Remember, there used to be days when there were only two channels on the radio, both owned by the All India Radio; AIR FM Rainbow, and AIR FM Gold. The title music for both these channels rings in my ears as I write this. The sing-song multi-layered voice of women singing A-I-R - FM - Rainbow, and likewise for the Gold channel. Oh, and then came the new age, hip promotional song for AIR in english...that went something like - "yaay, we got an FM music place..all the taaaime.." It was the 'it' thing back then, and as far as I can remember, there was a music video released too, for this song on TV. Those were the days........
Why am I recalling all of this suddenly like a hopeless romantic? That's because I am wondering how times have changed. How the pleasures which we derive from certain things today differ in texture and quantity from the pleasures derived back in the day from the same sources.
So, yesterday evening, my brother talked to this one RJ Sayema, at the FM channel Radio Mirchi on air, for about 5 minutes, answering a quiz on Kishore Kumar, on the eve of the legendary singer's birthday, and remarkably enough, managed to sing a few lines of his favorite Kishore Kumar song too. When this encounter played on the radio a few hours later, all of us family members gathered around the mobile phone serving as a radio transmitter, stayed shut and listened closely for those 5 minutes. A slight smile on each face betrayed the modest amount of happiness everyone felt on listening to my brother's voice coming from the radio.
Midway through this episode, I thought - what's the big deal?? Oh yes, you talked to a famous RJ; yes, your voice could be heard all across the city for 5 minutes, and yes, you sang on Radio...but so what? Is that special or extraordinary anymore?
Now, let's go back a couple of decades. Picture the same situation in that time zone. Would our reactions have been the same? Of course not. The whole mohalla would've known at exactly what time the program will air, and for how long the voice of one of their neighbors could be heard on the radio; the mother would've made sure of that. It would've been no surprise if a few neighbors and close relatives had actually gathered in the house to listen to the programme together. This is because an event like this held a special importance in the lives of people back then. Social media interaction was at a bare minimum, and so, a voice heard on radio, or a name mentioned in the newspaper, was special. An appearance on television, well, was a different story altogether.
Why don't we feel special about such events anymore. A radio interaction, a prize won in a contest, a TV debate, or even a celebrity autograph. In fact, why Can't we feel special about them? It is because the exclusivity of such events in our lives has been lost. Talking about radio, there are way too many radio channels on the frequency today, with hundreds of RJs in every city. These channels thrive on public interaction, and literally, the whole city is talking to the RJs everyday, providing them with fodder for their shows. So one getting the privilege of being on the city radio for a few minutes does not command any respect or awe anymore, its just normal. Even the RJs, because there are so many of them, and because they're very easily approachable, do not enjoy that celebrity status anymore. Compare that to the regard your dad holds the baritone-rich Ameen Sayani in, and you'll know what I am talking about.
So now when I spot one of my friends sitting in a TV studio, debating on shows with the top journalists of the country on primetime, I'm not too excited. And surprisingly, neither are my parents. The media monster has grown leaps and bounds and taken such proportions in the last few years, that it has discreetly entered our very lives, and has become an integral part of our everyday interaction. Spotting filmstars, cricketers or other celebrities at airports or hotels, or even managing to shake hands with them or taking autographs has also vastly diminished in exhilaration value. These celebrities have come too close to the common citizen through the social media networks; you can strike a direct conversation with them on twitter and facebook; real-life pictures of them are available widely, and they've started making public appearances exceedingly often.
The vella dimaag asks the self - has the romance been lost from life with such progressive developments?
P.s. :- throughout while writing this post, i couldn't help but visualise the romantic picture of a sunny winter afternoon, a radio transistor crooning a Mohammad Rafi classic, and at the end of the song, a middle-aged announcer announcing the names of those who had written (written??..what age are we in?) to them that week. And these names, invariably every time, sounded very similar :- Iss hafte hume khat likhte hain Ghaziabad se Shaad Alam, Bittu Sharma Karol Bagh dilli se...Ballimaran, Chandni Chowk se humein likha hai Billu, Pinky, Sonu aur Kareem ne, Shalimar Bag se humein likhti hain Tasreema Begum aur unka parivaar, aur Pappu Khan ne humein likha hai Sadar Bazaar se. Aap sabhi ka boht boht dhanyawaad.
