What's Up With Nagalish Talk Shows ?

Of late, there has been a growth of Nagalish Talk Shows, thanks to the YouTube. The host uses either Nagamese or English to communicate depending upon the comfort of the guest. Hence, I am using the term, 'Nagalish'. 

What makes a Talk Show successful? Well,  it depends on the personality of the Host and the relevance of the Guest. Topics which are interesting, discussions which are beneficial, accusations which are scandalous, confessions which are sensational, make the Talk Show run up for a next season.

However, when it comes to Nagalish Talk Shows, I wonder why some of the hosts lack the basic etiquettes of showing patience and being a good listener. Many will agree with me on this point. There are some hosts who show great urgency to wrap up the episode as soon as possible. And then there are hosts who interrupt the flow of conversation by using the interrogative word, what? what? what? instead of, I beg your pardon or could you repeat it, please. Some hosts think it's okay to clear the throat and sniff even when the mic is on. Some node their heads too much and in the height of un-professionalism, some end up checking their phone or that piece of paper to proceed to the next question. It is always better to memorise the questions beforehand or to ask questions based on the preceding answer.

These are my observations and in no ways convey negativity, as I believe there is always a room for improvement. I like watching The Lungleng Show, the host is really polished giving me the vibes of young Karan Thappar. Anyway, kindly let me know in the comment section of what you think about the Nagalish Talk Shows. 

Not a Tale of Green Hills

 

Dimapur! My Dimapur!

Not on the hills, you lay,

Humid nights, dusty summer days.

Rainy days and floating paper cranes,

Dirty garbage and smoky lane.

Traffic jam like a snake’s charm,

Boozed out tongue meant no harm.

Broken glasses and bamboo huts,

No one laments of the thousand cuts.

Grand new buildings and posh cars,

Poor lady’s hopes in a jar.

Immigrants singing the same old song,

Cup of tea keeps them strong.

 

Rock! Paper! Scissors! The unemployed youth sighs,

The dragon has left its dungeon, medical bills on high.

If there a ground then let there be a game,

Imagining life won’t be this lame.

 

Poisonous mushrooms too grow,

Death may come thrice in a row.

Panics sometimes fill the city,

Poor beggar wants no pity.

 

Sky can be blue, sky can be pink,

We need more denizens who think.

We are rubble yet living under a bubble,

May we see our future is in trouble.