A Day in the Life of Kamala Thiagarajan

What I’m working on:

I’m fairly obsessed with everything I write, and I usually juggle five to six articles at a time. In recent years however, I have been drawn back to one bigger story that I’ve found myself reporting on frequently—snakebite in India. I know exactly when that obsession started too. A few years ago, I was at a public hospital to interview some women. The town where I live connects to a lot of rural villages, and so it’s not uncommon to see public hospitals here filled with rural folk. I always think of it as a true slice of India. Out of the blue, I heard shrieks around me, and then crowds parted like the Red Sea. That’s when I saw him. One man, carrying a long dead snake in his hand, had come in for treatment after he’d been bitten in a paddy field. He’d killed the snake, casually slung it over his shoulder, and brought it over for his doctor to take a look at. He clearly didn’t understand what the fuss was about and why the medical staff and patients were freaking out over a dead snake. It set my mind whirling that day—do doctors really need to know which snake bit someone in order to treat them? Or is antivenin effective for all snakebites? What happens when snakes slither into homes? This led to a series of articles that explored the nature of snakes and snakebite in India, the people who are vulnerable to it, and the science of treating it. I was stunned to learn that a small group of talented tribal people      milk snakes, providing the raw material to make most of India’s actionable antivenin. On that journey, I’ve spoken to many incredible people—snake lovers, toxicologists researching antivenin, herpetologists, wildlife conservationists protecting snakes from poachers. Every report on snakebite teaches me not just about snakes but also the people whose lives are intertwined with them. This year, again, I’ve worked on another snakebite article, which should be out in May!

Writers who are new to the field often struggle to tell the difference between topics and an actual idea. Well, the answer to that would be to just connect with the right sources. If you think of a topic like a block of stone, then your sources will help you chip away at it until a brilliant statue somehow surfaces. That’s what I’ve done with my obsession. Snakebite is a topic, but the people I’ve connected with help me see the urgent underlying ideas that could appeal to my editors.

Where I work: I work (and live) in a small town called Madurai, in the southern Indian state of Tamil Nadu. It’s far away from the nerve centers of Indian journalism—the bigger cities of Delhi, Mumbai, Bengaluru. Madurai has a lot going for it, but it’s still a small town. Someone told me once that I could never make it as a journalist here, that I would be destroying my own career if I moved. I’m glad I never believed it—not all advice that people dole out is worth listening to. Most life in India is lived in its rural villages, and I have spent two joyful decades chronicling that life. Whenever the global reports I make begin with “Madurai, India,” it’s my small way of celebrating diversity in the news.

As for my workspace, I’ve worked out of just about everywhere in my home over the years—the table, the living room, a coffee nook, the bed. Recently, I fashioned a study out of what used to be my kids’ nursery and I invested in a portable foam desk, that I think of as a kind of a shape-shifter. It can pair well with the big comfy armchair I have here, and if I want a change, it allows me to work comfortably from my bed too.

When I decided to use the old nursery as a work space, I couldn’t bring myself to change the wallpaper. I realized that I’m very nostalgic about it. I loved the moments I spent with my kids here when they were growing up, and I felt like it just made me happy, so I didn’t attempt to re-decorate to make it look “professional” in any sense. My reasoning is that I have to be professional in my actions, but the space around me hardly needs to conform to that. It’s enough if it appeals to me. I do a lot of interviews over zoom here, and I do usually block out the background. But one day, that backfired. My interviewee that day was an adoptee, who now lives in another country far away from her homeland. We were to discuss difficult subjects like racism, how she felt while meeting her birth family, the DNA tests she had to take, how she sometimes feels like she never belongs anywhere. Emotionally, it wasn’t an easy interview to navigate, but just as we were about to begin, her eyes widened like saucers and she burst out laughing. Then she said, “You look like you’re stuck in traffic, but I love it.” It took me a second to realize that somehow, my background block didn’t work. She could see the nursery wallpaper. Double-decker buses, taxis, trucks, scooters, and minivans were now zooming in a frenzy all over my head. It must have looked hilarious! I burst out laughing too, and it really helped break the ice. We had a great chat. That day taught me that it’s fine to be human and that makes us more relatable, no matter what profession we’re in. I like that my workspace reflects that. For a real professional workspace, I refer people to my website.

Daily routine: I begin my day with reading at least four newspapers every morning. India still loves its print newspapers. There have been upheavals in the print industry like everywhere else, but little has changed in terms of demand—a physical newspaper still rules. I also hop online and read The New York Times, NPR, The Economist, Nikkei Asia, South China Morning Post. I try as much as possible to understand the news cycle so I can figure out how my work can connect with it, so reading is a very important part of my day. The rest of my morning is devoted to finding ideas, pitching my editors. After lunch, I take a break. It’s the usual time when my energy flags. I’ve found that this is the case with many people in Indian offices as well.

So on some days, I use that time to connect with potential sources, just to chat. For instance, if there’s an NGO I’ve been meaning to visit or profile, it helps to make inquiries at this point. Around noon to 3:00 p.m., everything slows down in India. Maybe it’s the heat. People tend to be less busy than in the early mornings and evenings and more inclined to conversation. I’ve found such chats invaluable. I try to get my workout in during early evenings, from 5:00 to 7:00. I alternate between jogging and weight training, but there are days I slack off! I aim to be more consistent this year. My interviewees and editors in the U.S. tend to be active post 7:00 p.m. for me, so I get a lot of work done between 7:00 and 11:00 p.m., whether that’s editing, writing, or doing interviews. If I’m editing, or have a pressing deadline, I can work well into the wee hours of the morning.

I do a lot of ground reporting too, so on many days, there’s some travel and my work is all outdoors. I don’t keep to any particular schedule on these days. I love just walking around neighborhoods, chatting with people, and exploring on my own.

Most productive part of my day: Usually, that’s mid-mornings and late nights, when I feel more energetic, so that’s the time I send out my pitches or actually write out my articles. I try not to work when my energy flags, and I certainly don’t work in nine-to-five stretches. I don’t believe that freelance work can or should be fit into that rigid schedule of an office work day.

Most essential ritual or habit: I need to have a basket of fresh fruit close at hand, because I find it’s healthier to snack on seasonal fruit through the day rather than drink copious amounts of coffee. After a super tough or busy week, I get myself an ice-cream cone—my favorite is caramel coffee with assorted nuts. I eat it in the sunshine. No matter how stressful or worrisome something is, I believe that small gestures can spark joy and remind us that tomorrow is another day and another beautiful opportunity to make things right. I try never to get disheartened by rejection (you see a lot of it as a freelancer)—or to go to bed angry or upset with anyone.

Favorite note-taking techniques/tools: For many years now, right before New Year, I’ve bought a weekly planner. I jot down my appointments for the week on the left. I divide the space on the right into three columns—the assignments I have on hand, the payments I’m tracking, the stories I’ve pitched that week. My goal is to get more pitches accepted and assigned, and more assigned stories done so that I’m ready to collect payment. It’s easy to monitor at a glance each week. At the end of the year, I’ve used every inch of space on it.

How I keep track of my to-do list: For daily tasks and to-do lists, I use a good old-fashioned whiteboard. That’s because I’m unlikely to miss what’s right in front of my face. Sticky notes can fly away, and I spend too much time staring at screens as it is. So I prefer non-tech tools to keep me organized.

Essential software/apps/productivity tools: My journal is my greatest productivity tool. I can refer back to previous years’ entries too (I’ve stored six years’ worth now), so I know exactly when I started working for an outlet, who gave me my biggest assignments that year, and how much I’ve been paid. An essential app that I really use well and I think can help writers is WhatsApp. I use it to record voice notes, both in the field and at home, and I message these to myself. I also send myself interesting articles that I can look up later. It’s also a great tool to use to interview people in other countries, especially if your interviewee doesn’t have access to a computer or can’t Zoom.  

Favorite time waster/procrastination habit: I am prone to going on a Korean or k-drama jamboree—if I let myself go, I can binge-watch a 16-hour series in just a couple of days! I love Asian drama in general—Korean, Chinese, Japanese, and Taiwanese. I slobber over the food, the hairstyles, the music, and the action and romance plots. It’s just super fun. One rule that I try to follow is to never watch anything before I begin work for the day or before a deadline, because otherwise, I’m doomed! But seriously, we all have rabbit holes that we plunge into now and then. Plunging in once in a while is okay—you can sheepishly claw your way out at the end of it. But plunge in for too long and too often, and that’s a problem. I see excessive procrastination as a kind of self-harm, so we all need a rule to deal with it.

My reading habits: I read fiction and nonfiction in equal measure. I enjoy biographies. Open by Andre Agassi was a favorite. I’m not a big tennis fan, so that took me by surprise. I love diverse authors. Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko, anything by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, and Indian writers like Anita Desai, Kamala Markandaya, Thakazhi S Pillai—they are all fascinating story-tellers.

I am constantly reading the news, but I don’t consider that actual reading. I read for pleasure at long stretches over the weekends—smaller stints before bed.

Sleep schedule: I used to be quite the insomniac, but now I’m trying to correct my sleep habits. It’s not easy! When I don’t have pressing deadlines, I usually fall asleep only after midnight and wake up around 7:00 or 8:00 a.m. When I do eventually sleep, I sleep well. I just wish drifting off wasn’t so hard. I am prone to sleep envy—I wonder how some people (like my husband) can fall asleep so easily. I wish I had a non-chemical way of bottling that!