A journey through letters

Letters to the Editor often turned into a slanging match

I have been reading newspapers since the mid-sixties, and one column I observed keenly was 'Letters to the Editor'. Inspired by some of the 'regulars,' I decided to write one and sent my first letter sometime in 1976. It wasn't published. I sent a copy of the same letter again, thinking that the first might not have been delivered by the postman. But that too did not see the light of day. I shot off an angry letter to the editor, demanding an explanation for which I received a prompt response from the editor: "On average, the newspaper office receives about 150 letters a day, out of which hardly 5–6 letters are published. If the rest did not see the light of day, it was mainly because of a lack of space." However, the next letter I sent, about pay parity among professionals, was published. There's been no looking back since!

The letters column across newspapers has seen a world of change over the decades. The first one is the length. Letters of 400+ words were common in the '70s, '80s, and '90s. Many of my letters belonged to this category. Now, letters published are not more than 100–150 words, leaving no room to address any issue comprehensively. Secondly, responses to letters—both for and against—were published. Often, the responses to some letters outnumbered the responses to even editorials, turning the column space into a battlefield! I recall myself being involved in a slanging match with a retired professor of law in the early '80s on the issue of 'establishing a casteless society'.

There was scope for humour in letters as well. In fact, the writing of humorous letters used to be my forte. In recent times, humour has not been much appreciated, perhaps because it is mistaken for frivolity.

Letters were not time-bound. A letter could be published within two days of its dispatch, sometimes five days, at times a week, or even two weeks. Once, a letter of mine was published three months after I had sent it. This was perhaps a record of sorts. Now, a letter sent by e-mail has to be published on the very next day; otherwise, it is as good as gone.

I would, however, like to record my confession here. After I joined government service at the beginning of 1980, I stopped writing in my name, and until 2005, I wrote under my late father's name, K Ramachandra Rao. I am sure that the regular English paper readers of those times would be familiar with this name. After my father passed away in 2005 and until my retirement in 2014, I used only a part of my name.

Since the time I commenced reading papers in the 1960s, till the present, I have been a witness to three generations of letter-writers, with I myself being a part of all three. And the journey has been most enjoyable.