Radio

In this era of Computers and Internet it might seem odd to talk about the radio, but I couldn’t resist my self from writing about an old rectangular black box which stood proudly on the wooden stand of our drawing room unaware of it’s age and title “The Endangered Species”. This old little piece was an integral part of my life for over seventeen years.

As far as I remember, I always woke up by the sweet devotional songs or by the dull prabhashnams (devotional speeches) or the boring slokams from the program “Subhashitangal” which the All India Radio Thrissur Station played at six in the morning. At times I really hated those religious Gurus (of all religions – as AIR tried to retain communal harmony) simply because they woke me from my dreams. As I grew up this program did have an influence on me as it helped me understand and respect all religions. I had no options to switch off the radio as our family’s timetable was stuck with it. For instance I would study till I hear “kavyanjali “at seven; it was time for me to take bath. This I loved to drag to seven fifteen as it was my favorite program. Famous and favorite lines of Malayalam poems would be recited by known and unknown Poets. I still cherish the poem which narrates the story of a young shanti who gets scolded by his mother when she sees a long black hair in the naivedyam (Prasad from temple). When the English news starts at eight I know it’s time for my school bus. This way we were all tuned to radio time. The morning course of programs would get over at nine fifteen by that time my mother would be ready to leave for her office (the last one to leave).
This poor old radio not only scheduled my time, but also it helped me with my lessons. When I was in Xth I used to listen to lectures of great teachers on how to prepare for exams, which all portions where important from the exam point of view and stuffs like that. On Sunday noon when Doordharshan showed dragging award films of different languages we would listen to music or Shabdharega.Though this poor radio delivered all these; we never touched it during night as we were busy with TV. With the intervention of cable connection providing hundreds of channel we never bothered to switch on the radio.
When I went to collage I have looked with admiration at the long antenna that every civil engineering batch tried to measure (though none of the batches got the same results); it was the AIR antenna which brought those programs for us. Though I was only yards away from the AIR I would listen to the radio once in a blue moon at some of my friend’s room. That time radio was struggling hard to retain its listeners. New programs like Phone-in programs were being introduced. With more walkman and cable TV at hostel we never bothered about radio. Later when I went to Bangalore for Infy training I was happy to find the FM radio still young and alive in that metro city. We roommates often listened to radio then. Though radio at Bangalore was concentrated on film music it still survived the harsh blows from multimedia.
Back at Trivandrum the radio helped us with its music during the initial stages when we were settling ourselves.
As soon as we bought the TV; the radio was never switch on. As I sat listening to the FM radio in the Techno park express the dusted pocket radio which lay on the parapet of our window came to my mind; I wondered how long I would hear this.

To My Beloved Teacher

This is dedicated to Mrs Baby Sidharthan, my English Teacher who laid the foundation of my education.

 As I look back I see myself as an ordinary school girl who liked nothing other than English and Malayalam (which I can call literature now). I used to score marks just to pass. My parents never bothered about my marks but my father did bother about my grammar both English & Malayalam. I got scolded only when I did badly in these. It never occurred to me that I should become something in life. Then one day when I was in fifth we got a new Social science teacher. She was small with a stern face and big bindhi. Rumors went around that she was too strict, will beat like anything …. If my memory hasn’t failed the first lesson (or this is the first I can think of in the stack of my memory) which she thought us was that of Socrates -the greatest philosopher of all times. There was something in her voice, something which broke the cyst around me. For the first time I wanted to do some thing, something which will make her notice me. The one and only way that my silly mind could think of was to study well. I struggled hard. Though I answered all her questions in the class the maximum I could get was some 16th or 17th in the class (I don’t remember the exact score). To my utter surprise the next year she was my class teacher. I was overjoyed. That was a golden year in my history, a year of transformation, a year of accomplishments. Though my teacher sometimes took only one Para per period, it was worth remembering for life time. I still cherish those stories and poems- the heart felt story of mother Theresa, the top classic David Copperfield, and sad song of unknown Solitary reaper and so on. I participated in story writing competition for the first time in life & I got 2nd price for that. I was among the top 10 in the class and one among the favorites of my teacher. From then on I have strived to keep up the spirits and to be in the top three through out my school days.

 My teacher pulled me up from the pocket road and put me on the main track. The smooth, fast competitive road to start the journey towards destiny. As I started my journey I heard her singing:
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.