Focus

True ‘New Media’

Akul Tripathi discovers a new media where the rural women folk are making films about their own lives and the issues affecting them, through the latest swanky cameras and even editing them on the latest version of technology.

Two discreet, unambiguous and completely inconspicuous words are the subtly fonted heading for a humongous achievement; on the activities website page of the Deccan Development Society (DDS) – Women’s Media. These should not sound particularly out of place, unless you are amongst those who see media as the domain of the males. If you do fall into that category, please switch on any General Entertainment Channel (GEC) at any time of the day or night and this gross misconception will vanish instantly.
This media venture is the latest in a string of rural development ventures carried out by the DDS over the last twenty years. Aiding in the formation of autonomous communities is at the heart of the DDS agenda in the Medak district of Andhra Pradesh. The women Sanghams (voluntary village level associations of the women) of about 75 villages have and continue to work towards autonomy in food production, seeds, natural resources and now – the media.
These versatile women from the extremely poor district of Machnur are running their own community radio – Sangham Radio - the first all women’s radio in Asia. A few of these women who are footnotes (if at all) in the illiteracy number of the country are making movies about their lives and issues affecting them, complete with swanky DV camera’s and editing them on the latest version of Final Cut Pro.
I travelled with a group of media students to Pastapur village to meet P. V. Satheesh, secretary of the DDS. Here I was introduced to an infant parallel media, driven by a thought process which working in the mainstream media would never have allowed me the mind-space to think about. A kind of underground media, which exists for underprivileged farmers and the non-literate (illiterate is too strong and perhaps wrong a word) in Andhra, India and the world over - people who find themselves lost and lonely, plagued by marginalisation, exploitation and apathy – and through this visual medium, which transcends barriers of language, helps them meet and learn from each other.
In this notoriously poor rural India, a group of lower caste women are affecting change and upgrading their standard of living. It seems unimaginable that women farmers from an unknown village of the country from where no head of the state has ever emerged will be walking around their farms carrying sophisticated audio-visual equipments while their husbands happily carry the heavier stuff.
Set-up under a tree, on stand-by mode was a 42” LCD TV, connected to a DVD player, through extension cables. Laid out in front were mattresses for us to sit on and a girl, barely eight years old, was hopping around on the periphery clicking our photographs on a 7 mega-pixel Cannon camera with red-eye reduction. The sound of her anklets singing with her every move, above the constant hiss of the cicadas before she was lovingly asked to stay still, is a memory set in stone.
A few steps away is a fully furnished edit suite with the largest available size of Apple Macintosh monitor and a mesh of cables connecting external hard-disks and other electronic wizcraft contently beeping and purring in the low light with gleaming red and green LED’s keeping watch on our each movement. Staring, equally curiously, is the resident editor – a dalit guy with little formal education - operating the erstwhile forbidden apple casually yet surely. Lined up on the wall are close to a dozen PD150 and PD170 cameras with a host of accessories and tripods and Narsamma (a farmer, who has taken movies made by her to places as diverse as South America and Europe), the most prolific of the women we met there, lovingly caressing a smudge of one viewfinder.
In this setting, it seems very natural to question some notions which are otherwise taken as ‘given’ by our preconditioned urban brains. Prime amongst them is the notion of conventional established systems of education which are a precondition to fall in the ‘literate’ bracket. Is it not possible that farmers, with knowledge of soil, weather and crop variations amidst other unwritten erudition and without the know-how of presenting them in the ‘accepted’ modern language and devices (journals, internet etc.) are literate about matters in ways that we will always stay illiterate? Is literacy truly then the only precursor for development and progress, or should it be restricted to the meaning of ‘having the ability to read and write’?
Another glaring insight from this close encounter of the unknown kind is the now very apparent issue of media dependency of the consumers on the producer of media software. Somewhere down the line of this hierarchical communication, its relevance is completely lost. One might argue endlessly about the relevance of media and the magic bullet theory, but perhaps media is a bullet nonetheless, in its direction from the barrel to the target. This development in the villages is noteworthy in its hopes of raising a dialogue.
For me, this emerging media is a rough equivalent of YouTube for those left behind in the virtual race on the silicon autobahn. As my text-book knowledge kicks in, I recall the fiery debate on the necessity for higher localisation in the era of increased globalisation and the formation of a ‘glocalised’ world. In this emerging world, it is women like Narsamma who may compete neck-to-neck with any in the army of graduates being let out into the media battlefield at the end of every academic year.
The media department of the Sangham today has a corpus of Rs. 50 lakhs, earned by making movies for DDS and other NGOs. Unaffected by this sudden inflow of money, these women, still rooted to the ideals which led to this fat bank balance are committed to not being involved with the mainstream, nor make wedding videos and under no circumstance work for ventures which are against their principles. Even if this involves making a movie for the government promoting agricultural practices which are detrimental in the long run.
An incident narrated by the locals encompasses the change this little venture has created in the lives of the women in Pastapur and neighbourhood. Imagine a typical Indian village set-up with a rich landlord and the other levels of pecking order down to the most marginalised caste. Now picture a woman of this caste moving around confidently with a camera and a tripod, and being ushered into the haveli of the landlord and shown around the place and then escorted to the family’s prayer room and requested to shoot the celebration of a particular event and being granted every change in the angles and lighting that her tripod demands. One step forward – on a curt order, the television blaring popular music, being watched by the heir apparent of the family, is promptly switched off. This is the stuff that movies are made of - and dreams. The only difference is that neither is this woman Alice, nor is this reel life. This is history being re-written and the writing is clear on the wall.
Then again, this is one stray incident, where a group of committed people, have encouraged change and contributed to empowerment amongst the women of a downtrodden society. And though the idea appeals to the idealistic romantic side of me, the pragmatic cynical self wonders whether by the time a considerable number of people hop onto this bandwagon, will it be too little, far too late?
Just before departing, it was a question begging to be asked to Mr. Satheesh – “What next?” A long look into space with a dreamy glaze in the eyes and two unforgettable words – “People’s Satellite”. The world, I have read someplace, belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. I hope then, in the near future, to see a speck race past the night sky, bringing life to countless little TV sets in what are today the dark spots in the space photographs of the planet at night.

The writer is a media professional and freelance writer.

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