Recently an Insta reel of Sohail Hashmiji opened the floodgates of memory.
He recalls, in the reel, how in the days of yore it was mandatory for the owner of radio/transistor radio to hold a licence (BBL or Broadcast Receiver’s License) and periodically renew it.
Since, technically the radio could also be used as a wireless receiver to transmit and receive messages the possession of a licence was therefore necessary.
This rule came in force during the British Raj and continued thereafter too, which according to Hashmiji, was illogical because after independence radios were only used for the purpose of entertainment and listening to the news (local, BBC) etc.
I remember my father once showing a small white booklet , almost like the erstwhile bank or Post Office pass book to us. It was the License Book that Hashmiji refers to and had to be renewed yearly by paying a stipulated sum of money. Much later, I guess the rules were modified and the licence and it’s renewal were no longer required.
We had a radio of Bush Company. It had knobs and an internal aerial and a green ‘cat’s eye’. The knobs had to be wound to catch the ‘station’ at the right frequency. The cat eye was the indicator to show whether the aerial had caught the signal. At the wrong or weak frequency sound got lost or distant or had a lot of disturbances. The transmission got affected in bad weather too when it was hard to catch the correct frequency.
My sister recalls the radio in our maternal uncle’s (Mamu). It was of Murphy Company. The knobs perhaps had stopped functioning but my cousins could still get some sound out of it by thumping hard on its sides and the top. 😂😂
Those were the days when television was unheard of. Later black and white TV did make an entry but only few households could afford it. Even radio was beyond the means of many. In those days a radio, a transistor or a fridge was a once-in-a-lifetime purchase and continued functioning without any glitch for years/generations.
We were allowed fixed times for listening to the radio that too at low volume – after completing daily homework or on quiet afternoons when Babuji was not at home or late at night (i.e. between 9 and 10 PM) or specific programmes which were enjoyed by the entire family. I remember waiting for those pre-approved time slots – listening to Chhaya Geet , Binaca (later Cibaca) Geet Mala, Jai Mala (aired for the benefit of the Armed Forces), Hindi plays on Hawa Mahal and English songs on Mondays and Fridays. The name of the programme was I think Listening To The Grooves or something like that.
Sometimes while winding the knobs we were lucky enough to catch Radio Ceylone or Aakashvani Kolkata. And what excitement that would be especially on Mahalaya day (days before Durga Puja) early in the morning at 4.00 AM to listen to the one and a half hour programme welcoming Maa Durga as Mahishasuramardini.
Whether radio or TV , both were considered causes of potential distraction that could lead youngsters astray. That is why their use was strictly monitored by the elders. A loud, blaring radio was disruptive for the family where the other members might be engaged in more serious activities. The concept of individual space and privacy had not entered our dictionaries. Headphones and earphones were merely figments of imagination (probably they came in vogue with Walkmans). Emphasis was laid on reading the newspaper, school books and books which would enhance general knowledge and engage in introspective discourses.
But youth is always looking for temptations. So did we. In today’s age of global exposure through the internet or the ubiquitous mobile phone which enables loads of wanted and unwanted information on feather-touch, the license for possessing a radio and strict parental control to listen to it, which could only connect to limited portals of infotainment, may seem amusing.
My cousins had a fine collection of vinyl records (LPs and EPs) of the latest English and Hindi film songs. So we looked forward to hearing those songs on the radio too.
Listen to this song by Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood which we often played on the record player as well as listened on the radio.
Footnote : Sohail Hashmi, brother of Safdar Hashmi, is an oral Historian of Delhi , social activist, filmmaker and heritage conservationist. He is known for his immersive Delhi Heritage Walks conducted to introduce the citizens, especially children and students, to the city’s history, people, food, architecture and culture.
We were one of the first family in the neighborhood to purchase a television. We had a crowd on days five day cricket matches were broadcast. I don’t think kids can even comprehend that now!
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Yes, absolutely. We too had community viewing of movies and other special programmes on TV. We did not have one for a long time but our neighbour had. They would be quite offended if we did not visit them on Sundays for the movie show on TV.
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This felt very familiar to me too. I lived through these days.
The radio licence, the fixed listening time, and the strict rule of low volume. Turning the knobs slowly and finally catching a clear sound felt like a small win.
Radio was not always on. It was permitted. And that made it special. We listened together to Binaca Geetmala and such programmes, and those moments stayed with us.
Compared to today, when sound is everywhere, those simple limits made listening more meaningful and joyful.
Thank you for bringing back these memories.
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That means you and I are contemporaries. which gladdens my heart as I thought I was the only prehistoric mammoth roaming the earth. 😂😂😂😂
As my days in the orbit are dwindling memories of the past are becoming sharper and source of pleasureful ruminations.
Is age catching up ?
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GC, that makes two of us 😊
Much more senior here, so the prehistoric title is safely mine. The mammoth club already had a founding member.
Age is not catching up. Memories are simply getting louder and kinder. 😀😀
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Considering your seniority I, in my true Bengali-ness, should address you as Dada or Philoda or Mr. Pda whichever you like.
😆😆😆😆
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This was a beautifully evocative piece that brought an entire era back to life.
The details about radio licenses, fixed listening hours, and tuning frequencies felt deeply familiar and intimate.
I could almost see the green cat’s eye glowing and hear the crackle of distant stations.
Your memories of Radio Ceylon, Mahalaya mornings, and family-approved programmes are especially moving.
It’s striking how entertainment once required patience, discipline, and togetherness.
In today’s instant, unrestricted media world, this contrast feels both amusing and humbling.
The writing gently reminds us of a slower, more mindful relationship with sound and stories.
Thank you for preserving these precious slices of lived history so warmly.
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Thank you so much Mahananda. Its really heartening to note that yester year lifestyles still resonate in this fast age of information grab and enormity of exposure
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wow, to imagine needing a license for the radio sounds crazy! Different times for sure!
also, as you noted this: “The concept of individual space and privacy had not entered our dictionaries. Headphones and earphones were: not yet thought of – it also reminded me of different times.
The ladybird son was nice…
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Thank you Yvette. As I often say I am a dinosaur 🤣🤣🤣🤣
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♥
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A fine slice of history
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Thank you so much Derrrick 🙏🙏🙏🙏
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Haha 😄
GC, no need for Dada or any titles. Actual ages are a mystery here. I only guess seniority from your posts, and that guess may be right or completely off. Let the mammoths stay informal. 😀😀
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😂😂😂😂
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I remember my grandfather had such a radio. When in high school, I had a small one to listen to songs ( Hindi) late at night.
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After the Bush Radio died it’s natural death we had a transistor for a very long time. Then the two in one took over.
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Mine was a small battery operated one.
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Yes, yes, those small ones were very handy
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Yes 👍🏼
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The best and most joyous part of having a radio was Mahalaya. And later, the magic of dedicating songs to loved ones through the radio, making someone feel cherished and truly special with a surprise that came straight from the heart. Such good old memories.
I also loved listening to shruti natak (radio drama), narrated by some of the most expressive and evocative voices of that time. These days, on slow Sunday mornings, I listen to Agatha Christie audiobooks while still in bed, narrated by David Suchet himself, and also by Geraldine McEwan, who played Miss Marple. Different medium, same quiet comfort.
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On which channel is the audio book read by David Suchet?
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Audible app
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Ok.
Thanks.
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I don’t know about Radio License but am familiar with the radio with knobs and aerial; pin drop silence when grandfather was listening to news on All India Radio, BBC,and Voice of Germany; waiting for elders to leave and then tuning the radio to listen to Bollywood songs.
Afterwards we bought a black and white TV,watched serials like Ramayana,Buniyad, Mungeri Lal kay sapnay,fauji and many other serials and movie on Sunday with the family.
Chitrihar chori chori daikhtay thay
Thank you Geeta Ji ,sunharay din yaad dilanay kay liyey.
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Thank you Nusrat for being with me. I too loved all the serials you mentioned
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Interesting.
We too had a Murphy radio.
There was a story about a baby model called Murphy baby. Do you remember?
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Yes, I remember the Murphy baby 😍
And the doggo on HMV records…
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[…] Those “License Days” And The Irreplaceable Radio […]
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Thank you for sharing your memories, Geeta. Very interesting.
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Thank you so much Mary for reading and liking it.
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[…] Those “License Days” And The Irreplaceable Radio […]
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