Must, not, must, not...

Must not buy into the media-driven overload of information that 9/11 was a life-changing event. Except the USA's.
Must buy into the belief that what counts is lives of people who died. On that day. And since.
Must not let the din from the 9/11 anniversary drown out the muted cry of thousands of Somali children dying of hunger and thirst.
Must keep in the mind that vested interests are our primary information sources. And the interests are not often mine.
Must not take the moral high ground.
Must not take refuge in the low ground of moral ambiguity.

The Western bias

The extent to which the news wires are Western-biased is sometimes appalling.
Consider this story filed today by one of the world’s top agencies: Joey Vento, owner of a landmark south Philadelphia cheesesteak stand, who once told customers to order in English, has died.
How big was Vento? Big in the States, maybe.
I come from Pune and am wondering if the wires will carry a story on the founder of Joshi Wadawale, or the Vaishali owner, passing away – a long life to both if they are still alive.
Note to all journos: don’t be hard-wired to the agencies

D-uh!

There are some things that are so painfully obvious that surely there is joy to be had from merely stating them. Let us indulge then:
1) This is the first time in 20 years that the Indian cricket team does not have a frontline, make-the-other-team quiver kind of spinner.
2) Freida Pinto is the cosmos’ perfect example of how being ‘at the right time, at the right place’ is all that matters…
3) … that and a good Hollywood agent.
4) Readers always get the press they deserve, not the one they want and never the one they need.

In print, no more

I am a diehard print media person. But, life throws you these curve balls, despite me doing my best to complicate things on my own… so my print publication is going online.
For the first time in 12 years I will not be working for something that is not printed and distributed before being read.
When people who met for the first time used to ask me, “So, What do you do?”
May answer would be, “I decide what 100,000 people will read first thing in the morning. What do you do?”
Not anymore, at least not in print.

Journalism beaten, but alive

Sycophantic journalism finds it full oeuvre in the Gulf. I have a simple test for the only journalism that I respect – the one that makes life hell for those who are entrusted with the lives of society. If you have not been arrested, beaten, threatened, or in India had your face blackened, been garlanded with slippers, you’ve failed as a journalist.
Two Sakal journalists getting beaten for trying to expose a construction scam in Pune was a reassuring reminder that in some places that type of journalism still exists.

Like this classic is a reassuring Christmas must:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s_W7p35SzuI&feature=related

Headline headlines

Three days on the trot for Tiegah. Beggars belief, even for a sports maniac like me. I hate golf.
Nevertheless, the combination of a name like Tiger and bird-lenient golf jargon is a headline writer’s dream.
The one that has been mentioned most by newspaper columnists (the ultimate accolade for a journo is when a fellow scribe praises you, yeah, screw the reader!) has been the New York Post’s – Tiger admits he’s a Cheetah.
My favourite this week is from The Sun – Best English Group Since The Beatles – for the World Cup group England were drawn into.

Newspapers are closing down? Good!

Newspapers lost the plot the moment they stopped being the collective conscience and decided to be products.
I was with India’s largest English newspaper group when it went overboard trying to maximize profit. The Old Lady of Boribunder became the whore from Colaba.
I believe newspapers should not be for profit. To be a journalist is not a career, it’s a vocation. If you haven’t got beaten up, arrested, or at least threatened, don’t bother calling yourself a journo. Shut the papers.
Start anew. Return to the pursuit of truth and knowledge for the benefit of a better society.

Columnitis

To be a columnist you need to be pompous, opinionated in the extreme, totally self-absorbed, and myopic of view. And then, you should know how to write. I’ve had the chance to be a columnist. I know. At the time, when I met a new person and they asked, ‘So, what do you do?’ I would reply, ‘I decide what 100,000 people will read first thing in the morning, what do you do?’ That’s called suffering from columnitis. Sundays is my favourite newspaper day because most columnists are on display. Most fit the criteria, except, knowing how to write.