Uncovering the Invisible History of Indian Journalism

For more than seven decades, the Press Trust of India (PTI) has been the silent engine driving Indian journalism, delivering news with speed, accuracy and credibility across the nation. Yet, the stories behind the stories, the human drama inside newsrooms and the relentless effort that transforms events into headlines have largely remained invisible. 'What They Don’t Teach You in Journalism Schools' lifts that veil, offering a rare and compelling journey into the inner workings of India’s most influential news agency.

Edited by Sameer C. Mohindru, the book is not merely a collection of anecdotes, it is a carefully curated archive of lived experiences. Through first-hand accounts from PTI reporters, editors and desk professionals, it reconstructs some of the most defining moments in modern Indian history—wars, political upheavals, assassinations, diplomatic crises and social transformations. Each narrative is grounded in rigorous fact-checking and enriched with context, making the book both historically valuable and narratively engaging.

What distinguishes this work from conventional journalism memoirs is its focus on the invisible labour of newsmaking. The book captures the intensity of high-pressure moments when seconds matter, decisions are irreversible, and the stakes are national. Readers are drawn into the nerve centres of journalism, where reporters race against time, editors weigh words with precision, and technical teams ensure that information travels seamlessly across vast distances. These behind-the-scenes episodes reveal journalism not as a glamorous profession, but as a demanding craft built on discipline, judgment, and resilience.

Equally significant is the book’s tribute to PTI’s unsung heroes—the engineers, technicians, desk editors and field reporters who have sustained the agency’s reputation over decades. Many of them operated in anonymity, signing off with initials rather than names, embodying a culture where institutional credibility mattered more than individual fame. In an era increasingly dominated by personal branding and instant opinions, these stories serve as a powerful reminder of journalism’s foundational values: objectivity, accuracy, and public service.

The foreword by former Jammu and Kashmir Governor N. N. Vohra reinforces the book’s importance, describing it as a commendable effort to preserve the legacy of PTI’s veterans. His reflections underscore how the agency’s work intersected with the corridors of power—Prime Ministers, diplomats, security establishments, and policymakers—offering readers a nuanced understanding of how news and governance often converge behind closed doors.

Beyond its historical and professional significance, the book also functions as an informal textbook for aspiring journalists. It exposes the gap between what journalism schools teach and what the profession actually demands. The title itself is a subtle critique of academic training, suggesting that the true lessons of journalism are learned not in classrooms, but in newsrooms and on the field. For students of media, the book offers practical insights into ethics, decision-making, teamwork, and the pressures of real-time reporting.

At a broader level, 'What They Don’t Teach You in Journalism Schools' is also a reflection on the evolution of Indian media. As news consumption shifts towards digital platforms and algorithms, the book invites readers to reconsider the enduring relevance of institutional journalism. It reminds us that credible news is not an accident, but the outcome of painstaking processes and collective effort.

Engaging, informative and deeply reflective, this book is more than a tribute to PTI—it is a chronicle of Indian journalism itself. Whether one is a practicing journalist, a student of media, a historian or simply a reader curious about how news is made, this volume offers rare insights and enduring lessons. In preserving the voices of those who shaped India’s news narrative from behind the scenes, the book performs an invaluable service—not just to journalism, but to history.