The Pen as My Sword Memoirs of a Journalist
Contents: Foreword. Introduction. Preface. 1. The curtain rises. 2. My career begins. 3. Of editors and editing. 4. Gandhiji takes over. 5. Trained in the times. 6. The Swarajist galaxy. 7. Bombs and scoops. 8. Swinging lathis, broken heads. 9. Of two giants. 10. All work and no pay. 11. I edit the herald. 12. Eventful years. 13. The war years. 14. Quit India. 15. Life in Jail. 16. With Gandhiji. 17. The Herald is reborn. 18. India gains freedom. 19. Bihar interlude. 20. Visit to America. 21. A difficult period. 22. Two bullocks and a yoke. 23. Journalists unite. 24. Parliamentary work. 25. Retrospect and reflection. Index.
These are the reminiscences of journalist who as a student (1910) was required to be loyal to the throne of his imperial majesty, King Edward VII, Rex Imperator, ruler over lands on which the sun never set, but who turned out to be an empire-destroyer using his pen as a sword.
The memoirs cover four momentous decades, beginning with the concept of Swaraj of the Lokmanya and Mahatma Gandhi to planning and Panchasheel of Jawaharlal Nehru. The book, therefore is valuable not only to those who aspire to enter the street of ink but also to those interested in the evolution of contemporary Indian thought.
The author discusses candidly some basic aspects relating to the growth of healthy journalism in India. What does the freedom of the press mean? He asks freedom for the proprietor or freedom of expression in public interest? The proprietor is in the business of newspaper production to make a handsome profit, he is averse to taking risks and this robs journalism of its main purpose.
Of the press of today, he thinks: outside the field of politics, it had done creditable work for the revival of art, the progress of science, social reform, literary renaissance and for the improvement of the stage and the screen.
The veteran journalist says : The news editor of old where one existed did not know even a quarter of what the present-day average sub-editor knows. And what was the mental range of those days? Narrow, parochial provincial national at best. (jacket)
