Wednesday’s are usually crazy.
We either have lots of work to do, or the day is just spent, wondering why good stories are so hard to come by and how we could possibly fill pages with stories.
Today, I reached office a little earlier than I should. By that I mean two minutes before my shift started. The office was empty. I looked at my watch (that still showed the time in India. Sigh) and I realised that the team would slowly fill.
Soon the silence would be replaced by the constant, tak tak of copies being thrashed out. The sound of papers shuffling, the odd beep of the printer and the weird synchronised sounds that the telephones make after every hour.
Work is good, but there are some hopeless days.
Zero ideas, nobody’s doing anything worthwhile to be covered, no crazy stunts, no fires that were put out, no drugs that were being smuggled. Nothing. Nothing at all.
That pretty much spells doom, especially if you’re working for a newspaper.
That’s when everyone starts worrying. Checking our phones from time to time, frantically searching for any bit of information that could become a story and basically just losing our minds.
We’ve sometimes started our days with no stories, but irrespective of how terrible our production day has been, we always come out with an edition with stories that are good.
It’s been one such a crazy day today.
But, I’m home right now, tucked into my warm bed.
And then it dawns on me, life is pretty much the same.
We might not have our stories ready for today, why, we might not seem to have a story at all.
We panic and worry.
But eventually, even if it means pushing the deadline,
It all falls into place.
Like it always has.