By Karan Thapar

“I must ask you something”, Madhu Trehan once said to me sometime ago. “You always thank people in your column. Why do you do it?”

At the time I laughed it off and so did she. I’m not sure she was expecting a serious answer. Today, however, as I embark upon another note of thanks, I think it’s time to explain.

Every now and then I write to people in positions of power seeking favours on behalf of others. Sometimes it’s a phone connection, on occasion it could be a gas cylinder, once or twice its been a request to have the drains in a particular locality repaired and these days, with the admission season in ferment, it’s to procure a place in college for a deserving but disadvantaged student.

When I first started I would write with hesitation. After all, what gave me the right to make such demands? But emboldened by the fact that they weren’t for myself and encouraged by the initial response I developed courage. The letters became easier and they grew in number. It’s now got to the point where I even begin the odd missive with the words “I’m afraid it’s me again knocking on your door for more help!”

And, let me be honest, the people I approach have been kindness itself. They may not always be able to help but they have never – not even once – complained about my letters. In fact, more often than not, they’ve performed miracles.

So there are three reasons why I say thank you publicly. First there is the obvious one. It’s polite and, more over, it’s nice to say it. The other two, however, are less straightforward. Thank you gives me the strength to write a second time and ask another favour. In other words, gratitude allows me to be exploitative without the guilt of abusing someone’s kindness. But there’s also another guilt that thanks can alleviate. There are moments when I realise – or admit to myself – that I would not respond as readily or as generously as those to whom I write. Saying thank you helps me live with that.

In fact, that’s the real truth and I’m not really proud of it. When people ask me to help in areas where I can do something for them directly I often become tetchy. When I try to control it my irritation at myself creeps into my voice and sounds like impatience. Instead of being sympathetic I appear – unwittingly but, nonetheless, unmistakeably – unhelpful. Sadly, my response is different to that of the people I write to. That’s why I say thank you, loudly and publicly. They deserve it.

And it’s time to do it again. Last week I approached the principal of a popular Delhi college to take a lenient view of a young girl who desperately wanted admission but would not have got it without special consideration. Of course, there are many like her and there was no particular reason to choose her in preference to them. Despite that I tried. This time, however, I was uncertain of the chances.

Yet the lady in question could not have been nicer. Although busy, with a million demands on her time, she met the young aspirant on three occasions, spent hours explaining and encouraging and then found a way of helping without either being arbitrary or unjustifiably one-sided.

I know I ought not to identify her. After all, I don’t want to embarrass her nor place her in the invidious position of receiving a million letters from others in need. Yet to say thank you without taking her name seems incomplete and inadequate. So let me devise a compromise and hope and pray that it works :

If there were more people like you, Dr. Raghavan, ours would be a happier country and a better place to live.

A little company with a big difference

What happens in the world of television is rarely of interest to those outside it. Yet for those of us who spend our lives creeping and crawling within the fascination is ceaseless and enduring. This week, however, comes an event that will matter to the world beyond.

Greg Dyke is to be the new boss of the BBC. In April he will take over from John Birt.

‘So’, I hear you ask, ‘Why should that matter? Why should I have to know?’ Ah, that’s the point of what follows.

Greg is the third man at the top of the BBC who comes from a little but hugely influential television company called London Weekend. John was the first and Christopher Bland, the present chairman, is the second. Below them are a score of editors, producers and correspondents who were part of a trickle that became a flood. They all flowed from LWT to the BBC.

Today, though LWT only exists in name, having been absorbed by the bigger Granada group, its influence on British television is undoubted and incomparable. From its crucible have emerged some of the brightest names including that of Narendra Morar who commissions the strip of programmes you see at 10.00 each night. There are many others but the full list will not mean much to us in India.

Of course, the reach of LWT has spread beyond the BBC. Michael Grade, who used to run Channel Four and took it to the top, was John Birt’s predecessor at London Weekend. Tony Cohen at Channel 5 was Greg Dyke’s deputy at LWT. Peter Jay, the once famous economics editor of The Times, and Matthew Parris, its present and notorious parliamentary sketch writer, used to present LWT programmes. Melvyn Bragg started life on the South Bank Show, a LWT creation, and Trevor Philips, who might end up as Lord Mayor of London, was the star of several LWT series.

Yet it’s at the BBC that LWT has made its biggest mark. The Corporation’s three channels, and occasionally even its radio stations, have provided the opportunity and the freedom for these ‘expatriates’ to realise their best. So if you think the BBC is good – and it is; in fact, at its best it’s unbeatable – then a lot of the credit goes to LWT. And that is not a peculiar thing to say because many at the BBC would agree !

Only rarely does a small company produce such a big effect. In fact, there are very few other examples though the influence of IBM in the world of computers, Saatchi & Saatchi in advertising and Marks and Spencer in the retail trade must be some of them. Of course, none of these are small companies. In India, I suppose, The Times of India deserves recognition as the stable that nurtured a generation of newspaper editors and, one day, NDTV will be acknowledged as the spawning ground of the television expertise of the future.

And now a little plug for me

Let me come straight to the point. Bluntly, boldly but, mercifully, briefly. If you have nothing particular to do on tuesdays and wednesdays why not watch a little television? On tuesday try Star Plus and on wednesday switch to the BBC. On both nights I suggest you do so at 10.00 p.m. The Star Plus programme is called We the People and the BBC one is called HARDtalk INDIA or Face to Face, depending on what is being shown. I think you will like them – or, at least, I hope you will. But, anyway, do watch.