“This ain’t my last ra-dio – oops – ahahahah, haha”, my wife burst into a fit of laughter while singing a song by the American Band ‘Restless Road’. 

“I meant to say, ‘last rodeo’, instead last ra-dio came out, ahahahah, hahahha.” She laughed out loud again. Once she starts laughing, it doesn’t stop for a while. That’s how she is. I never understand. Does anyone really? 

But that wasn’t the thought that came to me. While her laughter continued as background score, my ears could hear the familiar Ramcharitmanas from a memory which was created some 25 years ago.  

Every day at around 6:00 AM, the Ramcharitmanas, an epic poem composed by the great poet Tulsidas echoed through my grandfather’s radio. It could have been 5:30 AM but I’m not sure, I was always asleep. This was a daily programme in the All-India Radio that was broadcasted back in the day. Me and my elder brother both shared the room with our grandpa, me on the king size bed next to him, and my brother on a different bed on the other corner of the room. While the radio wasn’t necessarily ‘our’ alarm clock, it certainly was for my mother who always got out of bed hearing the radio from our room (Yes, that’s how loud it was!). The sound of the radio was an unsaid indication that grandpa was ready for his morning tea and us kids can start counting the minutes until we had to get out of bed. In a way, the radio and grandpa’s morning tea was our wake-up call for school. 

So, what did the old thing look like? (I’m talking about the radio not my grandpa! He certainly lived ‘young’ until his passing).  

I would describe it as a vintage box, nestled amid essentially all the things that my grandpa owned. He really liked to keep all things in sight that were on top of a big metal storage box, almost as big as a bed, that he used like a table. He had his suitcase, a bag made of jute, a couple of clothing, his medicines, a water jug and the list goes on.  

The radio though took center stage. A big rectangular thing almost as big as a car battery. It had two rounded knobs on the left, one bigger than the other. The bigger knob was a two-in-one that acted as a volume controller AND the on-off switch. The smaller knob controlled the channels in the radio. I always thought that the radio was black in color, but it was much later that I found out it was grey with a black leather cover. Grandpa maintained all his things well, and I seem to have happily inherited this habit from him.  

I remember pranking him once, unknowingly. One Saturday afternoon, I was bored as hell. Mom and Dad were visiting a relative and I’m not sure where my brother was. To be fair, I’m never sure where he ever is. Coming back to being bored, as I roamed around the empty house – my gaze fell upon that beautiful black vintage device. I picked it up and started moving the knob which in turn moved the red needle at the top right corner of the radio, indicating the frequency to which it was set at. One corner to the other, the needle became a plaything as it moved in a fluid motion. While that kept me engaged for a couple of minutes, my wicked mind raced, and I shifted to the other knob. As soon as I moved it, the radio turned on and in came a heavy voice of someone broadcasting in English! Taken aback, I quickly turned it off, carefully placed the radio where it belonged and rushed out, hoping grandpa does not find out that I was messing with his prized possession. As I peeked outside, grandpa was still napping in his chair, soaking in the sun. Relieved, I moved on to being bored again. 

The next morning was one I will never forget all my life. 

The next morning was one my brother will never forget all his life. 

The next morning was one my mom and dad will never forget all their life. 

The next morning was one that my grandfather never forgot all his life. 

“We will, we will ROCK you!” the radio blasted at 6AM that morning (it could have been 5:30 AM, I don’t know). 

“Hmmm!???” my grandpa murmured as he picked up the radio. 

I sat up. So did my brother. My mother entered the room confused as I started to realize what my ‘afternoon knob adventure’ might have done! Seeing my mother, I slid back inside my blanket in slow motion. More confusion ensued as I kept quiet, hidden under the blanket.  

My brother was later blamed for it because he was always the mischievous one. But boy was grandpa mad that day!  

Only that day. 

Because he was always a gentle and kind soul. He treated us to sweets that he carried around in his pocket. He enjoyed the sun every day of his life. He took his doctor’s name as a sign of care, each time I coughed. He smiled and often laughed while talking to himself. 

His radio still remains with us but doesn’t work anymore. Maybe a quick repair and some new batteries will do. I found the Ramcharitmanas on youtube today. The same Ramcharitmanas we woke up to every single day (except for that one fine day). It reminded me of that simple time when we were together as a family and that radio connected us. The memory fades slowly. But the sound lingers on.. 

– Prateek Godiyal