These days we’re having frequent disgusting load shedding day & nights. The summer is really hot in Kolkata and if you’ve power cuts you’ll feel like living in a furnace. Nothing to do, just go on sweating and wait for the power to come.
That day I’ve found an old friend – my transistor radio. I just turned it on and the miracle happened. I didn’t know which center (or FM station) it was but the melodies splash in my 10/12 small room. The golden voices of the maestros like Mukesh, Rafi, Kishore, Shyamal Mitra, Lata… the immortal numbers…. Ek din bik jayega, Suhana safar, Roz roz ankhon tale, Dil kya kare…. Aro dure, Aha oi anka banka path, Ei eto alo, eto akash…. was roaming around the room.
Radios are becoming popular again for new FM stations but I’m not talking about the experience you may have with your new advanced mobile set or the car stereo.
It was not only the songs… the almost dark room with a small candle, the horn of rickshaw in nearby lane…. a gentle breeze from somewhere passed through my window. It’s different feeling altogether. Believe me or not I forgot the hot, steamy weather ….it made me feel nostalgic. It reminds of those muffasal days where power cuts and bibidha-bharati used to have strong impact on our lives.
That evening knocked me of something …something that has became vague in memories, the pale, yellow pages from the chilhood….
we’re missing something….
