Are you there, Arnab? It’s us, the nation.
The mic has gone out of our lives. You’ve quit The Newshour, Arnab Goswami, and all I want to do is yell at you. What will happen to us, your viewers? If you can hear me, yell back so I know you’re okay.
I am not married, but I feel like breaking my choodis. I’ve been watching you for years, and so much I have learned from you. You taught me what it means to be an Indian. When 26/11 happened, we watched you as you took deep breaths to tell us that you knew very little. But it didn’t matter. I knew you were a patriot. You have always made us feel that an attack on the nation is an attack on you! That was the first time I understood what it means when all these left-liberal types say, the political is personal.
Pehle I would not want to say anything to anybody about political matters, but with you in my ear (still ringing from the previous night’s debate), I felt that I, too, had something to say, that I was part of the nation! People keep saying how loud you are but it is a silly argument. In print, a journalist has their pen, on TV, they have their voice, aur kya?
Before you, I didn’t know the power of “one minute/ek minute” — nowadays, I use it just like you; saying it repeatedly can shut anybody up. I say it all the time to my neighbour, Mrs Shompa Banerjee, who thinks you’re not a journalist, you only shout at everybody. Nonsense! You brought them on your show to hear them out — but is it your fault that your voice is made louder by your patriotism?
The Newshour was double dhamaka, ek expert ke saath ek free. Where else on TV would we get such a great deal? I bought the biggest TV just so that I could see more faces on the screen. Your departure has left me speechless. Sabse bada khiladi audience hoti hain, Arnab. Stop this drama and tell me which channel to tune to. The nation wants to know.
Chatty Kamla is your neighbour who has an opinion on everything, just like you.