That's Ravi Bhatia

Ravi Bhatia. I don’t know his exact age. All I remember of him is energy, a bit of arrogance and an attitude telling “fuck off” to anyone trying to plant a news item. He had this uncanny gift of sniffing out the guy with vested interest. His innings was certainly not over. Yet, he said good bye to everybody yesterday. Here also he showed his bossy, haughty attitude.

Ravi was my mentor. He gave me the break of my life in The Times Of India’s New Delhi edition. And thereafter let me, in his language, fuck anyone who made news. Who made news for the wrong reasons. He was the best crime reporter of India of his time. If the cops hated him they loved him too. And the PROs were shit scared of him. Press handouts were barred in the ‘Reporter’s Room’. Any reporter getting carried away under emotions would be asked to rewrite his or her copy. Any reporter acting like an “activist” would learn that his favorite two words were “Bloody gunk”. Anyone failing to reach the spot of incident before others would have preferred not to come back to office that day. That was Ravi.

I remember when I began my reporting career, Ravi was already a star. His arrival at a press conference or a crime spot would immediately generate murmurs .. “Ravi! Ravi Bhatia has come!”. The police officer in charge would immediately head for him. Few jealous colleagues would turn away their faces. And Ravi would keep shaking his head with ‘hmms’, ‘okays’, ‘achhas’ and ‘I sees’. And next day, his copy will invariably find a place on the front page with some exclusive dopes that none of us would have had any clue of. That was Ravi.

Was he too serious a guy? Oh no .. no way. He was so much fun too. He could beat anyone with his collections of jokes. His humor often didn’t make sense but people laughed and laughed. He would not appreciate any one not smoking, not checking what alcohol tasted like or not saying yes to good food. He always had an eye for the finest things of life. Smart dressing, very articulate, well mannered though only before his seniors or a newcomer, and a very sought after man among women. Just like the cops did, women hated him and loved him while he only loved them. But things changed once he really fell in love. Perhaps, first time he thought of family, so marriage was not far even as Ravi looked for the best tailor in town to stitch his wedding sherwani. That was Ravi.

He picked up young, aspiring reporters from streets and presented them before the top bosses of TOI. It didn’t matter if they were not smart copywriters as much it did if they were not smart news gatherers or lacked in developing informers. He was seen by many as a ‘tough’ guy. But he was the softest at heart among all my bosses, and certainly a very emotional person. That Ravi will never be ‘was’ in my mind.