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TRAI’s toothless content aggregator regulations
The Telecom Regulaotry Auhtority of India (TRAI) was right in both identifying and bringing in new regulation in an attempt to curb content aggregator aggression (read: broadcaster aggression). However, the restrictions are very minimal and on the face of it, they don’t seem to have too much teeth. Aggregators can get renamed as Agents but will TRAI’s effort at redoing and notifying regulations for them really act as an agent of change?
There is no restriction on the ownership of agent companies or how many broadcasters they can represent. (Will need to be addressed in issue of cross media.) Broadcasters belonging to the same group can bundle channels. For the immediate future it is more likely to lead to a futile exercise in splitting existing contracts and and overtime and consulting fees for the guys in black suits (read: lawyers).
Already agreed terms including carrying weak channels and desired packages are the tradeoffs by which the DPOs negotiate to their advantage, so contrary to TRAI’s belief that they add to unwanted costs, they actually subsidize the DPOs costs – whether for carriage, packaging or for a preferred LCN.
Restricting multi-broadcaster packages is not important. What is important are the DPO’s packages which are what subscribers eventually subscribe to. As mentioned, these are negotiation tradeoffs.
In any case most of the channel pricing and bouquets evolved arbitrarily at a time when there were already existing TRAI restrictions on a-la-carte, bouquets, price freeze on existing channels etc and very often broadcasters introduced highly priced new channels to offset the freeze on existing channels pricing. Even internal allocations between various broadcasters within an aggregator skewed rationale on pricing.
The new regulations have not addressed many potent issues which have been plaguing the business and continue to beg solutions. For starters, let us understand that the entity signing the RIO is of little consequence to the consumer. Where are the guidelines for DPOs to price to consumers? Should the retail pricing be determined by the DPO or Broadcaster and who should communicate this to the consumer? Same goes for the packages. Is the DPO the real content aggregator buying in wholesale and then retailing to consumers or is he merely offering his delivery infrastructure and payment gateway for a commission? What is the business model TRAI envisages? Is it going to continue as a B2B or should there be complete transparency to consumer in a B2C approach?
Third party channels within aggregator/agent will be most likely impacted. The Stars and Zees are big enough bouquets by themselves, same goes for the TV18/Viacom18 group channels. (Presuming 50 per cent ownership qualifies to label a broadcaster a Group Company!). Yes, Sony and Discovery channels on paper need to be split but their distribution venture has survived many long years and they can resolve any internal issues without upsetting present equations.
The onus is now on the various DPOs – whether DTH or MSO – to leverage the only real advantage and actually negotiate separately for each of the various broadcasters’ bouquets. Some positive effect of this is likely but it would take a while for the dynamics of negotiations to change. For now it will more likely be just a paper tiger.
All of this makes sense only if the end objective of DAS is achieved: which is individual consumer choice and billing. For now it seems to be stuck in a farcical CAF exercise. No one has really asked the consumer if he is happy paying his 150-200 bucks (ARPU) and wants to continue having his unlimited thali and buffet! And if one were to do the maths on this basis for current pay TV homes and allocate say 40 per cent to content- well, everyone’s happy!
(The author is a media observor and consultant, and the views expressed are his own.)
MUMBAI: 2025 will be remembered as the year India’s OTT industry stopped chasing scale for its own sake and began reckoning with how audiences actually consume content. Completion rates fell, patience wore thin and the limits of long-form excess became impossible to ignore. In this guest column, Pratap Jain, founder and CEO of ChanaJor, traces how micro-drama moved from the fringes to the centre of viewing behaviour, why short-form fiction emerged as a retention engine rather than a trend, and how platforms that respected time, habit and emotional payoff were the ones that truly grew up in 2025.
If there is one thing 2025 will be remembered for in the Indian OTT industry, it’s this: the industry finally stopped pretending.
Stopped pretending that bigger automatically meant better.
Stopped pretending that viewers had endless time.
Stopped pretending that scale without retention was success.
What began as a quiet reset in 2023 and a cautious correction in 2024 turned into a very visible shift in 2025. Business models matured. Content strategies tightened. And most importantly, platforms started aligning themselves with how Indians actually watch content, not how the industry wished they would.
At the centre of this shift was micro-drama—not as a trend, but as a behavioural inevitability.
When OTT finally understood the time problem
For years, long episodes were treated as a marker of seriousness. A 45–60 minute runtime was almost a badge of credibility. Shorter formats were pushed to the margins, labelled as “snack content” or “mobile-only.”
That belief quietly collapsed in 2025.
What platform data showed very clearly was not a drop in interest—but a drop in patience. Viewers weren’t rejecting stories. They were rejecting commitment.
Across platforms, the same patterns appeared:
* First-episode drop-offs on long-form shows kept increasing
* Completion rates continued to slide
* Viewers were sampling more titles but finishing fewer
At the same time, shows with episodes in the six to 10 minute range started showing the opposite behaviour: higher completion, higher repeat viewing, and stronger daily habit formation.
Micro-drama didn’t win because it was short. It won because it respected time.
Micro-Drama didn’t arrive loudly. It took over quietly.
There was no single moment when micro-drama “launched” in India. It crept in through dashboards and retention charts.
By mid-2025, it was clear that viewers were happy watching four, five, sometimes six short episodes in one sitting—even when they wouldn’t finish a single long episode. Romance, relationship drama, slice-of-life conflict, and grounded comedy worked especially well.
This wasn’t disposable content. It was compressed storytelling.
In shorter formats, there was no room for indulgence. Every episode had to move the story forward. Weak writing was punished faster. Strong writing was rewarded immediately.
Micro-drama raised the bar instead of lowering it.
Where ChanaJor naturally fit into this shift
ChanaJor didn’t pivot to micro-drama in 2025 because the market demanded it. In many ways, the platform was already built around the same viewing behaviour.
From the beginning, ChanaJor focused on short-to-mid-length fictional stories that felt close to everyday Indian life—hostels, rented flats, office romances, small-town relationships, young people figuring things out. Stories that didn’t need heavy context or cinematic scale to connect.
What worked in ChanaJor’s favour in 2025 was clarity:
* A clearly defined audience
* Tight episode lengths
* Storytelling that prioritised emotion and pace over spectacle
While several platforms rushed to copy global micro-drama formats, ChanaJor stayed rooted in familiar Indian settings and conflicts. That familiarity mattered. Viewers didn’t have to “enter” the world of the show—it already felt like theirs.
Why audiences started responding differently
One of the biggest misconceptions going into 2025 was that audiences wanted shorter content because their attention spans had reduced. That wasn’t entirely true.
What viewers actually wanted was meaningful payoff per minute.
On platforms like ChanaJor, episodes didn’t waste time setting the mood for ten minutes. Conflicts arrived early. Characters were recognisable within moments. Emotional hooks landed fast.
A typical consumption pattern looked like real life:
* One episode during a break
* Two more before sleeping
* A few the next day
This is how viewing habits are built—not through marketing spends, but through comfort and consistency.
Viewers came back not because every show was a blockbuster, but because they knew what kind of experience to expect.
2025 was also the year OTT faced business reality
The other big change in 2025 was on the business side. Subscriber growth slowed. Discounts stopped hiding churn. Customer acquisition costs rose.
Platforms were forced to ask harder questions:
* Are viewers finishing what they start?
* Are they returning without reminders?
* Is this content worth what we’re spending on it?
This is where micro-drama began outperforming expectations. A well-written short series could deliver sustained engagement without massive budgets. It didn’t peak for one weekend and disappear—it stayed alive through repeat viewing.
Platforms like ChanaJor benefited because they weren’t chasing inflated launch numbers. The focus was on consistency and retention, not noise.
Failures Became Visible Faster
2025 also exposed weaknesses brutally.
Several platforms assumed micro-drama was a shortcut—short episodes, quick shoots, instant traction. What they discovered was that bad writing fails faster in short formats than in long ones.
Viewers dropped off within minutes. Episodes were abandoned mid-way. Weak stories had nowhere to hide.
Micro-drama didn’t forgive laziness. It amplified it.
The platforms that survived were the ones that treated short storytelling with the same seriousness as long-form—sometimes more.
OTT Stopped Chasing Prestige and Started Chasing Habit
Perhaps the most important shift in 2025 wasn’t technical or creative—it was psychological.
OTT stopped trying to look like cinema. It stopped chasing validation through scale and awards alone. It began behaving like what it actually is in people’s lives: a daily companion.
Platforms like ChanaJor found their space here because that mindset was already baked in. The goal wasn’t to dominate a weekend launch. It was to quietly become part of someone’s everyday viewing routine.
That shift changed everything—from release strategies to how success was measured.
What 2025 Ultimately Taught the Industry
By the end of the year, three truths were impossible to ignore:
* Time is the most valuable thing a viewer gives you
* Retention matters more than reach
* Format must follow behaviour, not ego
Micro-drama didn’t take over because it was fashionable. It took over because it fit real life.
Looking Ahead
Micro-drama is not replacing long-form storytelling. It is redefining the baseline of engagement.
Longer shows will survive—but only when they earn their length. Short-form fiction will continue to evolve, becoming sharper, more emotionally confident, and better written.
Platforms like ChanaJor have shown that it’s possible to grow without shouting—by understanding the audience, respecting their time, and telling stories that feel real.
2025 wasn’t the year OTT became smaller. It was the year it became smarter.
Note: The views expressed in this article are solely the author’s and do not necessarily reflect our own.
