In Kerala's ghats: the newspaper still holds prime space

Election posters in Wayanad, Kerala

I am headed to the ghats. Western Ghats. Our destination for the night is Kozhikode ( Calicut) but I'd like to stop at Kalpetta, the district headquarters of Wayanad in Kerala.

Wayanad rose to the top on the election news agenda after Congress president Rahul Gandhi decided to contest from a second constituency and chose Wayanad, the hill country in south India.

The dry, sun-burnt landscape of Bandipur borders Kerala. This is a busy tourist destination but recently, a intense forest fire did considerable damage. As we drive through the forest zone we see Fire Service teams posted at a few places off the main road.

Colour posters of Rahul Gandhi and the Congress symbol greet us on the border and there are dozens of them all along the main road as we motor into town. The posters of the CPI(M) challenger here are few and far between. But they get our attention.

Evening isn't the best time to catch journalists. That too at election time. On my tour, I have had to gatecrash into newsrooms or corner local reporters or stringers. Because this is more of a road trip and I am happy to meet and talk to any journalist on my topic.

Kalpetta office of 'Mathrubhumi' newspaper

A. K. Sujit heads the Wayanad bureau of 'Mathrubhumi', one of Kerala's leading Malayalam newspapers. He is busy in an editorial meeting when I call. And minutes later, he is off on an assignment. Ever since Rahul Gandhi formally announced his intention to contest from Wayanad, newspeople here have much on their hands. There is more to report at every turn.

Sujit is kind: he puts me on to his colleague Neenu Mohan. So we head to the Mathrubhuni office located on the Kalpetta main road. On the first floor, in one single room are a few terminals on the desk where people are at work. A TV fixed to the wall is on silent mode: Mathrubhumi's TV channel is 'live', reporting the election scenario from across the state that evening. ( www.tv.mathrubhumi.com).

Neenu Mohan has lots to file but takes a break to talk to me.  She says that bureau teams like this one in Kalpetta are busy all the time since they are based in district headquarters and because the dailies have editions from every zone of the state. So print is demanding, and that demand increases at election time. She says the Internet Desk seeks inputs when a story breaks locally and the bureau can provide additional details on the run.

Clearly, in a state where people consume news a lot and are said to read more than one newspaper, in a state where people debate and discuss politics hard and long, print journalists continue to pay a lot of attention to stories they file for the daily. 

The newspaper is as important as the daily's web site and its TV channel.

In Mysuru: BJP smarties are way ahead in the social media game

Laiqh Khan of The Hindu in Mysuru

I drive out of Bengaluru, and am headed to Mysuru. On many at-dawn drives out of town I have noticed that you hardly see newspaper circulation boys on their rounds. Nor do I see shops that open at dawn and have a clutch of the day's dailies to sell.

This confirms what I have been hearing for over a year. One, there is a drop in English newspaper sales ( though many dailies claim increased readership) and that newspaper circulation agents find it really hard to get boys to circulate dailies. 

In Goa, if you want to read a daily you must go across to the area's store that stocks them and pick them up - regulars have their copies packed and ready!

So it takes us some time to spot a hawker shop in Bengaluru to get our daily dose - and since the lady here sells all the brands, we pick a bunch of them.

Laiqh Khan is The Hindu's correspondent in Mysuru. He has worked here, then had stints in Bengaluru and has come back to his home town. Laiqh isn't keeping well but I coax him to talk to me; he obliges.

Laiqh says every reporter in town has at least 40/50 WhatsApp groups on his/her smart phone - from the local police chief and MLAs and MP, to the panchayat heads, prominent politicians, civic bodies, police and educational campuses.

Many bodies now communicate via social media - so news streams in 24x7.

The WhatsApp groups increase at election time. "The BJP at all levels has one of best social media teams around. They know their job and they are at round the clock, be it sharing stuff from their headquarters or on local campaigns and candidates and responses to issues raised by the opposition," Laiqh tells me. "The Congress guys need to be pushed while the BJP teams are well motivated."

Laiqh then shows me a simple software he uses to record phone interviews. "I switch it on when I interview important people. It comes in handy especially at election time when there are possibilities of politicians denying they said something," Laiqh tells me. 

And he plays me a recording of a chat he had with a senior official of the local university on a controversial development recently.

Laiqh says that his experience at the regional edition office of The Hindu has helped to understand what works and what doesn't for his newspaper and so, he tailors his work accordingly. 

If he thinks shooting a video clip of an event is important, he does this and shares it with his team. The same applies to shooting pictures - and all this he does on his smart phone.

While Laiqh's video content has been used off and on, I can make out that The Hindu is yet to encourage all its reporters / correspondents to shoot photos and videos and be multi-taskers yet though the journalists are capable of doing this. 

And The Hindu's Karnataka section on its website
( www.thehindu.com), in its Multi-media section carries a video on the fire that broke out in Bandipur forest, a destination for wildlife enthusiast. 

The videos are few and far between. And hardly any video reportage on Elections 2019.

Bengaluru: how and why print news can be king

The display board at the office of Deccan Herald in Bengaluru

It is a Sunday afternoon and cricket fans are pouring into the Chinnaswamy Stadium in the heart of Bengaluru; to watch a India Premier league match that stars the home side, Royal Challengers which hasn't had a good run this season.

I have an appointment with two journalists at the local edition of 'Times of India' whose office is just off M. G. Road, that iconic city space which many old-time Bengalureans feel has been marred by the Metro Rail structures.

B. V. Shivshankar is Assistant Editor at the Times, with long experience in TV as well as Kannada journalism. He tells me that even as a youth he devoured news on politics, from the newspapers he read daily without fail; this came in handy when he finally chose journalism as a career. 

He recalls the days of political stars of the state like Ramakrishna Hedge and Gundu Rao, the rise of the BJP, the era of T. N. Seshan as the 'bull dog' Election Commissioner and of many an electoral battle in Karnataka.

"We didn't need Google or use a smartphone then. It was all here," he says, his finger pointing to his forehead.

Shivshankar believes that today, young journalists' dependence on online resources can be traced to their limited or shallow knowledge of the subjects they cover/write on.

"Today, we compete with people who themselves report stuff that happens," he says. Information, factual or otherwise is in the public space every other minute. So is its propagation. So he believes the reporter and writer of this age must approach journalism differently.

And this is where his/her knowledge of politics, politicians, processes and elections comes to play when one is called to report/write on an election like Elections 2019.

Shivashankar says that TV and news websites and social media provides spot coverage. And that a lot is unsaid and not reported. "We aren't information providers any more. That the electronic media does."

So his approach in the age of technology is to dig into the background and context the report with the current.

"In print you don't have to be afraid of wary of online," he tells me in the office canteen. "Print has a different job to do in today's context. We have to give ourselves time to see how best to do that."

Shivshankar's colleague Chetan, who reports on defense and science in Bengaluru but is game to write on elections as he does this season, nods in support of Shivshankar's argument. 

He says 90% of stuff on social media comes from media houses or from state agencies; that people are not reporting news. "They do not get factual news."

"Television sets the agenda for print journalists, " says Chetan."And so their work is tough and often borders on speculation."

Chetan's premise is that communication in India's print media has not changed despite advances in new technology. 

"You tell readers what they cannot find online. People are not all that smart yet and they turn to newspapers to tell them the news," he says.

Chetan says he has based his journalism extensively on data that is available online and off and the result has borne good fruit. 

He gives me the example of looking at the data of votes polled by various parties across India in the last general elections and indicates that neither the Congress nor the BJP can be called national parties because they did not get a huge number of votes and didn't do so across the country.

He too admits that the 24x7 coverage of elections by TV channels is impacting much on print journalists - in choice of stories and in coverage.

Roadside newspaper stall in Bengaluru

'Shillong Times' finds it difficult to attract the tech-savvy to journalism

Shillong Times office

Patricia Mukhim invites me to visit the office of 'Shillong Times', the newspaper she edits. But I have two hours free on my hands. I locate Madras Cafe in the heart of a bustling shopping-bus station centre of the city where I treat myself to masala dosa and coffee even as a big group of people, obviously from Tamil Nadu chit-chat and gossip loudly, in Thamizh. 

Madras Cafe must be the first destination of travelers from the southern end of the country. I then zip across to what is commonly called Don Bosco Museum - a fantastic work by the Salesians religious where the focus is on the North East's indigenous people, customs, histories, life, art and craft.

You need at least 90 minutes to quickly explore this grand space.

That done we drive across the city, and into what seems to be a Cantonment zone; we negotiate winding roads on the hillside and spot what looks like an independent bungalow.

It isn't.

I am at 'Shillong Times'.

I must take the stairs that leads to the underground offices - the pre-press room is on one side, the printing press on the other and further down, the editorial offices. Only then do I realise all over again that I am in hill country.

A page designer at work

Patricia is at her desk and she takes me to the News Room. The hall is empty save for one designer who is working on a page of the group's Garo newspaper, 'Salantini Janera'.

In a small cabin here, three young women are at work. Two of them edit copy and are about to wind up for the day.

The Desk; sub-editors at work

The third, Nabamita Mitra handles the Sunday magazine pages of the Times. The current issue has a front page feature on the state of Khasi musicians and explores if traditional music is losing out to Western music - which has a huge following in the North-East.

Nabamita is from Kolkata and on a whim, chose to leave behind the Kolkata phase of her career in journalism and get adventurous; that is how she landed in Shillong. In that small, partitioned space for Nabamita and her two colleagues, we spend some time talking about a journalist's job in this state.

They tell me that many people, especially the youths are reticent when it comes to speaking their mind or sharing their views considering the sensitive and fluid atmosphere that has existed in this region. "Nobody would like to go on record or even be seen in a photo," they tell me.

Meghalaya's youths are fixed to their phones and access and use social media a lot but they seem to be less interested in news developments and more keen to get employment. "They banked a lot on jobs in the state sector but that having failed them they now look to go outside to get employed," they tell me.

Patricia tells me that it has been extremely difficult to get young people to work for the newspaper. Nobody wants a desk job and few are keen to invest time and energy in serious journalism. And this does tell on local newspapers like 'Shillong Times'.

Save for posting the daily edition online ( the English and the Garo one) as E-papers, the Times has a very basic website (www.theshillongtimes.com); it has not tapped technology to advance its publishing. The reason - it does not attract tech-savvy people who wish to work at a newspaper.

A small newspaper of 1945 vintage keeps journalism alive: in Meghalaya

Shillong landscape

From my base in Guwahati I make the road trip to Shillong in Meghalaya. The road is pretty good but the multiple hairpin bends negotiated at 90 km/h by my taxi driver unsettles me though I have had an early breakfast and am a roadie-journalist for ages.

It takes about 90 minutes to reach the fringes of Shillong but another 30 minutes to get to the city centre - the narrow roads which also take lorry traffic can only let vehicles crawl their way. So I stare at the little hawker-shops, all of wood and at every corner, fresh pork meat is being sold.

Patricia Mukhim is the editor of the 1945-founded 'Shillong Times' and she has invited me to her home for a quick conversation.

Editor of Shillong Times, Patricia Mukhim

Patricia and her newspaper were in the news recently in a rare case in which the Meghalaya High Court slapped a severe fine and a punishment on her; the contempt of court case was slapped because the newspaper reported on a pile of benefits and add-ons that the judges of this court had sought post-retirement, including fancy smartphones for them and their wives. Thankfully, the Supreme Court has given this feisty journalist some relief now.

In her wonderfully-designed house just outside the busy city centre, Patricia tells me that her journalism takes off from the spirit of the newspaper's owner and former editor who allows her the freedom to do what is right, even though the man is now a politician. She admits that the pulls and pressures on journalists in a small state are many and hard but she has managed to deal with them well.

But Patricia has a bigger challenge - the dearth of skilled, trained journalists tells on the quality of journalism that local newspapers offer. "Those who apply for a job are keen only to work at the Desk. They do not want to go out and report because they feel it is tough," she tells me. So she now manages with only two reporters and an enterprising deputy, Jose who often travels the state to file long stories.

Communication lines are much better now and WhatsApp is seen as a useful tool to file stories and send pictures.

However, the website of 'Shillong Times' which was launched some two years ago is primitive, to say the least.

"We just don't get people to work for us," Patricia throws up her hands. And tells me of the political and economic-social trends in Meghalaya this past year.

"I once saw a TV advert on turmeric powder sold by a Tamil Nadu agency and I said - Now here in Meghalaya we have the finest turmeric and all we need is good marketing to help our farmers."

The WhatsApp Stringer: in Nalbari, Assam

Road from highway to Nalbari town

This assignment was worked out to converse with journalists in cities, towns and in the districts. Though I can meet only a few in every state that I visit, even these meetings can reveal much.

From Guwahati (in Assam) I take a taxi and head to Nalbari, some 70-plus kms to the east. Minutes outside the state's capital, we are on a giant bridge across the mighty Brahmaputra river flowing southwards, with some barges on it this morning.

Alongside, the hilly terrain runs a vast camp of the Indian Army and beyond, the quiet rural landscape.

We turn left off the highway, into Nalbari and on the one kilometer stretch, I notice at least five large billboards with prime minister Narendra Modi beaming at you. Electric rickshaws alone are allowed to ply inside the town, its main road abuzz this morning.

I have made contact with Manoj Sarma of 'Dainik Asom' daily and he asks me to be at the gate of the collectorate. Out of the crowd emerge two men and you know they are hackers!

Mazid (left) and Sarma at a restaurant: the WhatsApp page active on their smartphones

We adjourn to a popular restaurant because Manoj and his community of stringer journalists work from home and the local Press Club has got a new address at the city square but the place isn't ready yet - the doors, windows and all else are being fitted now.

Sarma is keen to take me down the past - to a local reporter's work life in the outbacks. "We used to write our reports on paper and fax them. But getting the line connected took over 30 minutes. Then we used couriers to send reports ( to Guwahati) or send them and photos by bus. In the 80s, the phone lines were bad so it was a struggle to report breaking news."

Abdul Mazid joins us at the table here; he strings for a couple of dailies ( 'Dainik Agradoot' and 'Eastern Chronicle') and runs his own printing press. Everybody who works as a Stringer in the districts here is either running a business or selling insurance or engaged in retail business.

Sarma and Mazid now own laptops and since the lines are good, filing from home is easy. "But most of us simply file from our phones if the news is a few lines and if photos have to be sent. All by WhatsApp, " Sarma tell us as chai is ordered and two more Stringers join us.

A newspaper shop in Nalbari, and the clutch of dailies of the day

Nalbari has about 20 media people; with some 14 working for newspapers and the rest for TV channels. Across this district, Sarma estimates that over 100 Stringers provide news to their clients.

Kamlesh Sarma who works for 'Asomiya Pratidin' here says they click pictures or record interviews to store as evidence - evidence to use if stories are challenged. And those challenges come from this town and from people who are written about.

"At election time we send two or three stories every day and if there is an event or a rally, we send photos. Our newspapers use them in the local editions. But our big grouse is on payment. Even the MNREGA payment made to people who work for the state is higher than what we sometimes get," says one of them.

Town square, with the Press Club on the top floor of the central building

Sarma and his colleagues take me to a bookstore when I ask to buy all the local dailies of the day. They then insist that I take the two storeys to their under-construction Press Club. They shoot a photo of myself in their group.

The next morning, in Guwahati I find that photo and a 4 line news story in one of the dailies.

I have made local news!

The Old Lady of Guwahati grapples with new tech: 'Assam Tribune' experience

Office of Assam Tribune, Guwahati

I am scheduled to meet the executive editor of Assam's oldest English newspaper, The Assam Tribune.

Started in 1939, The Assam Tribune had the cake and ate it heartily for many decades until the promoters of  dailies in Kolkata decided to increase their footprint. The Telegraph started an edition here and thereafter, the Times of India. The Old Lady of Guwahati got some rude shocks, woke up to increasing competition, rejigged its content and promotionals and survived the challenges from many ends.

Today, the Tribune runs two editions - in Guwahati and in Dibrugarh.

Page One of the Assam Tribune

Much of what the mainline newspapers have been publishing on the elections on the north-east has been primarily because of the consistent and high-profile campaigns that the BJP has been making in this region.

And the BJP has not been shy from making its intent known - get a bigger footprint here.

On Guwahati's main road, the shopping hub, the image of Narendra Modi beams down from multi-storeyed complexes. Save for the odd mini-vans of the BJP and of the Congress which blasts recorded slogans, the election buzz is low profile.

It is well past 8 p.m. when I walk into the office of the Assam Tribune. In the corridors, the staff are crowding at notice boards and are animated. I learn that the results of the elections of the Staff Union have been announced.

Executive executive Prasanta J. Baruah  says he will be with me once he sees off some key stories.

So I catch up with Ramanuj Dutta Choudhury, Deputy Editor in his cabin. When he learns that I am from Chennai, Ramanuj says he just stopped his subscription of the Kolkata edition of  'The Hindu' because it was giving him too much of news from Kolkata city when his expectation was for news from the state and region.

Deputy Editor Ramanuj at his desk

Noticing that he is scrolling the website of his newspaper ( www.assamtribune.com), I ask him to tell me about their online experience. He does not have a long story. The website is a simple, old generation one, with National news dominating the top, links to videos sourced from different places and a generous roundup of local news that does not get great play on the home page. There are a few local adverts.

Ramanuj says the Tribune's E-paper generates good traffic. And he lets me know that in recent months, a good percentage of traffic is from China! But he does not know why.

With such basic online operations, the Tribune is yet to move to a multi-media, tech-driven News Room. And hence, its reporters are not GenNext hackers.

Executive editor Baruah admits the Tribune has much to do to be in line with the technology age of journalism. He takes me down to the times when the Tribune seemed complacent because it was the No.1 newspaper of Assam and assumed that local editions started by The Telegraph and Times of India, from their bases in Kolkata would not affect them much. They did, so the Tribune woke up, ran a tough phase in changed content and marketing and circulation and saw through the competition.

Newspapers like the Tribune in Assam face a big human resource problem. There aren't skilled, educated youth who fit the bill. So, publishing a daily is a challenge by itself.