Comment
From reporting news to becoming news
The journey from reporting news (as an anchor) to becoming news (if Twitter India trends are to be believed) could be many a journalist’s dream. But Arnab Goswami has traversed the path and reached that point in a short period of time. A decade to be precise. And, it’s certainly an achievement for which Arnab definitely needs a pat on the back — if not for anything else, though that list too is long.
The very fact his resignation — announced by him on Tuesday at an editorial meeting, but the act was actually done over a week back — whipped up media frenzy with social media going on the boil is an indicator that Arnab is a true student of the Steve Jobs school of thinking: damn the status quo. In other words be a disruptor.
If people say that Arnab changed the rules of the news game in India by resorting to in-your-face and being over the top (OTT), it won’t be wrong. If critics opine that he dumbed down viewers and made tabloid journalism mainstream, then they too won’t be off the mark. Simply because, he did both and in an unapologetic fashion. And, Times NOW and the owners of the news venture, who also control India’s biggest unlisted media company spanning print, radio, music and television, gained much in terms of eyeballs, if not revenue. But then how many electronic news ventures in India are profitable business entities?
When people say Arnab and Times NOW changed colours to be popular after the present BJP-led government in New Delhi came to power in 2014, they are wrong. Arnab’s style, which began reflecting in how news was served up for viewers on Times NOW and later on ET NOW (he was made in-charge of both the news channels as President-News and Editor-in-Chief ), started gaining popularity much before the present government came to power.Simply because an increasing number of people wanted some spice. No wonder, Arnab declared with aplomb at a recent media conference in Delhi that the “era of polite (TV) anchors was over” and journalism of reporting news as it is without an opinion was “rubbish” as “facts are sacred but opinion is supreme.”
The US experienced this news-views mish-mash when Rupert Murdoch’s Fox News decided to differentiate itself from legacies like CNN and BBC a few decades back and openly mixed news with views and opinion and even took political sides during elections. Arnab, however, says he’s on the side of the common man — if not on the side of a political thought or belief.
If the likes of Prannoy Roys, Raghav Bahls, Vinod Duas and later the Rajdeep Sardesais, Vikram Chandras, Zaka Jacobs, Barkha Dutts, Sonia Singhs, Ravishs, etc followed the old school of traditional journalism in India, for good or bad, Arnab realised quickly the new age viewer has little understanding of such traditions as they consume video on the go more often than not where attention time span is short. So, in a way, Arnab also quickly learnt that Fox-isation is the way forward to be heard and be popular. Again, to quote, the man himself, one has to shout to be heard in this country.
So, the popular quiz show KBC’s jackpot-winning question today could be: What will be the new venture of Arnab Goswami, if the Jains, owners of Times of India group of which Times NOW is a part, let him go ultimately?If Arnab specialises in understanding the new age viewer-consumer and his style is foxy (the pun is intended), then that’s the type of a product he’d like to be associated with in an entrepreneurial avatar — a product that addresses the digital savvy consumer, is world class, slick and, of course, spicy, sensational and very unlike the legacies.
There would be many funders who would be ready to bet on Arnab at present. And, why not? He’s not only the darling of the masses (at least the English speaking ones), but also the present government.
So if media gossip says, a certain tech-savvy South Indian businessman-turned-Member of Parliament of the Indian Parliament’s Upper House is putting in money in a fresh news venture with Arnab, it’s worthwhileto lend an ear. If you mix Rupert Murdoch and another Delhi-based TV journalist-turned-entrepreneur, then you have a recipe for an exciting dish. Remember, the government liberalised foreign investment norms in TV news ventures and upped the level to 49 per cent from the earlier 26 per cent earlier this year.
Whatever Arnab does in the coming days, the nation would want to know (including a rumoured meeting with a media czar-turned-politician) and therein lies his success formula; his on-screen patronising attitude, love for the two S (spice and sensation) and jingoism notwithstanding.
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.
