Ridhima
Radio may not have been a major part of my life, but it was certainly a significant part of my parents’. My mother, in particular, carried her little friend wherever she went, even while carrying out her daily chores. She fondly recounted how people would gather in pin-drop silence around the single source of news and entertainment, listening to pivotal moments such as the assassinations of our prime ministers, new music, intriguing stories, and riveting radio plays. Yes, radio drama. The crisp dialogues would captivate people, and when combined with audio effects like the sound of flowing water, creaking doors, echoing footsteps, and more—compensating for the missing visual aspect—they provided an enthralling cinematic experience. At night, the soft hum of transistor radios filled every household. My mother would drift off to sleep while listening to a program called “Chhaya Geet,” a program still famous to this day. This habit was later picked up by my brother in his childhood. My mother listened to the radio to such an extent that she would often get scolded for constantly draining the radio’s battery. Certainly, radio was a truer companion to her and her generation than it has been to me.”
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