By Suresh Unnithan
Buckle up. In the blistering inferno of global tinderboxes—missiles zipping like rogue Thrissur Pooram rockets, oil prices surging wilder than a caparisoned elephant’s trunk after the vedikkettu finale—one might expect India’s media to be our unflinching North Star, slicing through the smoke with scalpel-sharp truth. Dream on! Nah, they’ve hijacked the Iran-US-Israel dumpster fire and twisted it into Modi’s Mahabharata: The Sequel Nobody Asked For. Who needs Hormuz headlines when you’ve got studio scream-fests? Anchors here aren’t decoding doom; they’re directing it, sweating bullets under halogens hotter than a Punalur summer scorcher, all while turning Tehran’s tantrums into Twitter-fodder for the next electoral lowdown.
The Modi-BJP cheerleading squad—those valiant souls at channels whose logos look suspiciously like trishuls dipped in payasam syrup—has thrown its full-throated support behind Uncle Sam and Bibi Netanyahu. Why? Because, darling, the Prime Minister himself dropped a casual “Israel is our bro” tweet faster than you can say “strategic partnership.” Suddenly, every panel discussion is a love letter to the Iron Dome. “See how Israel’s precision strikes mirror Modi ji’s surgical strikes on terror?” gushes the anchor, eyes gleaming like a kid who just found extra mithai in his Deepavali hamper. Analysts, handpicked from WhatsApp university’s advanced diplomacy course, nod vigorously: “Iran? Those Ayatollahs are just jealous of our Ram Temple! And the US? They love our yoga—er, I mean, our QUAD vibes.”
Exaggeration? Hardly. One prime-time debate last week featured a retired Fauji thundering that Iran’s drone attacks on Gulf bases were “a direct assault on Hindu civilization,” because—get this—some ancient Vedic text vaguely mentioned “flying chariots from the west.” Cut to graphics: A split-screen of Modi hugging Netanyahu superimposed over a lotus blooming in the ruins of Babylon. Sponsorship messages interrupt only to peddle “Patriotic Protein Shakes—Fuel Your Inner Warrior Against Axis of Evil Imports!” It’s not coverage; it’s cosplay. These folks aren’t reporting the war; they’re auditioning for it, turning every Hezbollah hot take into a poll booster. If Modi announced support for the Moon landing tomorrow, you’d see headlines: “Chandrayaan 3: Israel’s Secret Mossad Tech? BJP Says Yes!”
Flip the channel—literally, to the “secular” spectrum—and oh, what a plot twist! The anti-Modi media mafia, those guardians of the “idea of India” (as long as it doesn’t involve GST refunds), has pivoted harder than a rickshaw in Chandni Chowk traffic. Iran isn’t just a player here; it’s the underdog hero of their narrative, a plucky David slinging stones at the Goliath of imperialism. “Look at those brave Iranian missiles lighting up US bases!” beams the primetime prophet, voice dripping with the righteous fury of a man who’s just discovered quinoa. Wide-angle shots of Tehran’s retaliatory fireworks get more airtime than a Kumbh Mela stampede, complete with soulful BGM from AR Rahman’s rejected tracks.
Why the Iran infatuation? Simple: Modi backs Israel, so they back the ayatollahs. It’s not about foreign policy nuance—no, siree. It’s payback. “While BJP sells India’s soul to Zionist lobbyists,” intones the expert (a tweed-jacketed academic who once tweeted #JusticeForJNU), “Iran stands for the oppressed! Remember how they boycotted that Israeli film festival? That’s solidarity!” Cue the outrage montage: Clips of US carrier groups edited to look like they’re steaming toward Wagah Border, overlaid with captions like “Modi’s Masters Strike Back.” And don’t get me started on the “Gulf Diaspora Alert” segments, where NRIs in Dubai are grilled: “Are you safe from BJP’s proxy warmongers?” One hapless UAE-based accountant, mid-bite of shawarma, stammers, “I just want cheaper petrol,” only for the anchor to pivot: “See? Even expats know Iran’s pain is our pain!”
Our media isn’t divided by ideology; it’s divided by I&B Ministry coffee breaks. One side sees every F-35 flyover as a Viksit Bharat endorsement; the other views every IRGC speedboat as a metaphor for “people’s resistance” against Adani ports. Lost in this crossfire? Actual journalism. Facts? Those are for amateurs. Balance? As passé as Doordarshan reruns. Instead, we get TRP wars where viewer ratings spike not on casualty counts but on how many times “genocide” or “genius strike” gets hashtagged.
Picture this: A hypothetical summit where Iranian drones and Israeli interceptors pause mid-air for a Tata Tea break, only to be upstaged by our anchors duking it out in a “Who Loves Their PM More?” cage match. The real casualty? Us, the viewers, force-fed this farce while the world burns. Iran fires at US bases? BJP media: “Modi’s deterrence works!” Opposition outlets: “It’s blowback from hugging Tel Aviv!” Meanwhile, in Kerala’s backwaters or Kollam’s quiet streets, folks like you and me just want to know if onion prices will rocket higher than those Tomahawks.
So here’s the kicker, dear reader: In this great Indian media war, nobody wins. The only victors are the ad breaks hawking fairness creams for “battle-hardened” skin. Time to switch off, shall we? Or better yet, start our own channel: News from Narnia—where biases are slayed by lions, and the only proxy is for your VPN. Until then, pass the popcorn; the next episode’s bound to be a riot.