Kamala

“I started freelancing when I was in college. As you continue with your gigs, your confidence grows and people in your industry start recognising your name.”

I completed my under-graduation from Stella Maris in Chennai. Whenever a lecture was cancelled or I had a few hours to myself, I would pop over to the TOI office down the road, and ask if I could help. The Editor who also became my mentor, saw my passion and gave me plenty of work despite my lack of experience. She listened to my ideas and encouraged me to report them. I am always grateful for her kindness and the opportunities she gave me. I started freelancing when I was in college because I hoped to get a full-time job after graduation. Soon, I was interviewing everyone- from pop stars to celebrities, I was writing about cultural and food trends that rocked the city and even reported on bomb blasts and health scares.

I now live in a small town. Back in the late nineties, news revolved around the radical sweeping changes that were taking place in India’s metros. Even today, the bulk of Indian news still revolves around the power centres of Mumbai and Delhi. For years, I wrote health and science stories, because I felt these were universal, and that I could report them from where I lived. I began freelancing for the Reader’s Digest and other national publications. And then in 2001, I began writing for publications based in other countries. I lived in a town which had very little representation outside of its local papers. It was my intention to change that, but the biggest challenge lay in making local issues internationally relevant. I decided that every story had its lessons- lessons that I needed to deep dive to find. I soon realized that every experience could be universal if people cared enough. I am involved with newsroom gigs all over the world. Every time a local story goes international and people all over the world relate to it, it gives me a deep sense of joy, connection and lasting satisfaction.

Safety is a concern, but this is true for most journalists, because we often brush up against a raw reality. You may not even be reporting from a war torn area or a seedy part of town, but sometimes the unexpected can overwhelm you, and there’s little you can do about it. Forbes Life India commissioned me for a story in 2016. On the outskirts of my city were some stunning Jain monuments and temples. The Jains were wandering monks who lived centuries ago and who always made their home in the isolation of the hills. To report the story, I climbed every one of these hills, explored the rich carvings at their summit and took many photographs. I took what I thought at the time was every precaution I could.

I didn’t go alone–I was accompanied by a local guide; someone I trusted and who knew the hills well. I was careful about where I put my feet, because I expected the landscape to be ridden with snakes and scorpions. However, I’m not an experienced climber and dangling an expensive camera over my neck and climbing vertical faces of rock proved to be a challenge. I chose to go during the day, facing the full fury of the scorching heat. The rocks could be slippery and dangerous to clamber over in the evenings when it was cooler but the lighting and visibility was poor. It took me a half hour to scale one of the hills, but when I reached the top, I was stunned by the raw power and beauty of the sculptures I was gazing at. I took photographs and then just when I was done, a large opening in the wall of rock a few feet away caught my eye. It seemed like a cave, so I bent down and shone my torch into it.
I froze. It took me every ounce of strength to not scream or drop my torch. Staring back at me, squinting at the light from my torch were four pairs of glittering eyes. I will never forget the terror of that moment. I took a step back, while still keeping my light focused on the cave. The floor was littered with liquor bottles and cigarette butts. One by one, four men emerged from inside it. One of them asked me if I were an ASI (Archaeological Survey of India) officer and I said that I was. In a voice that I hoped was authoritative and mildly curious, I asked them what they were doing there. “We were just leaving,” they said hastily and to my enormous relief, they clambered down the mountain with an ease that I marvelled at. I hadn’t expected to find people crammed into a dark damp cave, 400 feet above the ground, in the middle of the afternoon. I had taken every safety precaution, but still found myself in a situation where I was vulnerable and where I encountered the unexpected, but that’s life. As a journalist, you can’t afford to be paralyzed by fear.
As a freelancer, every day has a different lesson in store for you. These lessons become the base of your experiences which empowers you for good work. And when you are passionate about your work, it becomes one with your identity, it empowers you every day of your life.