Radio, the Magic Box of My Days !

Today, TV the Idiot Box is omnipresent even in our slums. But it is difficult to imagine, what excitement was caused by the arrival of the very first radio in our locality, way back in 1939. Apart from providing music and news, it occupied a hallowed niche in our house. It was also a matter of great social status, as is evident from my childhood journal:

In 1936 electricity came to our house in Cawnpore (Kanpur), India, in the form of a bare bulb dangling in our courtyard. My widowed Nani (granny) allowed only my eldest Mama (uncle), who was an army doctor to switch it on and off. It was a cause for much excitement. In 1939 when the World War II broke out, Mama had to suddenly leave for the battlefront. A sort of gloom descended on our household, particularly for my Nani. Soon letters from Mama started arriving, but the envelopes looked strange. When the first such letter came and Nani saw the strange look of the envelope, she started wailing. She thought the letter had brought tidings of her son's death on the battlefield. It was mutilated and also stamped 'Censored'. A part of a page was scissored off. Any sentence, which would give any clue to the whereabouts of Mama's division, or how the Allies were faring, were blacked out. So, only lines regarding his welfare, and his enquiries about different members of the family, were left for us to read.

The lack of real news about Mama and his whereabouts was stifling everyone. Nani wanted to know how much that new magic box, the radio would cost. By now all our rooms had been wired. We had heard about this modern wonder, from which emanated voices from remote corners of the world. But none of us had seen it as yet. After many visits by my younger Mama to the market, the radio finally arrived. This Victorian piece of furniture was kept in our drawing room on an equally Victorian table. When not in use, it was covered by a piece of elaborate embroidery.

Now we could tune into All India Radio and get all the news from the different battlefronts. We could also listen to famous singers of those days, like Pankaj Mullick and K.L. Saigal. Our neighbors would shout from their balconies, asking us to raise the volume, so that they too could hear the radio. Much later, we would also clandestinely hear Netaji, Subash Chandra Bose's Azad Hind Radio. Netaji was leading an Army of Indian soldiers, who had defected and instead were fighting for India's freedom from the British. Listening to enemy broadcasts meant instant imprisonment. Nevertheless, our elders would be charged up, when Netaji himself used to speak on the radio and urge his countrymen to take up arms against the British.

The arrival of the magic box electrified the atmosphere at home. Friends and neighbors would drop in to listen and gape in awe at the radio. What none of us had anticipated was, that possessing this radio became a status symbol. Now requests for borrowing it for an evening started coming, from the circle of family and friends. When an important visitor was coming home, the people wanted to display it prominently at their homes. Soon a pattern emerged. Most of the time our radio was being borrowed, when for a marriage proposal the boy's people were coming home to see the girl. The radio would be displayed in its temporary home very prominently and suitably decorated with a flower vase.

Once, my Nani's brother-in-law came home. A very good proposal had come for the hand of his daughter. The boy was a Rationing Officer, a detail not to be trifled with. Next day the boy's people were coming in the evening, to see the girl and he wanted to borrow the radio. This was a family affair, and all had to pitch in to see that the girl was approved. Both my younger uncles went in advance. Our ladies also left early to help prepare a real Kayastha feast, so that the boy's people would get a taste our family's idea of hospitality. When the guests came, they were finally seated after much, "Pahle Aap! Pahle Aap! "- 'You first, you first' formality.
Nobody could miss our radio, which was very conspicuously presiding, Ganapati-like over the proceedings. The hosts were carefully watching, whether the guests were casting glances towards the radio. Yes, they were and very approvingly! First the girl, the prospective bride, was asked about her cooking abilities, and then asked to sing a song. But all along, the eyes were on the radio. There was already an air of approval all around. The boy's people said 'Yes' to the proposal on the spot. Everyone was delighted. Nani's brother-in-law profusely thanked Nani for lending the precious radio. It had played such an important part, in the approval of the marriage proposal for his daughter, he said. I could not understand what the radio was doing in this house, which had no electricity, and still played such an important role in the approval of the girl! Only kerosene lanterns lighted the entire house, like any other day!!!