I'm in Kadapa (previously spelt Cuddapah) district of Andhra Pradesh. While following the TDP's candidate Shrikant Reddy, I've been reminded of a valuable lesson.

We'd left our hotel really early so when the candidate's family offered us breakfast, we didn't decline. But on the breakfast table, we didn't see a colleague of a local daily who was helping us. I saw him later outside and asked why he didn't come in. "I've eaten, madam, and I do not want to go into their house and eat. I never do that." Why? Because, then he doesn't have to think twice about slamming the politician. I am not saying that eating Reddy's dosas has made me soft on him or accepting a meal, makes us obliged towards a politician. But, hobbnobbing with them has become such a norm in Delhi that the local reporter's view was very refreshing.

It's tougher for them as well. They have to live in the same community as the people they write about. While we in Delhi hardly move in the same circles, journos in small towns can really be harassed if the neta wants to do so. Their children's admission to the local school may be stopped or their electricity can be disrupted - there are hundreds of modes of harassment.

So, it's made me think about what kind of hospitality we accept. Problem is that we are usually in the boondocks in this assignment where the neta is usually the only one who has access to clean water and some food for hungry journos. The way to be fair is maybe to eat with both parties and then we cannot be accused of being unfair to one!

Also, I've realized that I'm way too aggressive to be a reporter in a small town like Kadapa. I've just lost it with the Congress people there. Shrikant's rival, YSR's son was campaigning somewhere else so we wanted to speak with anyone of his party. His uncle, the Mayor (it's all in the family) first said he's having his siesta from 1:00 am to 3:00 am in the afternoon and then left for campaigning while we were waiting in his office. Being used to this shoddy treatment, we ran after him but when he continued to make us run for half an hour, I started screaming like a banshee ( it was the heat; it went to my head). We had waited 3 precious hours for this man (a nobody) instead of mingling with ordinary people of Kadapa just because I wanted to be fair!

The best part was that hearing me scream, a female aide said -"Please Madam, we did not know how powerful the media is."

Was she kidding me? We were being treated like dogs just for doing our job. It wasn't her fault. The Congress in YSR turf probably feels it has no use for the media.