The art of translating editorials

In July 2022, when Amit Baruah, a senior journalist from The Hindu, rang me, I was driving and could not take his call. He then sent me a message that read: ‘Something important. Call me back’. A few minutes later, I spoke to him. he told me that the newspaper wanted its editorials translated into the Hindi language and that he had been tasked with finding a good translator. “Would you like to do this? You will have to begin from August 1,” Mr. Baruah said.

My journey from being a journalist to a translator had begun with a stroke of luck more than two decades ago. It was 2001, and I was working as a political reporter. The editor of Frontline, N. Ram, had interviewed Arundhati Roy, and their conversation had been published under the headline, Scimitars in the Sun: Arundhati Roy on writer’s place in politics. My editor wanted to publish that interview in Hindi. I contacted Ms. Roy. She agreed to a translation, but was worried that words would be lost or misinterpreted in the process. She insisted on seeing the interview before it went to print. When I shared it with her, she told me that she was happy. Over the years, I have translated the writings of thinkers such as Arundhati Roy, Nandini Sundar, Ashutosh Varshney, and Surinder Jodhka.

You would imagine then that I would agree immediately to Mr. Baruah’s request. But I was apprehensive: I was only used to translating social and political writings. As a voracious reader of The Hindu, I knew that editorials are written on a range of subjects and I was somewhat terrified of this editorial diversity. The next day, I shared my apprehensions with Mr. Baruah. He assured me that it would be fine: I could share my first draft with him and he would send it back with corrections, if needed. I finally agreed.

I began translating the editorials using simple Hindi words and Hindustani idioms. Initially, I would send the translated editorial to Mr. Baruah and he would return it to me with some changes. I would then send the copy to the desk. Four-five months later, he asked me to send the copy directly to the desk — a clear signal that he had become confident of my skills.

While I did this religiously every day, I had no idea who was reading these translations. One day, I happened to overhear five civil service aspirants talking in a train. They seemed to be on their way back home from a coaching institute. Earlier, they said, editorials of several English language newspapers would be translated into the Hindi and handed out to them at the beginning of class. But now, they were being given photocopies much later, sometimes only at noon, because translated editorials were anyway uploaded on the newspaper’s website by then. A young woman in the group said that this was useful and the translations were good. I smiled to myself.

But I also realised that one cannot please everyone. Days later, someone objected to the use of Urdu words in the translated editorials and said Hindi could not be “saved” if this kept happening. I argued that the English we speak today contains several words of French origin.

Translating the editorials of The Hindu has enriched my own language skills. Now I can translate almost any text, except perhaps medical jargon. I may not have produced great original writing in Hindi, but I am happy to know that good writing in English is now reaching a wider audience in another tongue. After all, making factually accurate information and balanced views available to the public is the duty of a responsible citizen.