A reporter, a correspondent,
They saying it often
And this I have been hearing it since my childhood.
In the small town, the district town of the then times,
I used to hear,
He is a reporter, a correspondent,
But we used to view life otherwise,
How to be a man was most important to us
Rather than becoming a newsman?
Instead of farmlands and properties,
We aspired to be Brahminical,
Religious, devout and pietistic
Rather than critical of,
Believed in dharma and karma
And the reaping of consequences.
Many who used to bring out local dailies
Used to do this and that,
The petty-petty men
Bringing out petty-petty things
As well as petty-petty poems,
Even the non-matrics bringing out.
The correspondents, reporters and newsmen are like
Pleaders and insurance company agents
And these will rise high in life
As for goodness or badness,
But the original will trail and lag behind,
I am sure of it,
As have seen it personally.
One media man said he,
I go to even that place where the dead body lies thrown off
And it is in reality a news item,
What the media man said struck it not,
As he reports for money, name and fame
But I try to be human
And this is the difference to be felt and marked.