Is Media Biased?

I have often pondered upon this whilst listening to the news. So, is it?

Most of us would not respond to this question with a yes since many of us find it easier to switch the channel, than to think about the rationale behind it all.

The news media had to give up being idealistic when it was demanded of them to be big ‘money-churners’. Let’s face it. There is no money in news. All that most of us want is to tune in, get a few specifics for the day, any major story on telly, and check out all in a short span of 10 minutes.

As a news channel, higher the rating, higher the revenue generated for their advertising space from the various companies. This is possible only when the news sells. This is not new news for any of us. We all have noticed that out of the many shows on air, the ones that remain have a few similarities and generalities. The situation is such that if you do not look at the channel’s logo you might not be able to differentiate between one channel and the other.

With the race to be the best in News, the reporter integrity, importance of the story and its relevance have all taken a back stage. In their thirst to be paramount, the truth is often twisted to such an extent just so as to capture audiences’ interest. To make the audience tune in and keep them glued to their program, the use of such words as ‘crime’, ‘racist’, terrorist, ‘sex’ is made. Whether the same are relevant to the news, it really does not seem to make any difference.

It is human nature, to stay a moment longer to learn what happens next, and that is what has been exploited by the media. However trivial may be the ‘news’, a ‘panel of experts’ on the subject having an opinion which needs to be aired on National Channels mysteriously appears. Are these panels on a standby for the News Channel? Given the traffic and other demands of daily life, it would take a normal human being some time to reach the Studios. The ‘Experts Panel’ has no such issues!! The sparring of these experts makes for very entertaining watch.

Media plays to a selected audience, depending upon the news for the day. An example from yesterday, Osama’s death has caused the media to go into an overdrive trying to get sound bites from families who lost their loved ones in 9/11. I am sure the families are still revering from the loss they had suffered. All they want to do is pick up the pieces and try to re-build a life without their loved ones.

The question worth debating now should be, after such a public death of an ideological leader for the fanatics, what do you think would happen in terms of repercussions, if any. The question would not be addressed because it is easier to over-look it. It is easier to brush it aside and indulge in some chest-thumping. It would help in keeping the public from not thinking of the real issues that may surface.

The truth is in this age of reality T.V., public does not wish to be a mile away from the action; it wants to be in the midst of it, to get a thrill that the public is a part of the whole situation.

Media wants that the spectators are emotionally involved in the whole situation and the outcome. An emotionally invested viewer will watch the show till the end, in turn guaranteeing a higher revenue generation.

So in the end, my question again, “Is the media unbiased?”

Ma

Hello Mom

It has been very long since I last talked with you, extremely long. Well, life has a way of catching you in its throes and then you never do find time for the actual important things. But in the recent past I have often thought of penning down my thought for you to read, things that I could never speak to you, could never share with you, that I so badly wanted to talk to you about but never did. I was afraid of what you would say, how you would react, if what I said was not what you wanted to hear. So I never said those things and many more remained unsaid between the two of us.

Growing up I wanted to be cuddled and hugged by you every hour of the day, wanted to live in your shadow, never wanted to grow up coz growing up meant moving away from you. There were times when I was scared of you, coz I knew I had behaved in a manner you did not expect of me. You never said anything at those times. Many a mistake of mine have you overlooked, giving me a stern look was all you did.

You talked more with your eyes and I knew the meaning of every rise and drop of your eyelids. The unspoken word meant more to me then the spoken words. What was left unsaid was many times more important then the said word.

You were a strict mother; you had to be, being a single parent most of the year. At that time I did not understand, but now I understand the amount of self-restraint you must have used. Being a mother has made me realise the labour that you put into every thing you did for us, be it such a small thing as being at our sports functions to being awake before us to ensure we took a tiffin to school. I know, it seems minuscule but when one is supposed to get up at 5 in the morning so that the children can be got readied and tiffins packed, it is not a small thing (speaking personally, of course).

Now that I am mother, it has made me realise the role a mother plays in a child's life. A good mother can make a child while a bad mom can mar the child forever. I just want to tell you that you have been a very good mother and I wish I could have told you this when you there to hear/ read these words.

I am amazed at the strong will power you had till the last breath you took. You wavered only once in your desire to live and that broke me so much to see you weaken. Your body was much weaker then you in strength. All I wanted to do was hold on to you for longer, but I knew that would be selfish of me, so I let go. I let go of one thing that made sense in my life at that time.

There are days when I hear your voice and turn around to talk to you and realise that it is just imagination playing with my mind. But you are always there with me. Every step that I take I talk it out with you, every decision I make I discuss it with you. I sit down and think of what you would have advised me and then work from there.

Ma, I think it is time for me to now grow up and stop making my decisions on what you might have advised and live my life on my own as you always wanted me to. You had always wanted that I be my own person, and I remember how angry you used to get when I used to look at others for help.

So here's to living life as it should be lived..

On my own terms.. not on what the others wanted but on what I want


Love you and hope you are in a happy place

Handmade card by me

ThankYou card made for my son's Chairperson's visit

Being a mother has helped me not only to re-discover a dormant side of my creativity but it has also made me face dead-lines. Made this card under similar circumstances with the sword of time hanging over me. Started and finished this in about 2 plus hours.
Just managed.. phew!!

Sketch.. deleted

I d put up a sketch of self.. did nt like it.. would try and work on a new one and put that up..

...and the sun went down

She was skipping along the dirt road dressed in a pinafore of white with pink flowers. Her long black hair swung lightly with the breeze. Her hair fell in her eyes, which she absently swept back with her hand. She held on dearly to the white lilies in her other hand. Her once white sandals were now covered with dirt, but she cared for nothing and skipped along the dirt-road.
It was late in the evening; the time when the sun is about to bow out for the day. From a distance she seemed like any other child of twelve years who was going home. Looking closely, one could see a frown on her face and a fear in her eyes. She wanted to reach home before her mother got worried and set out searching for her.
It was not the forest that she feared or the wild animals in the forest, but the look of disappointment on the face of her mother. A single disapproving word from her mother wilted her. She was not skipping, but runnning as quickly as possible, given the limp she had in her leg since the day she fell in the playground and broke her right leg. It never was properly fixed.
There was a rustle behind her, but she was not dettered. She moved on without looking back. Her mother's face loomed in front of her. This time the rustling was nearer and louder. She moved on.
The rustling grew into sound of footfall. She was sure it was not a wild creature, coz then she would not have heard the footfall. Reassured she moved along.
A hand came out and touched her, expecting it to be her friend, she turned around with a smile... her smile froze when she saw the person to whom the hand belonged.
She tried to run away, but the hand held her firmly and would not let go. She tried biting the hand, kicking the owner of the hand.. all in vain. She cursed herself for not starting earlier for home. She knew this time she was in big trouble and even her mother would not be able to help her.
The hand covered her mouth, so that she could not voice her thoughts or call for help. The owner of the hand pulled her along the path, dragging her, dirtying her pinafore. She was scared now.
All she wanted was to cry out for her mother.. she would save her, but the hand did not let her talk to her mother. She tried communicating through her mind with her mother, but the mother was too busy worrying about her daughter to hear her child's silent cries.
The owner of the hand crushed her windpipe till she could not breathe and life went out of her eyes. Her bright, full of life black eyes, now were open and staring listlessly at the owner of the hands.
She would never reach home to her mother, who must be wringing her hands now and pacing up and down the pathway to the gate of the house.
The owner of the hands looked at the once warm body of the daughter that was now becoming stiff as death took the body in its forgiving arms. The owner of the hands was sobbing for the loss that had happened, he was wailing for his lost daughter.
He picked up the small girl in his arms and moved towards the gate where the mother was pacing, in anticipation of her husband. When she saw her husband carrying the girl, she broke into tears. She knew her daughter was now in a better place.

Thank You


I thank you for being a friend.

No strings attached, no being damned.

Accepting me as a friend, with little or lot.

’Unconditional’ a word this world has forgot.

You hear me out, when I need to talk.

Hanging in there no matter how rough the walk.

And all the times past, and those to still come.

Bringing my spirits up, when down they've been run.

So if I seem distant, cold or not here.

Remember inside, I'm thankful you care.

Godess of Power, Maa Durga

Maa Durga

A sketch that I had been intending to do for a week and finally did today!