The Radio, Morning Memories, and More!

The sun was obviously hiding beneath the clouds, explaining why it was still very dark. It had rained continuously the previous day and throughout the night. Only by looking at the clock did I know it was morning. 

I think it’s a great idea to get out of bed and make proper use of time, I thought to myself. Rather than getting to work, I drifted into some endless chatter with my better half who by then was wide awake. 

Popping up a question 

“Hey, why was 6 AM such an iconic time when we were growing up?” I asked. My husband had an instant answer: “I think a big part of it had to do with All India Radio.” 

That was a pretty smart response! Those of my generation growing up in the India of the late sixties and earlier decades could not have not known the signature tune of AIR. That piece of music played for five minutes from 5:55 AM till the start of the morning program at 6. It was a ritual in many households for an elder to turn on the radio and let the beautiful tune rent the air to signal the day’s beginning.

Many years later, I gathered interesting bits of information about this tune which was based on raga Shivaranjini. The composer was a Jewish refugee named Walter Kaufman who fled to India to find a safe haven from the Nazis. He joined All India Radio and worked as a director of music for several years.

Rising early was the norm

Those three figures of the six and the two zeroes on the digital clock flooded me with memories from the yesteryears. I revisited that hour when homes would be buzzing with activity. Parents those days would object to their kids being late risers, something that Gen Z would find totally unrelatable.

Snuggled in the north-east, we in the state of Assam have the sun greeting us much earlier than many other parts of India. So 6 AM was never too early to wake up. By then the city was fully bathed in the golden rays. We were used to hearing those anecdotes of active people who woke up at 4 AM and did very well in life. Whether true or fabricated, parents have no dearth of inspirational stories for their children.

There was some breather during the holidays but no respite on school days. At the cost of repeating this story yet another time in my posts, I am doing it again. Perhaps I am not weary of playing this old record. Whenever my mother woke me up, she would advance the time by an hour. I would sit up in bed with a thump. How foolish I must have been to fall for her trick on a continued basis!

News and views over a cuppa

The morning newspaper was an integral part of the routine. For many, it complimented a hot cup of tea or coffee. Stacking multiple loads on the back of his bicycle, the delivery boy moved from one house to another, tossing the paper onto the porch. Compressed in a big pile, at times one could feel the warmth of the sheets.

My father was the first one to lay his hands on the newspaper and read it from front to back. Often the headlines were read out aloud for us to gather some idea of what was happening around us. He carried on with this habit till the very end of his life.

Looking out for the milkman 

The concept of milk being purchased from the supermarket simply did not exist for us. Everyday there was fresh milk delivered to our doorsteps. Boiling the milk was a big chore, so the milkman arriving on time was extremely important. In some cities there were booths where people collected their bottles. 

Who races to the bathroom first?

Morning showers were a must. Children learned that bathing in the morning helped them wake up and feel energized to start the day. There was however a catch to this. If a bathroom had to be shared, the challenge was being prompt enough to get the first spot. Then again, if someone kept bathing to his or her heart’s content, the next person left no stone unturned to bang the door for their turn. The bottom line was: Who could waste time at that hour?

In a nutshell, mornings ceased to exist minus the rush. 

Children got ready for school, elders prepared to leave for work, breakfast was served, and lunches were packed for those leaving the house. The morning hustle and bustle set the tone for a lot that was to follow thereafter. It was like the first of many acts of a play staged during the day.

In my mid fifties now, it was quite a feeling to reflect upon those mornings swept away by the sands of time. With nostalgia tugging at my heartstrings, I reminisced about my role in that play as a performing actor. Oh, those sure were the days!