Communication let loose

(Hindustan Times, 11 March 1983)

We spend a major part of our time in communication - talking, listening, reading, or writing. The communication technology has reached such an advanced stage that newspapers print the same paper simultaneously at their Paris and Hong Kong centers: or, one is able to watch in Delhi a direct telecast of the soccer match being played in Madrid. (Or, sitting in Delhi, we are able to talk to some far off, over the phone. But this is not always true, I confess).

The advancement, however, has not robbed communication of the lighter side. It continues to entertain us, as ever before, through a slight error here or a gap there. Let's have a look.

Mishearing, for example, is a common ailment. One hot afternoon a secretary was called in for dictation. The cool airconditioning in the office coupled with the heavy lunch that he had had that day, made him feel sleepy as he was taking dictation. However, he did manage to take notes, and the letters that he typed had sentences like this. "He announced a grant of Rs 10 000 with the powers wasted (vested) in him": "The expenses incurred on fried eggs (Friday) were met by the Organization": "We shall send you a keep (jeep) tonight": "On an average he deceived (received) Rs 5000 per month.

Printer's devil also plays a genial host to many a humorous situation. The other day it made the External Affairs Minister an Eternal Affairs Minister. The word 'immortal' became 'immoral' passing through several hands in the press. The considerate compositor conferred on the 'population' expert the status of a 'copulation' expert. We all know how the 'battle-scarred' General was reduced to a 'battle-scared' general and, on protest to the newspaper office, a correction was issued which made him a 'bottle-scarred' General. Most recently, a missing girl's father's request to the police 'to trace' his daughter got in as 'to trade' his daughter, and opened new vistas to the Police force.

Brevity is no doubt a quality in communication, but if it is overdone, it may have the reverse effect. A beginner in journalism sent a cable to his main office: "Can I send a piece on___?" The answer arrived promptly. "Send in 500 words." The reporter wrote back. "Can't be told in less than 1000 words." The Head Office cabled back: "Story of creation of world told in 500. Try it." He kept this 'dig' in mind, and next time he filed a death story thus: "Mr ____looked up the elevator shaft to see if the lift was on its way down. It was. Age 45."

Apart from being humorous, sometimes the gap in communication can also be disastrous. "Hang him not spare him" came a cable from the king, on the day of execution, accepting a clemency petition. The Jail Superintendent read it as "Hang him, not spare him." And promptly executed the convict. We have also heard stories in which the patients had swallowed the medicine the doctor had wanted them to apply externally. And nurses had injected drugs into the patients' veins when they were supposed to administer them orally. All because of a gap in communication.

These instances are okay for record. But last month, I became an affected party myself to one such communication-gap incident. We attended an 'express delivery' wedding arranged through one of those brokers whose writings on the wall decorate the capital. The boy, we were told, was one langda Lal Singh's son. As the bridegroom got down from the mare, he limped his way to the mandap. Seeing this, the girl's father got furious and stared at the broker who replied coolly: "Yes sir, I told you, the boy was langda, Lal Singh's son." To cut matters short, in the free-for-all scuffle that followed, we missed a delicious Punjabi dinner that we looked forward to.