And the lad grew up with strength
He demanded from his mother
To know who his father was
A question that has left him with
A sleepless night in the streets of life
A question about his father
The teacher has asked him to tell
Who his father was and a fellow student
They make jokes out of the question
Who is your father and not your mother
Because he believed that;
A woman alone can make a child
The lies his mother had told him
To hide away from her pains to love
Perhaps, the lad is now a man
And he wanted to know this man
The man everyone else said that
He looks like his father and nothing more.

Who is my father?
The lad demanded from his mother
Why am I being lied to all these years
Tell me who he is that they say I look like
And the woman as her usual way to tears
She baptised her garments with her tears
Wailing to the rivers that run dry years ago

Calling the love she killed at her tongue altar
He betrayed me and killed our love
He was a poet when I know him first
He was building a castle I was afraid of
To inhabit such a dream was my fears
I became jealous and envied him to death
Even when he was innocent of my accuses
He never minds the ways I rant at him
Not until the day he told me that he regretted
So I chose another way of killing him
I took you away from his home town
I made sure he never sees you again
But each time I look into your eyes,
I know that I am still with him before my eyes
You are not another except your father
I had murdered our love for my anger
I nailed it with chapters from the books of grief
Where the air breathes there are sorrows
Unfulfilled promises and many longing

There are several journalistic flaws that need to be addressed. For one thing, the aforementioned staff seem to thrive on telling their story and ‘enlightening us’ with their truths instead of distributing and publishing facts like they should. Thanks to the 21^st Century, blogs exist, as do private journals, which have existed much longer. If they are so interested in the theoretical and emotional side of the story, either of those two routes may be their best bet. Secondly, the hierarchy of importance concerning news stories, daunting of a task as it may be, is an insult in and of itself. When the world shifts towards a singular event, they are completely distracted by said event instead of what is occurring elsewhere. Thank goodness there are those who risk their necks to keep every story as prominent as the cover page and not on the sidelines collecting dust. Sometimes, there may be an exception to the rule. For example, a writer may go against the grain and climb monumental heights to publish the truth because they may be stuck working for a dangerously stubborn and/or corrupt editor. Other blunders include spreading propaganda, misinformation, and disinformation (major difference), as well as media censorship and figures of authority who pay the media to publish certain stories over others. It is because of reasons such as these that I cannot, in good conscience, support and respect this particular area of writing, save a few selected sources.

With bias acting as the chief deity over all who dare to publish the truth, unless we are direct witnesses to said events, who do we believe? How much should we believe? When did news become chisme? I haven’t the slightest idea. It is challenging to say, especially since we live in a society and a time period where hard research, substantial facts, and scientific data are, for whatever reason, not enough for people anymore. Thank goodness for fact checking websites, especially since the task of distinguishing fact from fiction seems to be up to us. There are certain subconscious diseases that some in this industry possess, and they are known as ‘agendas’. Agendas create mass confusion and hysteria. Agendas breed children of agendas. Agendas tend to spin their own individualized webs, which become tangled in the bittersweet end, eventually transforming into a nostalgic game of ‘Telephone’. While I am not an individual who believes that the entire encompassment of the media is a firm hoax, I believe it would be arrogant to declare the exact opposite as well. The subconscious motive to instill fear in both readers and viewers has almost become its own religious, adrenaline-filled experience, complete with suspenseful music. With the exception of hype-free forecasts, the same exact claim can be made for just about every major weather channel. The meteorological prophecy of rain showers the following day will translate to, “THE END IS NEAR! WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE!” The problem that stirs is when people become accustomed to the ‘meteorologist who cried wolf’ scenario, when there is a legitimate forecast that proves imminent disaster, many citizens tend to shrug off the peril without so much as a care in the world. Oh, to suck on the refreshing popsicle of cruel, yet righteous irony…

That being said, this piece serves two purposes simultaneously, one being a satirical and realistic nod to journalistic writing at its most ‘refined’, and the other as a middle finger of frustration regarding it. Naturally, lampooning it made this endeavor more of a dark tragicomedy than anything else. Originally, I wanted to submit this ‘article’ to The Onion to see if it would be worthy of publication, but after pondering on it, I decided to expand on the idea and flesh it out as much as I could. I turned it into an exclusive, consisting of the article, an editor’s note, and a series of interviews with a select few people involved in the ‘event’. For those who need a reminder, while the opinions expressed in this piece are objective, remember that they are still merely opinions. I am no demigod. What I choose to express is not gospel, nor do I foresee it being so in the near future. On the other side of the same coin, I would be lying if I wrote that this will not offend anyone, even if the lack of offense is my objective. On the other hand, someone once said, “If you are not offending or upsetting anyone, you are not producing anything worth reading.” Even my father encourages controversy in one’s work. At this point, I could not agree more. After all, why not? I don’t mind subjecting my readers to a pinch of shuddering nerves every now and then. Besides, the universal motto in this day and age, both in and out of the news is, “Everyone is entitled to my opinion.”

September 5, 2025

-from Lotus Mandala

I have been awestruck by the way he speaks about the villages he has worked for. He has infinite respect for all creatures. From the shadows of ignorance, when he draws them to light, he is not watching his steps. He goes headlong into what he thinks is necessary. Thankfully, he is blessed with the instinct for the right path.

He calls his endeavour, the teacher of the streets. He invites his fellow men to act as he does. He has spread the message in remote districts of India, places where political interference is the least. According to me, his motto is, I go where political leaders fear to tread.

Looking back at the type of government intervention designed to bring to light all the backward classes, I feel, for all these seventy-five years, they have done very little. Their minions are insincere. Even some of the local orders are directly opposite of what makes the poor enlightened.

Ignoring all hurdles and taking many risks, Nayak has made great strides in educating backward classes. I told him, poverty is a favourite subject of writers. He was not amused. He has seen so much poverty that what the fictionists have written appears far less dismal.

His enthusiasm for the Adivasi community, which is his focus now, prodded me to look at education from a philosophical perspective. I am not very comfortable telling tales of squalid situations, but I decided to delve on the mystic quality of his efforts. In this narrative, fictionally told by his eldest sister, I have omitted references to places, time, the pandemic and other circumstantial facts that probably enhanced his philanthropy. The guiding principle of this litany is educationist. The guiding light is the man I am calling Deepu.

Anuradha Bhattacharyya

Chandigarh