Sunday, 28 April 2013

A year's journey

So, here I am on the eve of completing a year as journalist, before I transcend to become a 'reporter' from a 'trainer reporter'. It has been quite a year. From not knowing anything, to now finding the job easy and a drag at times. I can safely say that I've become wiser. No no, I am still as stupid as I was, just that now I am aware of it, which is why I say that I'm wiser now.

My stupidity to help someone has always clashed with my work, it still does, and I think it's losing, my stupidity I mean. Even as I type this, my head ferments an idea to write about for the day, about something that is not passe. After a while, I think complacency becomes the leitmotif of journalists everywhere. While the semblance of acting as a saviour may reflect upon journalists, I think people need to really understand how we function. I'll begin with explaining how I used to wake up and how I do now.

Exactly ten months ago, life was a struggle every single day. I wasn't exactly spartan in my time table at that point, so I used to get up and then read the newspaper I get at home, to get a story idea to pitch to my boss. Honestly, waking up everyday and trying to find a story made me kind of desperate. While my boss would give me something to do at times, I had to more or less find a 'good' story everyday, and something big at that. I was of course happy to get by lines for my work, but at that point of time I wasn't really getting many, and it only added to my troubles.

Getting a by-line was hard, and after getting one, when I used to put in the same effort for another story, I was mostly disappointed. This I confided to someone, and if it wasn't for that person, I doubt I'd have continued working. Now, I laugh with some other journo friends of mine about the 'super stories' we work on, berating our own line of work. Anyway, what I described continued for about five months or so, until one fine day I got pissed. I decided I'd work my ass off, or I'd quit if I failed. Thankfully I didn't, and I even got shifted to the section I wanted to (yay for me).

Aaaaaaand, life has become much easier since then. Work pressure is always there, but I guess journalists become smarter over time and are competent enough to adjust. Those who can't, well, there's no place for them. That's my opinion anyway. So, here I am, about to finish a year as a reporter, and all I can think of is another story for tomorrow. Now a days, I wake up in the morning, read about three or four newspapers, and find something to work on. Which brings me to wonder whether I should quit, and try to find something more challenging, or I'll end up becoming like some of the seniors I loathe. Perhaps I will; probably when I'm pissed off again, I'll find something better to do.


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