles, are still free to apply to GILP and should follow this link if you wish to. I think your commitment and lack of interest in their organizational ethics would empower you in your application off-campus also….
I went through this particular part multiple times and every single time, I felt attacked even though I did not apply for the position. I remembered Aakriti’s comment earlier in the morning, “What if our classmates boycott us for applying to this position?”. I felt a shudder thinking about it. I was no longer thinking about the logic of the argument, but the consequences it has led to. This was downright humiliating as I felt that my ethics were blatantly questioned. This is not acceptable! What started as healthy debate, had quickly turned into a “us vs. them” battle. The same students who stood with each other during troubled times were now divided. People assumed an absolute binary between certainty and foolishly idealistic relativism, which led to the harsh language being hurled upon each other. Still thinking about the whole e-mail battle, I didn’t know when I fell asleep.
I take my breakfast from the mess counter and proceed towards the tables. “You can’t sit with us, you are a shame to JMU”, a classmate of mine points towards me. Someone pushes me from behind and shouts, “Abe jaa naa (Go away)”. A commotion starts and around 10–12 people surround me, all shouting at me. I keep my plate down and try to break the human circle. “Shame…Bhakt saale….A disgrace to JMU….” Everyone starts shouting. I somehow come out of it and start running outside. I keep on running and running…..
I wake up, panting. It is five in the morning. Fuck! That was scary, I thought. The nightmare is fresh in my memory and for some reason, it feels very real. Suddenly I feel very cold. I can’t deal with this fear…I need to say…something…anything….I have to do this….I tentatively reach towards my laptop, open it and star typing.
Wait, am I rushing into it?….Shouldn’t I just let it go?….But what if a similar incident happens in the future?….What exactly am I gonna write?….What am I really opposed to? I was again lost in my chain of thoughts; and decided to shut the laptop.
What about the repercussions? I think nervously while eyeing at my roommate, lying on the bed across the room, clearly in deep sleep.
What’s the worst that could happen, Swapnil? I ask myself and picture all sorts of exaggerated criticism I would face — in class, in mess, by friends, by professors.
Argh, come off it! Nothing of this sort will happen, I mentally reassure myself, putting aside the mental image of my classmates booing me in mess. I keep the laptop aside and try to calm myself down. The silence at five in the morning is truly helping. I take a few deep breaths and ask myself earnestly, Do I really need to do this?
Yes! I feel my inner self telling me. I do not need any more validation and open my laptop for the second time and start writing my first broadcast e-mail addressing the entire student body of the university — a huge step for me.
Dear Classmates,
I usually refrain from expressing my opinions on a public forum, but I felt I should on this. Please feel free to criticize any part of it.
When I first read the Job Description of Nation with NaMo, my first reaction was that fear. Even before thinking of applying for the role, I was afraid of how my classmates would react to my application? Will I be termed as an “anti-JMU”? Keeping these thoughts in mind, I decided to first appear for the Pre-Placement Talk, and then act accordingly.
It turns out that the PlaceComm canceled the PPT. When I asked around, I found out that there was a “possible intent of protest” during the PPT. Since we don’t have any written proof of the same, it’s nothing but all just in the air. So again, I am not sure what happened there.
When the debate started about it, I could see that our classmates using a similar language in the emails to which I was scared of. Individual sections of the emails reeked of “us vs. them,” and “some people not upholding the values of JMU” and so on. Despite not being among the students who applied for the organization, I felt attacked because I thought of giving it a chance.
I am not sure what ideologies we as the students of JMU stand for if we indulge in such kind of debate. Isn’t it supposed to be a safe place for every ideology? If that’s the case then why in practice that certain ideological leanings are always repressed? The least we can do is use appropriate language.
Lastly, every placement opportunity counts, and each opportunity lost costs a lot more than you can imagine. Ask someone who has not been placed yet.
Swapnil
I read the mail one last time and sighed. I can’t back out now.
I hit the send button
With twenty-four years of wisdom gained more through accidents than conventional means, add to it his love for painting and dancing, sprinkle the fact that he’s totally clueless about his future, finally, top it with his self-confession of being short-tempered yet positive, punctual and passionate, you get Swapnil Bagchi.
Swapnil is currently a fellow at Ashoka University’s flagship Young India Fellowship. He had completed his undergrad in Metallurgical Engineering from the National Institute of Technology Trichy and had worked in Axis Bank and ZS Associates.
