Truth or Tamasha? The Unmaking of Indian Media

"In times of deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act." — George Orwell

There was a time when journalism was feared by the corrupt, trusted by the public, and respected by the state. It was a sacred profession — not merely a job, but a duty. Today, somewhere between prime-time theatrics and “breaking news” fatigue, we’ve begun to lose that sacredness.

From the clamorous newsrooms of Delhi to the hyperlocal bureaux in Assam, journalism is at a perilous juncture. The path ahead may take it to truth and public trust — or to irreparable harm, where noise masquerades as news and sensation obliterates substance.

Journalism: The Original Watchdog

At its best, journalism is the first responder of democracy. It is there to inform the public, reveal injustice, challenge those in authority, and give voice to the unseen and unheard.

The media never intended to be a tool of power. It intended to be a thorn in its side. To pose the questions the people cannot. To reveal what the powerful conceal. To be the watchdog that growls when power oversteps and bites when the truth is smothered.

It's journalism that exposes cons, reveals cover-ups, and reports the stories institutions would prefer to silence. Without a free press, there's no democracy — only delusion.

But something got broken along the way.

When the Headlines Began to Drift Like Driftwood

The rot didn't come overnight. It crept, it moved silently, in the guise of ratings. And now, we are presented with news like the driftwood — aimless, inflated with drama, and incapable of bearing any substance.

I recall the Namrata Borah case — a talented law student from Assam killed in a mysterious accident in Ri Bhoi, Meghalaya. For a fleeting moment, her face was plastered on local newsrooms. Speculation, some hubbub. And then silence. No follow-up. No accountability. No justice. Her name became a file number. The media moved on.

Not that the narrative was cracked — but that it ceased being "engaging."

The Raja Raghuvanshi honeymoon murder was turned into a gruesome trial drama on studio floors. Anchors yelled, panelists acted, timelines distorted. The tragic fate of the couple was turned into a TRP circus — facts sacrificed for fan-fiction.

Closer to home, the Sumi Borah trading scam played out like a made-for-TV scandal. An Instagram influencer based in Guwahati, her husband Tarkik Borah, and partner Bishal Phukan were accused of being scamsters before the ink had even dried on the FIR. Investigations took a backseat as social media and TV channels overnight became judges. The media didn't report the news — it decided it.

Is this who we've sunk to? Are we now character assassins at will, before even investigating?

Yellow Journalism: The Blight We Won't Call by Name

Let's not sugarcoat it — yellow journalism is not only here, it's booming. It's screaming headlines and graphics bombastic, one-sided reporting and fake outrage that's become the new normal.

We no longer fact-check. We amplify.

The line between news and noise has gotten so indistinguishable it's almost as if there ain't no line no more. A low-level skirmish in lower Assam? Pframe it for fire. Political rally? Season it with sound bites. Social media rumour? Run first, fact-check later — or maybe not later.

I've witnessed the harm it causes firsthand. In elections, when doctored stories overwhelm WhatsApp groups quicker than we can share facts. In floods, when relief breakdowns go unreported while unnecessary ministerial trips fill the screen. In evictions, when livelihood destruction is relegated to a five-second shot under 
"development drive."

We're failing. And in that failing, we're complicit.

We, the Media, Must Look in the Mirror

We blame corporates. We blame algorithms. We blame audiences. But first, we have to blame ourselves.

We've let access become complicity. We've confused being "first" for being "accurate." We've substituted field reporting for studio shouting. And worst of all — we've made it normal.

In Guwahati and throughout Assam, we continue to put in long hours pursuing actual stories — of land, of identity, of justice — but our stories never end up at the top of the skid row. Because they don't trend. Because they don't have hashtags. Because they require context, not noise.

It is time that we question ourselves — have we lost sight of why we came here? 

Redemption Is Within Reach

In spite of the cracks, I still have faith in the power of journalism to reform itself. The journalist reporting illegal coal syndicates in Upper Assam. The freelancer taking the backlash to reveal corruption in rural health centres. The camera reporter recording forced evictions in Lakhimpur amidst seedlings crushed beneath JCB tracks.

These are acts of courage, not content.

These are not the stories you'll always see trending, but they are the stories that count.

What we need today is a reset of the industry.

We need newsroom leaders who value depth over drama. Audiences that reward real journalism with clicks, shares, subscriptions. Other journalists who insist on ethics, even when it's hard. And most importantly — we need to keep in mind that journalism is not a show. It's a service.

The media's job is not to entertain or parrot state propaganda. It is to question. To confirm. To enlighten. To defend the Constitution, not dismantle it. And do it with integrity, empathy, and unyielding tenacity.

We need to take back journalism — from the influencers masquerading as reporters, from the studios masquerading as courtrooms, from the complacency that shrugs and says "this is just how it is."

Because at the end of the day, journalism isn't noise.

It's about truth.

And the truth is — the public deserves better.

And we, as journalists, must be better.

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