FAMILY MUSIC MANIA IN THE EIGHTIES

 

Listening to music has been an integral part of my life since childhood. Music to me is like breathing, as one can't stop breathing one can't stop listening to music. Music is said to be the medicine of the mind and I come from a family of music maniacs. Each of us has our own taste which has created conflicts in the house, It started with Guglielmo Marconi's radio invention,  My father's the vintage possession the Murphy Radio adorned our living room. It looked regal placed in its wooden radio box. Most middle-class people possessed it and enjoyed listening to their favourite programs on the radio. I was in middle school when I developed a craze for English music and tried to do my school work listening to the radio, while I wanted to listen to the latest English hits my father wanted to listen to the news and mom wanted to listen to the Hindi Bollywood numbers while doing her household chores. It was a competition of changing different stations as each person wanted to monopolize the radio.

Soon the radio gave way to J.L Baird's invention the Television Which was black and white in colour and not too many programmes were aired on it. I still preferred listening to the radio. With the television making an entry into our house I got some solace as dad watched the news on the television and mom saw her favourite Bollywood hit numbers being televised on certain days of the week.

It was during the eighties when the black &white television was replaced by the coloured T.V. I was thrilled when one fine day this coloured television made its way to our home. The coloured television found a prominent place in our living room while the vintage Murphy Radio set was sidelined and kept in the bedroom.

Watching our favourite programmes in colour gave us a new kind of thrill. But the coloured T.V brought with it more woes. Watching our favourite television shows was no cakewalk, there was always a tug-of-war for the T.V. remote. Watching musical programmes became a bone of contention among the family members. The shows were limited and not like the present day where you get to listen to a wide variety of musical programmes being aired 24*7. These musical programmes were aired twice a week.

We were sick and tired of watching Hindi flicks, songs, sports in black and white. But with the advent of technology, we could watch our favourite shows in colour. But watching the T.V shows was no cakewalk in our house as there was a tug-of-war for the T.V. remote. Each person wanted to watch his or her favourite channel. The shows were limited, so whether big or small all of us bickered for the possession of the T.V remote.

8 p.m was a prime time when all of us wanted to view the t.v. programmes, dad wanted to watch the news, me a serial and little bro an action movie. Mom wouldn't be a part of the feud as she would be cooking dinner. But Wednesdays and Fridays were different as Hindi movie songs were aired from 8-8.30 p.m. Our music-obsessed family would stop the remote fight and watch the CHITRAHAAR as it was called. But to top it all I was too obsessed with music not only Hindi but English music drove me crazy. Daily the A.I.R or the All India Radio aired retro English hits. The prime time being 8p.m.I generally solved my maths sums or made biology diagrams listening to music. I wanted to enjoy both the worlds i.e English and Hindi. So while the family watched Chitrahaar intently my country hits would blare and there would be cacophony which irritated the others. One minute I would be lost in the romantic Jim Reeves numbers, suddenly my reverie would be broken with the nasal twang of yesteryear Indian singer K.L.Sehgal.My father being an ardent fan of K.L.Sehgal hated any kind of disturbance while listening to his favourite singer. He glared at me to close the radio. I muted the sound but my ears would be glued to the radio and eyes to the T.V.And soon I would hear the notes of my favourite song 'Congratulations' by Cliff

 

Richards and I would increase my radio sound. I would start humming and tapping my feet and lo behold Lata Mangeshkar's dulcet voice  would be heard on T.V.Now my mom is a fan of Lata

 wanted to hear her song and got enraged when I enhanced the radio volume. Meekly again I subdued the sound. I scowled but no one paid heed. Soon I forgot the promise to subdue the sound and Pat Boon's 'Love Letters In The Sand'  mesmerized me and with my eyes closed, I would be singing along.

 But again I was jolted out from the past to the present when little bro saw Amitabh Bachchan dancing and being a fan tried to copy his moves. While copying his moves he did a taekwondo flip with his legs which caught me on my nose and I got bruised. I got bugged and tried to snatch the remote from him but he was too smart and rushed out of the room. I felt he was a pest trying to spoil my music. I just wanted to swat him like a fly. But being the pampered brat he always got away while I sulked.

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Dr Preeti Talwar