Lance Naik Roy Mathew is not the first victim of scoop-hungry journalism

Lance Naik Roy Mathew had served the country as a jawan in the Indian Army for 14 years now. He was perhaps hesitant when he spoke against the military's "Sahayak" system to a journalist. But his face covered, as he narrated the woes of soldiers, he probably did it to effect change — to perform another service to his nation.

He did not know that there were hidden cameras filming him. He couldn't predict that the video would be uploaded on the internet without his consent, that it would go viral, and that eventually, it would leave him dead.

But beating his innocent, limited imagination, the tape did find its audience, and that's how we lost another soldier. Only this time, the assailant wasn't a surgical strike or an army base attack. It was a section of the Indian media.

Roy's brother, John Mathew, while speaking to the press, said that his brother made the disturbing revelations after ensuring that he was not being recorded.

But later, to his shock, the video went viral as his interview was secretly filmed. He alleged that the digital media outlet, which published the interview, "acted irresponsibly", knowing well the fate which befalls whistleblowers in the military.

"Still it went ahead with the sting without bothering about the consequences. The media apologised, but do you know the pain of losing a brother," John told the press.

A day after the video was uploaded, Roy went missing, and three days later, his decomposed body was found hanging from a ceiling in an abandoned barrack in Maharashtra's Deolali cantonment, where he was serving as a sahayak or orderly to a colonel.

As a journalist, when I read Roy's story, I was left fuming.

To my mind, it was a new low for the Indian media. While working on stories, I have witnessed my colleagues, disregardful at funeral pyres, shoving microphones into the mouths of a murder victim's family, robbing them of their right to grieve.

I've seen ghastly video recreations of Nirbhaya's gangrape, which serve no other purpose but the TRPs. I've read reports detailing Aarushi's "sex life", which add only to our voyeurism, not journalism.

However, the repercussions of this bad reportage were limited to severe emotional damage. But now, with Roy, we've cost a life as well.

Roy's untimely death bellows a reminder of the Adnan Patrawala abduction and murder case. In August 2007, Adnan, who was 16 then, was found dead in bushes on the outskirts of Mumbai.

According to the prosecution's case, a day before, a group of five men had kidnapped Adnan. Soon after, they made a call to his businessman father, and demanded a ransom of Rs 2 crore.

Meanwhile, the news of Adnan's abduction had made it to Indian news channels. The story received urgent coverage, substantial air time. Panicked by the news reports, Adnan's abductors strangled him, and dumped his body.

Would Adnan have survived if my fraternity had allowed the negotiation its course? Although the answer perturbs me, I'm afraid, yes.

I really believe that somewhere, the pressures of competitive journalism, of 24x7 news reportage, of scoops and meat-driven press, overwhelm each of us journalists.

And the casualty, each time, is the soul of journalism — her ethics. After all, it was not for nothing that the Nepalese asked the Indian media to retreat, when we marched to the impoverished Himalayan state in May 2015, armed with our cameras and pens, and rubbed the wounds deeper into the veins of those devastated earthquake victims.

"Your media and media personnel are acting like they are shooting some kind of family serials. There has been one viral news report where a reporter presented how people were fighting for food and one woman got injured badly. Thanks to the reporter who had enough time to grab the victim, bring (her) to the camera, and show the victim hurt badly on her head. But how surprising, he did not have a minute to grab a piece of cloth to stop the bleeding. I think you are a human before you become a mediaperson. As a human, show your humanity," a miffed Nepalese woman wrote about the Indian media on her blog.

But the Indian media's unnerving reportage of the Nepalese earthquake was not the first such disaster in crisis coverage.

We had toed the boundaries of civility even during the 26/11 carnage in Mumbai. As ten armed terrorists held the city to ransom for four days in November 2008, eventually killing 164 people, Indian television channels were busy with their live coverage on the operations of our security forces, who were desperately trying to flush out the terrorists.

Transcripts of conversations between the terrorists and their handlers, who were sitting in their hideouts across the border, revealed that the handlers were constantly watching the live Indian coverage of the siege, noting the positions of the Indian security forces, and guiding the terrorists in accordance.

While talking to terrorists at Hotel Oberoi, the handlers are heard informing the terrorists about the Indian troops strengthening their position on the building's roof.

At Nariman House, meanwhile, handlers are heard warning the terrorists about the likely landing of Navy helicopters on the terrace.

"The shots and visuals could have been shown after all the terrorists were neutralised and the security operations were over. But, in that case, the TV programmes would not have had the same shrill, scintillating and chilling effect and would not have shot up the TRP ratings of the channels. It must, therefore, be held that by covering live the terrorists' attack on Mumbai in the way it was done, the Indian TV channels were not serving any national interest or social cause. On the contrary, they were acting in their own commercial interests, putting the national security in jeopardy," the Supreme Court slammed the Indian electronic media, while confirming death sentence for the lone surviving terrorist in the attack, Ajmal Kasab in August 2012.

The biggest argument against the regulation of media is the freedom of speech and expression. But I fail to understand its legitimacy when it jeopardises national or an individual's security.

I believe that there needs to be some form of control, if not in terms of a regulatory body, one that comes from within each journalist — so we know when to hold back, to stop writing.

Or else, we'll see more Roy Mathews — their tragedies eventually reduced to a series of news reports, the same which cost their lives.

Also read: An Army wife explains how the force fails the soldiers