I was reading the newspaper as a daily habit, sipping my morning tea in the familiar corner of my balcony in Patna. The ritual is almost meditative—the rustling of pages, the smell of fresh print, the slow absorption of words that claim to tell me what matters in the world. But something caught my attention this particular morning. I noticed a sudden, dramatic shift in the front-page headlines of the “Hindustan Times.”

Previously, NDA ruled the headlines with all the talks of development, education, and employment. Page after page glorified infrastructure projects—new highways cutting through rural Bihar, digital classrooms being established in remote villages, skill development centers promising jobs to thousands. It was all like bragging to hide your failures, a carefully orchestrated symphony of half-truths and selective statistics. The front pages screamed progress while the inside stories whispered about unfilled teaching positions, delayed project completions, and unemployment figures that told a different tale.

Today, however, the pages were colored with Mahagathbandhan promises. Tejashwi Yadav, aka Tejas, has rolled up his sleeves and jumped into the battleground with renewed vigor. The headlines had transformed overnight—suddenly it was all about social justice, jobs for youth, and promises of change. It’s all tamasha, you know. The irony isn’t lost on anyone paying attention: they have been on the ground since April this year, but the media coverage surge happens to coincide perfectly with election season. Coincidence? I think not.

The Manufactured Reality

This stark shift in newspaper coverage made me pause and reflect on something we rarely acknowledge: how effortlessly the media shapes our consciousness, our priorities, our very understanding of reality. One day, development is the only thing that matters. The next day, it’s social justice and employment guarantees. The issues haven’t changed—Bihar’s challenges remain constant—but the narrative lens through which we’re asked to view them shifts like sand.

According to a 2023 study by the Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism, nearly 67% of Indians consume news primarily through television and newspapers, with another 45% relying on social media (these overlap, as many use multiple sources). What this means is simple: the gatekeepers of information—editors, media houses, corporate interests, and political connections—have enormous power over what we think about, how we think about it, and crucially, what we don’t think about at all.

In Bihar specifically, the media landscape has become increasingly polarized. Different newspapers serve different political masters, and readers often self-select into echo chambers that confirm their existing beliefs. One person’s “development” is another’s “empty promises,” depending entirely on which paper lands on their doorstep each morning.

The Pattern of Political Theater

What these leaders do is just fool people with their old promises, recycled and repackaged with new buzzwords and branding. Tejashwi’s promise of 10 lakh government jobs became a rallying cry in 2020. Nitish Kumar’s promises of “Saat Nischay” (Seven Resolves) dominated headlines before that. The BJP’s talk of “Sabka Saath, Sabka Vikas” rings through loudspeakers across the state. Each coalition, each alliance, each leader has their signature slogan, but the fundamental script rarely changes.

The media amplifies these promises during campaign season with the intensity of a million suns. Prime-time debates dissect every word, every rally speech becomes breaking news, every promise is analyzed by panels of experts who themselves are rarely neutral. Then, once elections conclude, the coverage diminishes. Accountability journalism takes a back seat. The promises fade into the background noise of governance until the next election cycle resurrects them.

A report by the Association for Democratic Reforms (ADR) analyzing the 2020 Bihar elections found that major political parties spent an estimated ₹1,000-1,500 crores on campaigning, with significant portions dedicated to media management and advertising. This isn’t just about posters and rallies anymore—it’s about controlling the narrative through paid content, strategic news placement, and social media manipulation.

The Changing Ground Reality

Here’s what strikes me as most fascinating: things have changed; people are content with their lives; they have children in schools; and they are living a prosperous life in congested places. This isn’t to say Bihar doesn’t face challenges—it absolutely does. But there’s a disconnect between the apocalyptic tone of political rhetoric and the actual lived experiences of many Biharis.

Walk through the lanes of Kankarbagh or Boring Road in Patna, and you’ll see coaching centers bursting with students preparing for competitive exams. Visit any district town, and you’ll find small businesses thriving, mobile phone shops on every corner, and people engaged in commerce that didn’t exist a generation ago. According to NITI Aayog’s Multi-dimensional Poverty Index, Bihar reduced poverty from 51.9% in 2015-16 to 33.76% in 2019-21—still high, but representing millions lifted out of extreme deprivation.

Yet, if you relied solely on campaign rhetoric and media coverage, you’d think Bihar was either a development paradise or a complete disaster, depending on which channel you watch. The nuanced reality—progress mixed with persistent challenges, hope coexisting with frustration—rarely makes for good headlines.

The Consciousness Industry

The media doesn’t just report reality; it constructs reality. This isn’t a conspiracy theory—it’s simply how media works. Every editorial choice about what goes on page one versus page seven, which politician gets interviewed versus which gets ignored, which statistics are highlighted versus which are buried in footnotes—all of these create a framework through which we understand our world.

During election season, this becomes even more pronounced. The media coverage creates a sense of urgency, of crisis, of momentous decision-making that demands our immediate attention. Every rally is “historic,” every promise is “game-changing,” every alliance shift is “earth-shattering.” The temperature of political discourse gets artificially elevated because conflict and drama drive viewership and readership.

But here’s the uncomfortable truth: most of governance is boring. It’s about incremental improvements, bureaucratic efficiency, budget allocations, and policy implementation. These things don’t make for exciting headlines. So, the media focuses on the theater—the personal attacks, the dramatic promises, the coalition politics—while the actual work of governance receives minimal scrutiny.

Beyond the Headlines

What bothers me most about this manufactured reality is how it shapes political engagement. When everything is presented as a crisis or a revolution, when every election is framed as the most important election ever, people experience fatigue. The constant drumbeat of dramatic political coverage actually disengages citizens rather than informing them.

Young people in Bihar, particularly Gen Z, are increasingly skeptical of both traditional media and political promises. They’ve grown up watching the same patterns repeat: big promises before elections, tepid implementation afterward, blame games in between. According to a 2024 Lokniti-CSDS survey, trust in media among young Indians (18-25 years) has declined significantly, with only 34% expressing “high trust” in news sources compared to 52% a decade ago.

Yet, the alternative—tuning out completely—isn’t healthy for democracy either. An informed citizenry requires reliable information, and when traditional media fails to provide it, people turn to social media echo chambers, WhatsApp forwards, and unverified sources that can be even more manipulative.

A Call for Media Literacy

As I finish my tea and fold the newspaper, I’m struck by a simple realization: we need to become more conscious consumers of media. This means:

Recognizing bias: Every media outlet has biases—ownership interests, political leanings, target audiences. Acknowledging this doesn’t mean dismissing all media, but rather reading critically.

Seeking multiple sources: Don’t rely on a single newspaper or channel. Compare coverage across different outlets to understand how the same event can be framed differently.

Distinguishing between news and opinion: Editorial pages exist for opinions; news pages should stick to facts. When these boundaries blur, be alert.

Questioning narratives: When coverage suddenly shifts, ask why. What changed? Is this new information or just a new political season?

Looking beyond headlines: The most important information is often buried in the middle paragraphs or not covered at all.

The media will continue to shape our consciousness—that’s unavoidable in a mediated world. But we don’t have to be passive recipients of manufactured narratives. We can be critical, questioning, and thoughtful in how we consume information.

Because ultimately, democracy doesn’t just need a free press—it needs a discerning public that can see beyond the tamasha, beyond the headlines, beyond the color-coordinated promises that change with the political season. Only then can we hold both media and politicians accountable for the reality they claim to represent but often obscure.

The newspaper sits folded beside me now, its bold headlines already feeling less urgent than they did an hour ago. Tomorrow, there will be new headlines, new promises, new manufactured urgencies. But perhaps, with awareness, we can see them for what they are—not the truth, but one version of it, filtered through lenses that may not have our best interests in focus.