Registered with the Registrar of Newspapers for India under R.N.I 53640/91
Vol. XXXIV No. 6, July 1-15, 2024
You Tube Journalism
-- by Sabitha Radhakrishna
According to a reputed newspaper, there are over 1 million Tamil YouTubers in India and the numbers will explode to 92 million. Staggering number but not surprising. Which one of us has not been affected by YouTube?
People are doing “research” on YouTube (it used to be internet and Wikipedia) and base their findings after a “concerted” study. It does not occur to them that some news might be fake. Many of them are fake however convincing they might seem. Quick fixes for self-healing and home remedies are lapped up by eagerYouTubers, and when the experiments prove they do not help, there is a growing frustration but it does not diminish the thirst to “know” more. The well meaning friends impose it on unsuspecting groups who are forced to read it and draw their own conclusions.
Frankly I think the forwards from YouTube and what they find newsworthy are such a waste of time. One friend who is strongly opposed to this said it is an insult to our intelligence when old news is recycled and produced in whats app groups, and more so when paper clippings are photographed and sent. “Don’t we read the newspapers, don’t we watch news?” she asked. I merely shrugged my shoulders as it is the present time-pass for most of us where even reading has taken a back seat. Some are self-appointed journalists, and deem it their duty to inform the various groups they are part of, describing happenings and funny situations, and health advice, and the ones who receive these forwards read them out of a sense of duty!
It is not that I keep off WhatsApp myself. In this day and age of instant communication it is the quickest way of reaching people who are alert and who watch their notifications all the time. I use it extensively for work and delegating responsibilities to our members who keep our organisation aloft.
So much time is spent in answering every single WhatsApp message lest you be accused of indifference and not responding the way you should. Life has changed for me after WhatsApp came into existence. Messages go back and forth and much of the time during the day and sometimes into the night. We get impatient with those who do not read messages intended for them and feel let down if those dear blue ticks do not appear which indicate that your message has been read. Alas the good old email is neglected, and I am guilty of it too, more so when you get about 60 to 80 odd mails a day and it all piles up if you don’t delete them as fast as they appear. You have to wade through the pile of messages before you come across an important one.
What I love on YouTube is the collection of old songs be it any language. And not to forget the recipes whether I try them or not and the tutorials on art, painting, knitting or crocheting, and of course there lies a second chance to watch an old movie whose orbit you have come out of, and which beckons to you once more. Movies like Manthan which created waves recently after a new polished digitalised version was shown at Cannes. I am hoping it will be on Netflix or Prime, and it would be rewarding to watch a young Smita Patil, Girish Karnad and Naseeruddin Shah.
I look at my library of precious books many of them out of print. First step to downsize is offering my cookbooks to the girls in my family. They look at me with disdain. “Amma who wants cookbooks? They are obsolete. You type one ingredient and a host of recipes appear on YouTube, such wonderful ones.” I resist the urge to remind them that I have written 5 cookbooks myself and all are selling well. Nursing a deflated ego, I wonder which library would accept my collection of books.
As a journalist of 40 years standing, my research and those of my colleagues would mean visiting libraries to write a single article. The memorable visits to Connemara Library, browsing through old dusty pages of British gazettes and papers to catch a stray vital piece of information on whatever subject you are writing about are hard to forget. The lady in white was always at hand, pulling out the books I needed, and what a joy of discovery to look at the carved furniture in the Library and gawk at the exquisite stained glass that is part of the ancient grandeur of the building! I used to borrow books that I could take home, and there seemed time for them despite my crowded schedule.
I would, as a member be granted entry into the over-century old Theosophical Society Library, to unearth some more gems of written history whilst scripting for national documentaries on Doordarshan, TV. My biggest regret in life is not knowing Sanskrit or to read Tamil fluently as that would have been a great asset in research.
When Madras Craft Foundation housed its library in Besant Nagar, I would spend hours searching for what seemed like treasures. Seek and ye shall find was what kept me aloft. Occasionally I would venture to their library which shifted to Injambakkam if only to meet Indu my library friend who would make my search easier.
Today the youngsters contact experts who are friendly, interview them over the phone and that’s where the resource matter lies. No need to visit, just a zoom meet and you can gather all the information you need. The youngsters have it easy and the publications seldom question the authenticity of the information in the article. And they claim importantly they have done their “research”. And if you are generous enough to share the material with them, you are oft quoted wrongly and you wonder why you even bothered to talk to them. Well, old habits die hard. After the initial wooing, coaxing information out of you, telling you that it would help in writing their thesis etc., once their work is complete you may be sure you will never hear from them again!
Tomorrow if there is an explosion and the communication route goes full circle which does not seem possible right now, I would be happy, to address those envelopes neatly, stick stamps on them and post them. Post them? When I requested my maid to post a letter on her way home, she blatantly confessed she did not know the existence of a post box or a post office, but that’s another story!
