My mailing on the media scene has evoked varied responses from friends.
Here's an unusual one by long-time journo K Balachandran, who feels journalism is truly on its last legs.
Below are his thoughts about journalism, and the requiem he has written for the profession:
A few drops of tears for our seriously ailing dear old journalism.
This poem is my response.
May be judgemental, but I think what I see is true.
But journalism being a capitalist cat, has new lives.
Nine or even more. We still would struggle to bell the old grey cat.
Requiem for journalism, limping on its last legs
By K Balachandran
Your invincibility, our pride, was just an illusion
With bleeding hearts, we come to this conclusion.
Cruelest of all is this change in climate, it kills all
Heart broken we mutely witness journalism's fall.
Painful, but let's admit, this is inevitable
very reign has an end, this was predictable.
Why do we lament? Time sets the rules
As time passes, we'll find this change also cool.
When money become sacrosanct, ideas fall
This is fate, why none saw the writing on the wall?
Why do we lament? It began as a gentle soothing breeze
But what has it become, a Chimera, so crass.
Journos rejoiced in mayhem, murder was real hot
Robbery, rapes and riots eagerly sought.
None of us I know, can pretend 'holier than thou'
Values weren't much problem, moolah alone was true.
Work hardened journos were like a hungry pack
Always looking for a kill, or something to hack.
I won't say they traded their soul to devil
The devil had his due, and was happier than in hell.
Painful, yet inevitable, every beginning has an end
Sustainability has certain rules, you can't break it, only bend.