Ode to a Connoisseur

The crackling noise of the radio; a few minutes spent in tuning into the right station; and then, a song—these were the most recurrent sounds that came from Dad’s room, whenever he would lie in bed.

- Apeksha Priyadarshini

Ode to a Connoisseur

“Aaj agar bhar aayi hain
Boondein baras jaayengi
Kal kya pata inke liye
Aankhein taras jayengi
Jaane kab ghum hua, kahan khoya
Ek aansu chhupake rakha tha”
(Today, the eyes will shed tears
Who knows, maybe tomorrow
The eyes will long for these tears
Don’t know where and when I lost
The lone tear I had tucked away safely)

At any given hour of the day, there was always a song seeping out of his room. It didn’t matter whether he understood the language—the radio must stay on. Sleeping to its sound was his daily ritual. Over the years, many such radio sets came and went. There were always extra batteries at home to ensure that the music never stopped. Sometimes, he would turn up the volume really high. The entire house would erupt in chaos then and the songs would be interspersed with my mother yelling to turn the volume down.