As always, the words have been in hibernation.
And the trigger? Summer. Somnumbulence. Sleepiness induced by mirage like heat haze. And of course, demotivation.
Key word in my program these days. De Mo Ti Va Ti On.
Some in my work place might be baying for a taste of my disgusting blood right now. Some, the better ones, are often constantly over worked, over screamed at, and live in a huge, bobbing, surreal, space capsule. A space ruled by fast, feckless commands and constant edginess.
But they will agree on the de motivation.... We all are. Hanging our heads down, staring so hard onto our computer screens so hard, hoping to pierce in a few explosive holes on the monitors Just by staring.
U see, the menial masses that run the functional, superficial yet superciliously arrogant and smug Indian news media industry, lost out on a whole 36 months of pay hikes. The cause given was standard, factory line, store front excuse- the recession. Of course, the recession was also the phase when most of these media companies moved into plush multi storeyed expensive properties in Delhi with their new offices. This is also the time when commercial breaks ate into most prime time news shows and other weekend programming.
But still, the recession didn't on the surface permit pay hikes.
So now, the endless wait for some acknowledgement of the lost year, and countless hours of lost plodding through work, including a national election and plentiful terror attacks, is getting, well, endless.
So we all float around like characters outside the Matrix with hangdog expressions, cursing management and hoping the papers come around soon.
And the higher lords of Indian sermonization as well as the world saving task of running networks, walk around, calmly, coolly, avoiding our searing gazes.
So why on earth am I writing this?
For I want someone, anyone out there to listen. To understand. To feeeeeeeelllllll the pain, for gods sake.
It's all high and mighty to pretend that journalism is mostly, passion. In reality, it's very often one of the few career choices in India that gives one the scope to have some variety at the work place. Or in my beat, mostly, some make up and a pretense to cover up consistent dumbness.
So when the ka chink of the cash is missing, well, all passion, is on Siberian deep freeze. I also don't think it's fair to keep anyone on standby, of hopes and pre planned loans, for so long.
So will somebody offer a few words of solace? Writing this has been semi therapeutic.
And the trigger? Summer. Somnumbulence. Sleepiness induced by mirage like heat haze. And of course, demotivation.
Key word in my program these days. De Mo Ti Va Ti On.
Some in my work place might be baying for a taste of my disgusting blood right now. Some, the better ones, are often constantly over worked, over screamed at, and live in a huge, bobbing, surreal, space capsule. A space ruled by fast, feckless commands and constant edginess.
But they will agree on the de motivation.... We all are. Hanging our heads down, staring so hard onto our computer screens so hard, hoping to pierce in a few explosive holes on the monitors Just by staring.
U see, the menial masses that run the functional, superficial yet superciliously arrogant and smug Indian news media industry, lost out on a whole 36 months of pay hikes. The cause given was standard, factory line, store front excuse- the recession. Of course, the recession was also the phase when most of these media companies moved into plush multi storeyed expensive properties in Delhi with their new offices. This is also the time when commercial breaks ate into most prime time news shows and other weekend programming.
But still, the recession didn't on the surface permit pay hikes.
So now, the endless wait for some acknowledgement of the lost year, and countless hours of lost plodding through work, including a national election and plentiful terror attacks, is getting, well, endless.
So we all float around like characters outside the Matrix with hangdog expressions, cursing management and hoping the papers come around soon.
And the higher lords of Indian sermonization as well as the world saving task of running networks, walk around, calmly, coolly, avoiding our searing gazes.
So why on earth am I writing this?
For I want someone, anyone out there to listen. To understand. To feeeeeeeelllllll the pain, for gods sake.
It's all high and mighty to pretend that journalism is mostly, passion. In reality, it's very often one of the few career choices in India that gives one the scope to have some variety at the work place. Or in my beat, mostly, some make up and a pretense to cover up consistent dumbness.
So when the ka chink of the cash is missing, well, all passion, is on Siberian deep freeze. I also don't think it's fair to keep anyone on standby, of hopes and pre planned loans, for so long.
So will somebody offer a few words of solace? Writing this has been semi therapeutic.
I loved your title for this post...I can imagine the intensity of your desire to be like what I picturise as the famous Edward Munch painting -The Scream...
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