Tarun J Tejpal
Invoking the past I could summon up a litany of complaint.
Instead let me write up a roster of thanks.
It's nothing short of a miracle that you are reading this. Like all miracles
it arises from part endeavour, part providence, and part the alchemy of
energies one only marginally controls. As a good agnostic I cannot thank
that which I do not know. But there is a religion to which I subscribe,
of friendship. Today I know it makes miracles possible. Today I know it
is a miracle.
Let me then begin by thanking Satya Sheel, for being there with a hug,
encouragement and resource each time I knocked.
Ram Jethmalani-rare celebrity whose reality is greater than his image-for
adopting us as a cause; and freely giving of his house, heart, wallet,
and formidable legal arsenal.
Shanti Bhushan and Prashant Bhushan-an inspirational father-son duo-for
their steadfast commitment to the battles of democracy and the pursuit
of probity in public life.
Kapil Sibal for deploying his brilliance, affluence, and eloquence, in
our defence, repeatedly.
Kavin Gulati who was calm and lucid in defence of the truth, in the face
of batteries of wheedling lawyers.
Arundhati Roy and Pradip Krishen for being there-in different ways-each
time I called.
Uma Shankar, whose brilliant testimony stalled an onslaught.
Vikram Lal, Anu Agha, Sunil Kanoria, and Prafull Shah for stepping across
the line of fear, behind which their community quavers.
Niranjan Tolia for giving us a roof-actually two-and many wild schemes.
Anoop Sharma, who came to buy and stayed to befriend.
Priyanka and Raj, sweet birds of youth-who make new worlds possible.
Vir Sanghvi, alone among editors who let neither pressure nor pettiness
cloud his judgement.
Mahesh Bhatt, who rose before daybreak to take flights to crusade.
Vidia and Nadira Naipaul, a transnational umbrella of warm reassurance.
Rajiv, Ranjan, Porus, Prabha, fellow idealists from Erewhon, for passionately
sharing the dream.
Alyque Padamsee for his brainwave of founder subscribers.
Vikram Nair, who overcame his demons to become the first.
Ranjan Kapur and Piyush Pandey, who believed in the vision.
Aniruddha Bahal, brave warrior, and comrade-in-arms.
Shankar and Devina, bearers of a cross they did not choose.
Rani and Tony Jethmalani, for extending a hand, continually.
Madhu Kishwar, Rajeev
Dhawan, Manish Tewari, Mark Tully, Kuldip Nayar, Swami Agnivesh, Nari
Hira, Vinod Dua, Mala and Tejbir, Sunil Khilnani, R.K. Mishra,
V.K. Madhvankutty, Siddharth Luthra, Satya Narayan, Medhanshu, Shabnam
Hashmi, Malvika Sangghvi, Javed Jaaffrey, Amitabh Roy, Amrit Tejpal, Abhijit
Mukherjee, Anil Sharma, Kapil Pareenja, Ashok Sharma, Bina Ramani, Meet
Malhotra, Indranil, Nikhil and Charu-who pitched in at different times
to help us wage our battles.
Guruji and Babaji,
invokers of the benign unknown.
My mother, Parveen,
who prayed, and kept faith in righteousness; and my father, Inderjit,
believer in the grand act, whose endorsement of the glorious battle never
Neena and Shoma, rarest
of the rare, the two engines on which Tehelka moves; whose professional
excellence, loyalty and integrity are beyond any price; without whom Tehelka
would have never risen from its ashes.Neena, virtuoso organizer, tireless
worker, the artist of the impossible, my oldest friend.
Shoma, keeper of the conscience, wordmeister, warrior of improbable dreams,
Brij and Prawal, peerless
soldiers on whose resolute backs battles are fought and won.
Sudhir Varma, chartered accountant and confidant, ever at hand to square
Arun Nair who died; Arun Bhanot who tried; Samuel Mathew who left; and
Shashikumar, Arnab and Badal who returned.
Yamini who crusaded with passion, her salient trait.
Minty, who doubted the dream but trusted in me.
Roma, serene sketcher of lines and lovely intuiter of designs.
Our friends and family
who see us through everything.
Sanjoy and Puneeta, exemplars of friendship, blessed of the life force,
our fellow journeymen.
The intimates: Gunjun and Gayan, my in-laws Adarsh and KK Batra, Smita,
Shobha and Govind, Rajdeep and Sagarika, Padma, Aditya, Bilu, Mike and
Nicku, Amit and Peali, Patrick and Ab, Bindu, Gayatri, Niharika, Annie
and Rahul, Manika, Vamby, Sharupa, Bish, Annu, Bani and Nikki.
The thousands who
wrote up cheques to advance subscribe to a will o' the wisp publication
in an unprecedented act of collective media idealism.
And finally Geetan, Tiya and Cara, the coordinates of my life-repose,
inspiration, and the reason for most things.