In the interest of principles

I cited 'personal reasons' for turning down a good offer to do freelance work for a reputed TV production house.

It was a good deal, in fact, a tailor-made one for a person who needs some cash fast and doing what she's been doing all along: report stuff. But there was a catch, a BIG one, like there always is with every new attractive proposition: I would have to counsel people and ensure I tied them up securely in their chairs to prevent them from escaping from the TV studios before the cameras began to roll.

The brief was simple: get sensational, shocking stories and get both parties to the studio to talk about it. Easy enough to accomplish if your brains are wired that way. Since my brain is not wired to anything at all, and I also have a screw loose, this was a major roadblock for me.

The husband understood perfectly, so did the mater. The sister got a bit shirty, but you can't please everyone, right? Most of all, I understood what was really bothering me so much.

The argument is that there are several suckers who sign up, nay, kick each other on the shins and hold a gun to someone else's head to get a chance to appear on TV. That 'Sach ka Saamna' was a big hit in its inaugural edition is proof enough of this fact. Kiran Bedi's 'Aap ki kachehri' had warring couples, families and whoever else in the middle of a feud come on TV and not only publicly wash each other but let Kiran Bedi hang everyone out to dry. I've always wondered why people would do this to themselves; maybe I overrated such concepts as 'personal space' and 'right to privacy' and whatever else.

It is also true that I completely and absolutely, from the bottom of my heart, detest these programmes because when I watch somebody baring their all on TV for everyone to judge and comment on, I feel like somebody who lost her way in a strange house and landed in a bedroom where a couple was making out against the cupboard. I almost tiptoe away and change channels with a mumbled 'Oh, sorry' in passing.

Hence, I turned the chance down. I have no regrets.

I am not trying to be Gandhi. I am also not trying to be, to quote Bridget Jones (after she tells off Mark Darcy) Mrs Iron Knickers. I realise that what I feel may be completely outdated, it may be naive and self-destructive. I understand that taking decisions based on the parameters listed above may mean that I always get left behind and never land good work.

Ah well, I still have love, music, family and a patient laptop to see me through. I shall survive.