Remembering veteran journalist Karan Jeet Singh: You didn't have to go this way
I was out shopping for the festive season when I got the news of the murder of veteran journalist Karan Jeet Singh and his 92-year-old mother at their home in Mohali. It left me stunned, just as it had shook everyone else who had worked with him. I was a student at Panjab University's Mass Communications department when I joined the Indian Express' Chandigarh edition for an internship at the news desk. There walked in the handsome Sikh — KJ took off his denim jacket and hanged it over the head chair that the chief sub-editor occupied at the office's D-shaped table.
"Trainee?" he asked me. The voice was soft, yet impressive and firm. I nodded more awestruck than scared. "First, your name," he asked. I would call him "Sir". After that brief introduction, he smiled at me, trying to make me comfortable. Just then, a young sub-editor called out to "KJ", making me wonder how she could address a chief sub-editor by his name. He realised my discomfort; "I am KJ," he told me, with a broader smile. It took me years to call him "KJ", and I would avoid doing it as much I could.
From that day on, it was KJ with whom I would share and discuss almost every issue, be it concerning journalism or personal life. Today, I realise he was like this with every young colleague he mentored. He would polish my copies, again and again. "Queen of Hearts" was the headline he gave to my copy on Bollywood superstar Madhuri Dixit, who was then in town. Why? He said Diana Spencer once said she would rather be a Queen of Hearts. He never ever embarrassed me for my lack of knowledge. That is how I began to open up to him.
Once, a jealous colleague asked KJ why he treated my copies so well — was it so that my stories got a good space in all editions and could it be because the then Editor-in-Chief held me in high esteem? KJ shared this with me to make me understand how different feelings come into play at the workplace. Another time, he had advised me to buy zoologist-author Desmond Morris' Animal Watching — be it book recommendations or life notes, KJ made our lives rich in many ways.
I always wondered why he never married since he was always surrounded by women! I looked at him as my mentor not only in journalism but also in impressing women.When it came to work, KJ was never driven by any ideology — he would run my stories covering terrorist massacres prominently. Once, he was pulled up by an editor for using my story on women threatened by terrorists had stopped wearing jeans and skirts in Chandigarh. The editor felt we were promoting the terrorists' threats by publicising them while KJ and I felt the issue ought to be reported. He took the blame on himself, as always, telling the bosses that I was just a cub reporter and should not be held responsible.He loved to break away from the stereotyped, conservative layout set for the desk and do away with boring headlines. Often, seniors envious of him would issue warnings to KJ for deviating from the set style, but he wouldn't care.
He was extremely creative and artistic — even the way KJ cut lemon would surprise me!
I used to be a teetotaller and it was with KJ that I drank for the first time. When I required a recommendation for a Chevening scholarship, KJ gave me a wonderful one even when I was not working with him. He took me out for dinner when I was selected for the course. That was the year 2000. We met and spoke a few times thereafter.
Later, KJ and I reconnected on Facebook. His posts were sensible and his views moderate. Of course, he would speak for the minorities, the poor, the refugees, the migrants, et al. As much as he was truly secular, he was against any sort of violence and terrorism. Why has KJ been killed? We do not know yet. I went to his place only once, to express condolences when he lost his father years ago. Since then, KJ had been caring for his mother.On September 6, soon after the news of veteran journalist Gauri Lankesh's murder's broke out, KJ wrote on Facebook:
"Let her be, at least now..."
I am letting you be, KJ. You were no activist, you were a kind-hearted journalist biased to no ideology — Right or Left or Centre.
There was so much I wanted to share with KJ, to tell him that despite our somewhat contradicting views, I remain the innocent young man he first saw. I kept going back to your wisdom many a time in all these years — even when I couldn't speak to you, I knew what you would say. I will keep doing so. You did not deserve to go this way.
Also read: I was hit and left bleeding to die. Three months on, I'm afraid again