Remembering newsroom legends Ronald Vivian Smith, Amitava Ranjan Sinha Roy

For many of us who learnt copy-editing at The Statesman, Ronald Vivian Smith and Amitava Ranjan Sinha Roy were nothing short of legendary. Smith passed away on 29 April, 2020, and just over a year later, we lost Sinha Roy on 2 May, 2021. For us rookies the former was always “Mr Smith,” and the latter, “Sinha Roy”. In fact, for a long time I never even knew what his initials stood for, as no one called him Amitava. Both men loved the English language and precise writing, the backbone of newspaper copy as opposed to “literature,” with a rare passion. Adjectives — ubiquitous these days — were a no-no in their lexicon as a newspaper’s dissemination of news was meant to be impartial and factual, sans slant or exaggeration. Sentences had to be short and succinct, each one with a fact embedded in it. No waffling, no extra punctuation, especially commas, no metaphors (mixed or otherwise), no jargon, and no spelling mistakes. Every point had to be cross-checked, without the help of a search engine or spell-checker. And woe betide any trainee sub-editor whose final copy did not answer the five Ws — who, what, when, where and why. Sinha Roy once made me re-edit a single news story 16 times. Back then all stories were either typed out or printouts torn from the newswire machines constantly clattering in the corner. By the end of it, the copy was in thin strips — to reconfigure paragraphs — and the printed lines were a near-illegible mass of blue ink marks. But Sinha Roy’s wide, gap-toothed smile of approval made it all worthwhile. I felt on top of the world. I was not sure, though, whether the approval was for my editing only or also for my perseverance. An intern put through such a wringer today would probably consider it harassment and complain to the HR department. But the other trainees and I took it as proof that he was interested enough in our skills to hone them. Eventually, after over a year of rigorous training, we “probationers” graduated to becoming their colleagues, a rare honour as my batchmates were all women — the first of “our kind” to become full-fledged members of The Statesman desk, over 30 years ago. And Sinha Roy celebrated by taking us 22-23- year-olds to the Press Club for a drink. I had Pepsi as Coke only re-entered India later. It was an amazing shift for a man who emphatically and undiplomatically resisted the entry of women into the hallowed “boys club” of The Statesman news desk, although the paper had a long history of firebrand female reporters. But to Sinha Roy’s eternal credit, once we were admitted to the club — especially the night shift, which ended at 2 am after the paper was “put to bed” — he became a mentor, not just a tormentor. Our interaction with Smith was a bit more distant as he sat in the separate room for the three news editors. We were called in either to be criticised or praised for our editing work. Sub-editors, he told us, had a greater responsibility in the newsrooms of English language publications in India. “The reporters’ job is to get the news and file; your job is to turn it to copy that everyone can understand!” By and by he promoted us to conversations about his other loves — the history of Delhi, ghost stories and poetry. Although I left The Statesman after only two years, we remained in touch till he passed away. Smith would always call and wish me on my birthday. The last time we met was in 2016, when this photo was taken. The link with Sinha Roy was deeper. Not only were we both Librans — our birthdays were two days apart — we also got married on the same day and same year. That day, the desk had to make do with a skeletal staff. Our children were born within a fortnight of each other too. He, and my other mentor at The Statesman, Subhendu Mukherjee, kept in touch with me even after we went our separate ways career-wise. Then we all converged professionally again at the Times group: Sinha Roy and I at The Economic Times and Subhendu at The Times of India. But Sinha Roy was a much mellowed man by the time he landed in the ET. He didn’t eat rookies for breakfast anymore; he was almost grandfatherly in comparison to what he was when he trained us. We spent long hours chatting not only about the falling standards of editing (a favourite pastime for my generation these days) but also the stock market — in which he always had a keen interest — and politics. His generous girth betrayed his first love, of course: food. He would routinely finish whatever food was left on the trays during night shift at The Statesman and then still down a half-dozen parathas at 3 am at the Moolchand crossing on the way home. Food forays around the city and ordering snacks for desk colleagues became a habit in his later years. But eventually that became his nemesis too. Diabetes and a kidney transplant put paid to his eating excesses. In his last years, despite his failing health and increasing immobility, he not only kept up with his editing and news management but also got down to writing a book on editing and news writing. The book remains unfinished, but I hope someone will step up and complete it as Sinha Roy’s gift to the profession he loved so much. He also kept in touch with an astoundingly large and diverse circle of friends and former colleagues via regular phone calls and text messages. The 2020 lockdown was catastrophic for him as his physiotherapy sessions were suspended, leading to a deterioration in his blood circulation and flexibility. He became bedridden. Then one day in March 2021, he landed up in the ICU. He stayed there for a month without much improvement and eventually his wife Nandita and daughter Gitanjali brought him home. On 2 May, I got that late-night call from Nandita, with a request to tell Subhendu. I called him immediately and both of us could not hold back our tears. Neither would have wanted unnecessary adjectives and emotions in any copy about them. So, this epistle is a tribute to their legacy. Adieu, Mr Smith and Sinha Roy. You both were one-of-a-kind. Pranam. Amitava Sinha Roy was Editor (Content Audit & Monitoring) at Network18, the publisher of Firstpost, in his final assignment.  The author is a freelance writer