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By:

Nilanjana Das

13 December 2025 at 2:23:37 pm

Creator Economy: Influence, Opportunity and Risk

Social media has the power to make or break an issue—and increasingly, it shapes how we think, shop and respond. The frenzy surrounding content creators has swept across the Indian digital ecosystem. Alongside this surge has come an ever-growing audience of consumers who absorb a constant stream of information, often without questioning its credibility or filtering what they consume. Immersed in an endless flow of content, many lose track of both time and context, consuming information...

Creator Economy: Influence, Opportunity and Risk

Social media has the power to make or break an issue—and increasingly, it shapes how we think, shop and respond. The frenzy surrounding content creators has swept across the Indian digital ecosystem. Alongside this surge has come an ever-growing audience of consumers who absorb a constant stream of information, often without questioning its credibility or filtering what they consume. Immersed in an endless flow of content, many lose track of both time and context, consuming information seamlessly and often unconsciously across platforms. We cannot escape the reality that social media has the power to make or break an issue. Much of our daily lives is increasingly shaped by the content we consume online, influencing everything from public opinion and purchasing decisions to cultural trends and political discourse. India's creator economy is experiencing unprecedented growth, evolving from a niche community of YouTubers and bloggers into a multi-billion-dollar ecosystem spanning sectors such as finance, gaming, beauty, food, fitness, travel, and entertainment. Driven by a young, digitally connected population and widespread access to affordable internet, creators have emerged as influential voices that shape consumer behaviour, often rivalling—or even surpassing—the impact of traditional advertising channels. Consequently, influencer partnerships have evolved from experimental marketing initiatives into a core pillar of brand strategy, delivering measurable business outcomes, stronger audience engagement, and impressive returns on investment. In today's highly competitive attention economy, content has emerged as one of the most valuable digital assets. Audiences are increasingly gravitating towards short-form, engaging videos that deliver information, entertainment, and opinions within seconds, prompting social media platforms to continuously evolve and adapt their offerings. Creators who can capture attention instantly and retain audience engagement hold immense value for brands seeking to connect with highly targeted audiences at scale. As consumers spend more time on digital platforms, authentic and relatable creator-led content often generates greater trust and engagement than conventional advertising. This transformation has positioned creator-led influence as one of the most impactful and effective forces shaping marketing strategies, consumer behaviour, and purchasing decisions in India today. The market for content creators is booming in India, with around 60 per cent of creators coming from Tier-2, Tier-3, and Tier-4 cities, highlighting the growing importance of regional and vernacular content. India's creator economy has evolved into a vast digital ecosystem with over 100 million creators, including approximately 2.5–4.4 million active digital creators who have more than 1,000 followers. Although it is a multi-billion-dollar industry, earnings remain concentrated among a small percentage of creators, making monetisation highly unequal. Creators can broadly be divided into three categories: active creators, nano creators, and micro creators. However, only 8–10 per cent of active creators earn a sustainable living from content creation. Most nano and micro creators earn about Rs 15,000–18,000 per month, often treating content creation as a side income. Macro creators can earn anywhere between Rs 50,000 and Rs 5 lakh or more per sponsored post, mainly through brand partnerships. Many creators are also moving beyond brand deals by registering businesses and launching their own products, reducing their dependence on sponsorships. The recent incident in which a content creator revealed her gold collection online eventually led to a theft at her residence. Madhya Pradesh YouTuber Rachna Gurjar was robbed of gold, silver, and cash worth Rs 8–10 lakh after frequently showcasing her jewellery on social media. Burglars reportedly used her videos to study the layout of the house before carrying out the crime. They disabled the CCTV cameras, locked the family in a room, and executed the heist. Social media is not always a safe space, and information shared online can easily be exploited by criminals. As the creator economy continues to grow, creators must exercise greater restraint in what they share, while consumers must apply critical thinking rather than scroll mindlessly. (The writer is a media professional and a Research Associate with IIM, Shilong. Views personal.)

The Soul of Bharat on the Big Screen

Mumbai: April 4, 2025, my heart feels heavier than it ever has. The news hit me like a monsoon storm—Manoj Kumar, the towering legend of Bollywood, the man who painted patriotism across our screens, is no more. At 87, he slipped away at Mumbai’s Kokilaben Dhirubhai Ambani Hospital, leaving behind a reel of memories that flicker in my mind like a projector that won’t stop spinning. As a movie fan who grew up with his films, I’m not just mourning an actor—I’m grieving the loss of a piece of my soul, a piece of India itself. They called him "Bharat Kumar," and oh, how he earned that name.


I remember the first time I saw ‘Upkar’ (1967). I was a kid, sprawled on the living room floor, eyes glued to our old TV. Manoj ji played Bharat, the farmer who gave everything—his dreams, his love—for his country’s soil. That song, “Mere Desh Ki Dharti,” wasn’t just a tune; it was a heartbeat, pulsing with pride and sacrifice. I’d hum it walking to school, feeling like I, too, could be that noble, that selfless. He won a National Film Award for that one, and rightly so—it wasn’t acting; it was living.

Then there was ‘Shaheed’ (1965), where he brought Bhagat Singh back to life. I’d sit there, popcorn forgotten, as he roared defiance against the British, his eyes blazing with a fire that could’ve lit up the darkest colonial night. It wasn’t just a film—it was a revolution on celluloid, a call to remember the blood that bought our freedom. Manoj ji didn’t just play the martyr; he became him, and every time I watch it, I feel that lump in my throat, that sting in my eyes. It’s no wonder it snagged three National Awards—his passion was a gift to us all.


Oh, and ‘Purab Aur Paschim’ (1970)—how do I even begin? He directed and starred as Bharat again, this time wrestling with the clash of East and West, showing us the beauty of our roots while the world tried to pull us away. I’d laugh at Saira Banu’s antics, then choke up when Manoj ji stood tall, singing “Hai Preet Jahan Ki Reet Sada.” It was a blockbuster, sure, but it was more—it was a love letter to India, penned in his signature hand-over-face style. That move, mocked by some, was his shield, his quiet strength, and I adored it.

And who could forget ‘Roti Kapda Aur Makaan’ (1974)? He directed and starred as Bharat—again, because who else could?—tackling poverty, injustice, and the gut-wrenching struggle for the basics of life. I’d watch, fists clenched, as he fought for the everyman, his voice cracking with raw emotion. It wasn’t just a movie; it was a mirror to our society, a cry for change. Seven Filmfare Awards across his career, they say, but this one felt like it carried them all—his heart bled through every frame.


Then there’s ‘Kranti’ (1981), the epic that had me on the edge of my seat. Manoj ji as the freedom fighter, leading Dilip Kumar and Hema Malini through a storm of rebellion—it was grand, it was gritty, it was everything Bollywood could be. “Zindagi Ki Na Toote Ladi” still echoes in my ears, a reminder of the battles he fought on screen, battles that felt so real I’d dream of joining the fight. He didn’t just direct that film; he sculpted a monument to resilience, and I’d cheer like a fool every time he outsmarted the British.


As I sit here, flipping through these memories, I can’t help but feel cheated. Manoj Kumar wasn’t just an actor or director—he was family. Born Harikrishan Goswami in 1937, he carried the Partition’s scars from Abbottabad to Delhi, turning pain into purpose. He gave us over 50 films in a career spanning four decades, snagging the Padma Shri in 1992 and the Dadasaheb Phalke Award in 2015—honors that felt too small for a man who gave India its cinematic soul. His last role in ‘Jai Hind’ (1999) might’ve flopped, but it didn’t dim his light in my eyes.


I’d read how he met Bhagat Singh’s mother before ‘Shaheed’, seeking her blessing—can you imagine the weight of that? Or how PM Lal Bahadur Shastri urged him to make ‘Upkar’ after the 1965 war, handing him “Jai Jawan Jai Kisan” like a sacred torch? That’s who he was—a man who didn’t just entertain but carried a nation’s dreams.


Manoj ji, you weren’t just “Bharat Kumar” to me—you were the uncle who taught me pride, the friend who shared my anger, the poet who sang my hopes. Your films weren’t movies; they were my childhood, my rebellion, my tears. I’ll miss you like I miss the India you dreamed of—flawed, fierce, and forever ours. Rest in peace, sir. Om Shanti.

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