100 days at Stanford as a JSK Journalism Fellow

“You’ve managed to get a seat at the ‘top of the top’,” a friend remarked when she heard I had been selected for the John S. Knight Journalism Fellowship at Stanford University.

Recognition

For a journalist who has faced intense pressure, threats, and intimidation from the state; marginalization from her own industry; and alienation for challenging the status quo, the JSK Fellowship felt like the ultimate reward for everything I’ve endured over the past decade. It was a recognition for standing by the principles of journalism, for doing my job with honesty and integrity, and for documenting stories of discrimination, injustice, and violence perpetrated by the state and its agencies against vulnerable citizens.

It also felt like a reward for refusing to let the voices of the politically oppressed fade into silence — despite deliberate efforts by India’s mainstream media to erase their struggles from the public consciousness. For telling the truth at all costs, as journalist and Nobel Peace Prize winner Maria Ressa puts it, for “holding the line.”

The media landscape in India

With over 140,000 registered newspapers and periodicals, including more than 22,000 daily publications, India’s media scene is as vast as it is varied. It’s a place where stries are told in 189 languages and dialects.

The television landscape is equally sprawling, with over 900 channels in total — 350 of which are dedicated to news, many broadcasting around the clock.

But as India’s media landscape has grown, so has the concentration of power. Large corporate conglomerates now dominate the major networks, and this increasing corporatization poses a significant challenge to journalistic freedom and integrity.

By 2026, India is projected to be the world’s fifth-largest media market, both in print and broadcast television. But the rise of corporate influence is also eroding editorial independence, with business interests often shaping the decisions of media houses, pushing aside the core values of journalism.

The largest news networks are owned by powerful corporations, which are also the primary sources of political funding. In the last decade, much of this funding has flowed to one political party — the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). As a result, the role of the journalists at these networks has evolved: it is no longer about reporting the truth, but about shaping narratives in favor of the ruling party through lies, propaganda, and media manipulation.

It does not stop at just twisting the narrative in favour of the regime but mainstream media outlets in India have often stoked social divisions, spreading hatred against minorities and at times inciting violence. The corporate-political nexus has turned many journalists into power brokers, focused more on ‘deals’ than on delivering news. Legacy media figures, some of the most powerful people in the country, derive much of their influence from their proximity to the corridors of power. But for the poorest of Indians, the journalists in the big media spaces are seen not as independent watchdogs, but as extensions of the government’s propaganda machinery.

On one hand, the mainstream media wields immense power; on the other, there is a small but determined section of progressive journalism. Most of these platforms came into existence after Narendra Modi became Prime Minister in 2014, coinciding with a significant shift in the mainstream media towards a pro-government stance.

Founded in 2015, my organization, The Wire, is one of the largest independent digital news platforms in India. As a non-profit, it runs on people’s contributions and trust. For our investigative reports we have faced multiple police cases including a police raid on our office. The Wire as part of an international consortium investigated the use of surveillance software Pegasus to spy illegally on journalists and political opponents. The exposé rocked the Indian parliament and prompted the Supreme Court to order an inquiry into the state’s use of Pegasus. Two of The Wire editors were found on the spying list. I have been part of this journey as a senior editor, leading the multimedia team since 2018, and contributing to the platform’s mission to deliver fearless, fact-based reporting.

TV anchors, some of the highest-paid journalists in India, often receive annual packages that put them on par with corporate executives. I, on the other hand, chose to work with a non-profit news organization — one that is chronically underfunded but deeply committed to journalistic integrity.

In the past decade of covering the Narendra Modi government — reporting on its policies and politics — journalists like me have been pushed to the margins. Professionally, socially, and financially, we’ve faced isolation. I’ve been labeled “alternative,” “insignificant,” or “irrelevant.”

A global recognition

Despite immense challenges, I host one of India’s most-watched news programs, reaching millions every day. My shows on The Wire’s YouTube Channel (5.6 million subscribers) help document a reality that the mainstream media deliberately avoids. My shows are a vivid illustration of how the current government and its state machinery works against India’s marginalized and specifically targets the country’s 200 million Muslims, institutionalizing discrimination, violence and exclusion. The reach of my video programs has given me the ability to influence public discourse but has also made me a target of the ruling party BJP and its supporters.

While my primary work is in Hindi — a language often seen as “regional” and not deserving of international attention — I was deeply honored when my selection for the JSK Fellowship catapulted me beyond these labels. It placed my work on the global stage. For the first time, I was seen and recognized by the international journalism community, not just as a local journalist, but as one with a voice and perspective worthy of global attention.

I firmly believe in the transformative power of information, ideas, and debate to shape the world and drive meaningful change. At JSK, every day brings new opportunities to expand my knowledge, refine my skills, and connect with a diverse and inspiring network of individuals. Through my interactions with my cohort, I’ve been struck by the common struggles and aspirations that unite us, despite our varied backgrounds. Among my most valuable takeaways so far has been exploring different non-profit newsroom models — particularly in terms of effective administration and financial sustainability. Given India’s immense diversity, I believe this approach holds significant potential for the future of journalism in the country.

Indian and US media

Before coming to California for my fellowship, I spent several weeks covering India’s parliamentary elections — a monumental event in contemporary Indian politics. The election coverage took me not only to the bustling cities but also to small towns and villages across the country. It was intense, exhausting, and deeply immersive work. Little did I know that my landing in the United States would coincide with another historic election, this time with one of the highest stakes in American history. It was an incredible opportunity to witness an election of such magnitude from a completely different perspective, even though I was on the West Coast, far removed from Washington, D.C.

What struck me most in this juxtaposition, however, wasn’t just the political takeaways from the election results, but the stark contrast in how the media covered them. I’ve spent much of my career observing the Indian media landscape, and having now witnessed American media during this election, the differences — both in approach and tone — were profound. While India’s media often seems shaped by the power dynamics of the moment, the media coverage of the U.S. election raised its own set of challenges, particularly about credibility and relevance.

The “Podcast Election” moment

Matt Walsh from The Daily Wire, a conservative media platform, wrote: “Legacy media is officially dead. Their ability to set the narrative has been destroyed. Trump declared war on the media in 2016. Tonight he vanquished them completely. They will never be relevant again.” Walsh’s tweet encapsulated a stark reality that many Americans now face: the legitimacy of traditional media is under question, not just for bias but for its very existence as a trusted source of information.

While in India, there was a growing concern about media manipulation by powerful elites to favor certain political regimes, the challenges in the U.S. were more existential. The narrative now is no longer about who controls the information but whether the information itself, in its traditional form, still holds power. Donald Trump’s second presidency will mark a decisive shift not only in American politics but also in the American media landscape. The media’s influence, reach, and relevance are now under intense scrutiny.

This challenge is underscored by Trump’s unorthodox communication strategy — specifically his reliance on podcasts and social media over traditional networks. He has managed to bypass conventional media altogether, speaking directly to millions of voters through platforms that were once considered “apolitical.” In a country where TV media has long been a primary source of political discourse, Trump’s method forces a hard look at whether these traditional institutions are even keeping up with their audience’s evolving consumption habits.

“What if they become irrelevant?”

At Stanford, our JSK Fellowship cohort organized an election watch party. I wasn’t a direct stakeholder in the election — I hadn’t reported on American politics before — but sitting among journalists, I felt the same tension that grips a newsroom during critical moments. Journalists were asking each other: Did Kamala Harris make a mistake by sticking too closely to traditional political communication? Did Trump beat her by tapping into the pulse of the people, seemingly disregarding mainstream TV media and speaking directly to them through podcasts?

It wasn’t just the political outcome that had everyone on edge — it was the realization that the media’s role in shaping public opinion might be at a crossroads. The night felt like a moment of reckoning for the American media. The “red wave” election wasn’t just a shift in political direction — it was a reflection of a broader discontent with the way information is shared and consumed. What does it mean when people increasingly turn to alternative platforms that bypass the “legacy” media altogether? Will traditional media — whose power was once so central to shaping public discourse — become irrelevant?

This question looms large over American journalism. The disdain many powerful figures, like Donald Trump and Elon Musk, have toward the mainstream media is no longer just rhetoric; it’s a public, almost gleeful, dismissal of an industry that has served as the gatekeeper of information for generations. If they continue to challenge the power of legacy outlets, will new media figures — podcasters, influencers, and independent journalists — replace the traditional news spaces built over decades?

The global impact

The fear, of course, is that this shift in media dynamics will have far-reaching consequences. For me, as someone who has worked in the Indian media space, the real question is how this trend will impact the global South, particularly countries like India. In India, where media often walks a tightrope between political influence and journalistic integrity, the growing influence of social media and unregulated news platforms could prove disastrous. Will the Indian media landscape follow in the footsteps of the U.S., further consolidating its power in the hands of a few, and undermining the very essence of independent journalism?

I can’t help but feel a deep sense of unease about how the erosion of media credibility in the West might fuel similar patterns in countries like India. It’s a moment of profound transition not just for American media, but for the very way we understand the role of journalism in a functioning democracy. Whether we are in the West or the East, the future of media looks increasingly uncertain — and that’s something we all need to reckon with.