How does one promote a story of a tribal woman who started making and selling honey after she learnt how to on YouTube that she watched on her husband’s phone? How will that fare against endless podcasts of Bollywood glitterati that effortlessly rule the algorithms? Soni Murmu, the Santhal tribal woman in a forest at the Bihar-Jharkhand border, will never grab even 1/1000th of the eyeballs (and likes and shares, and advertisements) an Alia Bhatt or a Kartik Aaryan, will fetch.
But, to shine a light, however briefly, on people like Murmu, who do not matter either to the State or the mainstream media (unless it is partnered content), has given me enormous satisfaction. These citizens lead an unglamorous life in media-dark corners of the country. They attract neither hashtags, nor any investors. But I strongly feel the stories of these unconventional protagonists, their everyday wins and losses, need to be recorded, for posterity.
Journalism is a shrinking space. Environmental journalism more so. It isn’t uncommon to be branded as anti-national for speaking out in favour of the environment and demanding protection for our forests, rivers, wetlands, flora and fauna.