Tuning in to Nostalgia

We whitewashed our house last week and had to take down the TV cable for a while. What followed was four days of complete bliss and silence. For a change, the evenings did not find us hooked to the mindless trash on TV and the three of us actually had a few civil conversations with each other. By the third day however, the TV withdrawal symptoms were at their worst. Being forced to spend more time than was necessary in each other’s company without TV to distract us was straining our patience to the maximum. 

In self-defense I decided to switch on the radio. For the sake of nostalgia, I decided to forego the usual FM channels with their shrill voiced RJ’s and tuned into All India Radio.

The first thing I heard was the very dignified voice of an AIR Newsreader saying “Yeh Aaakashwani hai, ab aap suniye Hindi mein samachar” and that brought back an avalanche of memories.

In the 80s and 90s when I was a school going kid, TV had gained entry into almost all homes. Those were the days when the highlight of our TV viewing was the weekly film on Sundays and the Spiderman cartoon series preceding it. Not to forget the mother of all soaps – Buniyaad and Hum Log. But back then Television broadcasts were only for a few hours every day. So the Radio still reigned supreme.

The mornings in most households including mine started with the radio cackling to life. We measured our time according to the programs on the Radio. First came Vande mataram, followed by the morning bhajans. This meant it was time to get up and get ready for school. And if I was still gulping down my milk by the time the English news started, I was sure to miss my school bus!

I have dim memories of my parents and brother listening to a program called Hawa mahal at night. Hawa Mahal was immensely popular and used to show case plays by famous writers. Because Radio is not a visual medium, the success of the play depended entirely on how the actors read out their parts. The speakers modulated their voice and tone to suit every emotion. So you heard throaty laughter, hushed tones trembling with passion or high pitched angry voices. There was background music as well. If it was an outdoor scene you would hear the chirping of birds or traffic. In indoor scenes you could hear the rattling of tea cups, chairs scraping as someone got up. They gave attention to the minutest of details.
Such programs really gave wings to one’s imagination. You listened to the various sounds and then visualized and created the whole scene in your mind.

My parents always listened to the political discussions or various interviews with the political leaders that came later in the night after Hawa Mahal. I was too young to understand these discussions, but as I lay snuggled up in bed, the droning voices on the radio provided some sort of comfort and familiarity.

And for a very long time Cricket for me was synonymous with the commentary on AIR. The sports commentators used to describe the action so well and in such detail that you felt you were almost there. You could almost hear the crack of the bat as it hit the ball, you could hear the ball whistling through the wind and the cheers as the crowd erupted. For a long time, before close circuit cameras came in, people used to switch on the TV to see the match but kept the voice on mute, preferring to listen to the detailed commentary on AIR.

Late night studying for my 10th boards was made bearable by English songs that played well into the night. The English used by the RJ’s (if they could be called RJ’s at that time) was impeccable and they spoke in a perfect clipped accent. There was no Hinglish then, either pure Hindi or English.

Another favorite was the BBC world service – recommended to everyone who wanted to be up to date with news and also learn proper English.

All India radio had many popular programs but there were a few that had an almost cult following. There is an entire generation of women out there who used to swoon in ecstasy whenever the very baritone voice of Ameen Sayani welcomed you to Binaca Geet mala. There were many programs on Film songs but I particularly remember one called Aapki Farmaish that played songs on requests. Requests for songs would pour in from places like Jhumri Talaiya prompting us kids to open the Atlas to see if the place actually existed! 

And not only Bengal but most of North India religiously woke up at 4 am on Mahalaya every year to tune into Mahishasurmardani. That if not anything heralded the beginning of Navratras for us.

The commentators at that time were very dignified and proper. The listeners or “shrotagan” were treated with utmost respect and reverence. The programs were more riveting and captured your interest totally. 

Radio then was something gentle and soothing, without the crassness and cacophony today’s Radio programs sometime seem to reflect.