There have been moments in my life that, when I look back, leave me with only questions—questions that still make me wonder why. I never joined journalism school out of passion; I had always wanted to pursue law. Yet today, when I hold my published book The Attempt in my hands, I see the fruition of my labor. I don’t wait for others to read or review it. I’m simply proud of having written, edited, designed, and published it all by myself. The journey wasn’t easy. I battled insomnia, often waking up in the middle of the night to jot down thoughts that surfaced in my restless mind. The process was intense, demanding immense dedication and devotion. Yet the most fulfilling part was the freedom from judgment, the feeling that I was in control of my own experiences and words, allowing my creativity to flow naturally.
Coming from a middle-class family, I see my writing themes and ideas reflecting my background. I understand what it means to throw yourself into uncertainty, to have nothing and still strive for something better. I consider myself fortunate that I can express myself, share my experiences, and keep learning and unlearning along the way. Perhaps this ignition would never have sparked without my time in journalism school. In the span of four and a half years, I was taught empathy above all and to be the voice of the voiceless. I learned about mass communication, media ethics, human rights sensitivity, media literacy, media laws, reporting, investigative writing, and the nuances of media trials, angles, and sources. The field is vast and pragmatic, and I don’t think anyone without such training can truly translate its depth.
However, when I look at the current state of media practice in Nepal, I see a contrasting picture. Dozens of media outlets are mushrooming and they are spreading false information. The media landscape has turned into a battleground of misinformation, disinformation, and malinformation. Today, anyone can show up and write anything about anyone. Being seen and heard has become easy, but to what purpose and to what extent?
As a literature graduate, I understand deeply what it means to express freely.. The Constitution of Nepal, in Article 17, enshrines the right to freedom. As human beings, our nature resists control, yet we must also recognize that freedom requires responsibility. In journalism, a reporter’s qualification isn’t only about how well they write, but also about their morality and motivation. Unfortunately, I rarely see such reflection in today’s newsrooms. Catchy headlines often outweigh the ABCs of reporting. Partisan news sells more than independent stories. Unregistered online media sometimes gain more public trust than mainstream outlets. It’s important to understand that not every good writer can be a reporter, and not every reporter can be a good writer. My heart burns when I read news written without an understanding of what a true “nose for news” means. Truth is not gossip. No one has the license to write about anyone or anything without consent or purpose.
Creative storytelling and journalistic storytelling are vastly different. Though often used interchangeably, both fields have distinct purposes and disciplines. As a graduate in English Literature and Journalism, I see this distinction more clearly than those who study only one. I say this with conviction, because journalism today has, for many, become an easy route to entrepreneurship, often without the necessary knowledge or practice. The result is that Nepali audiences are not being served, but misled. One of the most dangerous powers of media lies in how it sets narratives, how information is framed to shape illusions and manipulate public perception.
