[Poem] How to kill a journalist

• Better not try doing that.
• However, you are doing this to many
• farmers, Dalits, minorities
• teachers, students, workers
• you don't even spare the children;
• they die without oxygen,
• you are killing them.
• Why journalists should remain exceptions
• when you are doing this to many
• women, poor, marginalised,
• free thinkers, liberals,
• everyone, who is not a clone from your factories,
• of headless and illogical bhakts;
• why journalists should remain exceptions.
• Being a journalist I know the secrets;
• limitations and weaknesses
• of our roles and profession
• so, let me help you kill a journalist.
•  
• You give big money to the owners,
• big ads, I meant
• allot them real estate projects,
• a Padma award, membership in Parliament
• make them your secretaries, OSDs
• even allowing them selfies with you helps sometimes.
• Plant your seeds in the newsrooms
• and let them influence the day plans;
• their closeness with you will pave their promotions,
• and your control on the content
• And if the editors are not on their knees
• stop ads, keep the bills pending
• a police raid also helps sometimes
• refuse them any interaction, their right to question
• throw them out of your forts, offices.
•  
• Ensure, the one who still decides to write
• is removed, sacked
• and unable to get a job anywhere, in his own industry.
• Deny them rights as employee
• keep them arrested to the cuffs of capitalism;
• the EMIs, school fee and the contractual engagements
• will ensure they remain silent
• or dead.
• Many of us are dead, already
• the rest are shamed, trolled, harassed
• and sidelined.
• You are already ruling the newsrooms
• your words are script of the packages,
• agenda of the debates, headlines of the front page,
• hashtags of the social posts.
•  
• However, a journalist is a different breed, you know
• violence
• bullets
• attacks
• assaults can't kill them.
• You may devise many other ways to kill a journalist
• but don't you try kill them with bullets, dare you
• they never die,
• they multiply.


Also read: My spineless country murdered Gauri Lankesh in cold blood