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It was Modi vs. the rest in Maharashtra: Nikhil Wagle
My 10 takeaways from Maharashta Assembly election:
1) The just concluded 2014 Assembly Elections in Maharashtra will go down as a historic development in the state’s politics, which has the potential to transform the face of Maharashtra. For the first time, a non-Congress party has reached a near majority. Since the inception of Maharashtra, BJP had never managed to reach the three-digit figure. Their highest number was 65 in 1995 when they formed the government with the help of their elder brother, Shiv Sena. But this time around, with 123 seats, BJP has inspired a tectonic change.
2) The anger against the 15 years regime of Congress and NCP was palpable among the electorate. Serious corruption charges were labeled against the government, which they were unable to refute. Voters desperately wanted a change. The alternative was offered not by BJP, but by Prime Minister Narendra Modi whose impact was experienced during the Lok Sabha elections. Modi filled the credibility vacuum created by local leaders like Sharad Pawar, Prithviraj Chavan, Ajit Pawar and so on. Voters believed in Modi and decided to give him a chance. This is not a verdict for BJP, but Modi. It was Modi verses the rest.
3) In spite of Modi’s popularity, BJP could not reach the magic figure of 144 in the assembly of 288 members. BJP’s national president Amit Shah tried his best with his electoral arithmetic. But Shiv Sena was able to stop them in regions like Kokan. In Vidarbha, BJP won 44 out of 62 seats. It is a big achievement, but the expectations were higher. The last minute decision of dropping the demand of separate Vidarbha from their manifesto could have damaged BJP here. In north Maharashta too, BJP could not live up to the expectations due to their weak party machinery. The lack of credible indigenous leaders and fragile cadres at remote places are the reasons behind BJP not crossing the halfway mark.
4) Political pundits are blaming Uddhav Thackeray for Shiv Sena’s debacle. But I don’t agree with them. In fact, this is the best performance of Shivsena after 1995 when they got 70 seats. This time around, they were able to win 63 in spite of Modi onslaught. Many thought that Shivsena would be swallowed by the Modi-juggernaut but it did not only survive the storm but came out with their self respect intact. Credit goes to aggressive campaigning by Uddhav and grassroot machinery of party.
5) Was it development verses Marathi pride, where the emotional issue took a back seat? I again disagree. Development was never ever a focus in this campaign. It was about clean and trustworthy leadership, where Modi won the battle. But along with this, the issue of Marathi pride helped Shivsena to protect their strongholds in Mumbai, Thane and Kokan. In fact, they totally snatched this plank from Raj Thackeray’s MNS.
6) As far as MNS is concerned, this election has been a big blow to them. Raj is more charismatic than Uddhav. His oratory skills are as good as his uncle. But elections are never conquered on charisma. Due to wrong policies and frivolous politics, Raj has reached this stage. He started well in 2006, but was not able to build the party. In 2009 assembly elections, he had 13 MLAs, now he is decimated to just one. It is time for him to introspect.
7) Raj should introspect but if there is anyone who needs utmost introspection, it is Congress and NCP. They have reached their lowest ever number in assembly elections. Congress is a house divided and NCP is totally engrossed in their politics of money and muscle power.
By declaring unconditional support to BJP, Sharad Pawar once again proved his ‘Pawar Power’, which a common voter will only perceive as shameless opportunistic politics.
8) This election could possibly write another chapter in the history of criminalisation of politics in Maharashtra. 165 of 288 newly elected MLAs have serious criminal charges against them and most of them are crorepatis.
9) The participation of women candidates has been disappointing. Only 20 women candidates will be seen in the assembly, which is 7 per cent of the total assembly strength of 288. One wonders if it is still appropriate to call Maharashtra a progressive state.
10) This election will also mark a black chapter for media, which witnessed unprecedented ‘Paid News’. In spite of the monitoring by the Election Commission, nobody could nail this cancer. Political parties sniffed the opportunity and took maximum advantage of the situation. It has set a dangerous precedent and the credibility of the media suffered like never before.
(These are purely personal views of Mi Marathi consultant and veteran journalist, Nikhil Wagle and indiantelevision.com does not subscribe to these views.)
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.
