Radio has always carried a certain charm, intimate yet expansive, simple yet powerful. It slips quietly into daily life, asking for little but offering companionship, information and a sense of belonging. Long before screens dominated attention, radio was the trusted voice in the room, connecting distant geographies, diverse languages and countless lives through shared listening.

India has never been held together by sword or statute alone. What truly bound this vast land, across centuries and kingdoms, is an invisible thread spun by its saint-poets: a living gospel of compassion, equality, and the oneness of all souls.

What happens when a teenager secretly blows his grandfather’s money day-trading in the forex markets?

India’s television network connects 900 million viewers across 230 million households nationwide. As of March, 918 private satellite channels are operational, reflecting a vibrant broadcast ecosystem.

In the summer of 2011, a small news item in a Bangalore daily caught my attention. It said the world’s only Sanskrit daily, ‘Sudharma’, published from Mysuru, was on the verge of closure due to financial difficulties. I was intrigued. How could anyone dare to publish a daily newspaper in a language often dismissed as 'dead'?

For over a month now, Karnataka has simmered under the weight of an explosive rumour: a whistleblower alleged that hundreds of women and girls were sexually assaulted and murdered, their bodies secretly buried around the sacred Manjunath temple in Dharmasthala. The accusation electrified the state. Overnight, a revered shrine became the alleged backdrop of unspeakable crimes.