When radio ruled the roost

THERE was a time when the radio was the main source of news and entertainment. It was more than a box with knobs and wires — it was a friend, teacher and storyteller.

The day began with the calm voice of the announcer: “Yeh All India Radio hai. Ab samay hua hai subah ke chhe baje. Aaiye suniye aaj ke karyakram ki suchi.” (This is All India Radio. It’s 6 am. Let’s listen to today’s programme schedule.)

From devotional songs at dawn to film music at night, the radio filled homes with joy. The announcers informed listeners about the time, the weather and what programme was next.

Owning a radio in the 1960s and 1970s was a matter of great pride. A licence was needed, and in most villages only one or two families had one. When the licence system ended, radios reached many more homes. People even carried them on their shoulders while walking long distances, listening to songs, news and cricket commentary. The radio soon became a symbol of respect. A groom would carry one proudly to his in-laws’ home. If he didn’t have one, he would borrow it from a friend. At many places, a radio was also given as part of a bride’s dowry.

Boys gathered under a tree or in a courtyard to enjoy cricket commentary. “And that’s a beautiful shot through the covers!” — such lines made their eyes shine with excitement as if they were watching the match live.

The story goes that a villager once took his radio to the field while ploughing. When a song started playing, he said, “Keep quiet now; I’ll listen to you after finishing my work.” Later, when he switched it on again, another programme had begun. Annoyed, he threw the radio to the ground. The batteries rolled out and the antenna got bent. Looking at the broken set, he said, “When I asked you to sing, you kept quiet. Now you are dancing with dhol (batteries) and chimta (antenna)!”

Nothing went to waste in those days. After a battery had served its time, schoolchildren would break it open to use the grey lead for drawing lines on wooden slates. People even kept used cells in the sun, hoping they would get recharged!

Every town had a small radio repair shop where skilled hands worked wonders. Radios were treated like family treasures, covered neatly with cloth or leather. People would get their sets repaired as soon as they started making a crackling sound.

The radio was also a guide. Job aspirants listened to Employment News to know about vacancies in the Army or government service. Farmers banked on Krishi Darshan to learn about crops, the weather and farming methods.

The radio reminds us of a time when neighbours gathered around a set to laugh, listen and share small joys. Life was simple, and people had time for each other. In the 21st century, radio programmes are being heard through smartphones and vehicle stereos. Though the world has moved ahead, the magic of those golden days — guzra hua zamana — still lives in our hearts.