Born in the late ’80s in the beautiful city of Guwahati (Assam), I was quick to learn as well as identify people and objects that would matter to me in the long run in my big joint family. They were Ma, Baba, and Cinema. No brownie points for guessing that I was labelled a TV bug soon after, and my ability to figure out the show timings way before I could even read or write brought me more disgrace than honour. However, that is a different story for a different time which can be titled as ‘Criticism begins at home.’

Coming back to this story, as a child, I had a very clear concept of the nature of the tele shows.  The afternoons belonged to the struggling ladies telling stories of their depressing households like ‘Shanti’ aunty. The nights belonged to the strict people who spoke for an hour in Hindi and English with a customary smile, just before they say ‘Goodnight’. Baba called it the bulletin. An hour or two before dinner, few folks who looked more colourful and appeared lively, either doing something funny in ‘Idhar-Udhar’ or extremely serious in ‘Humlog’, based on the day of the telecast. The rest of the time, the moon went round and round with a BGM of ‘Sare jahan se achha’ (sad version) only to turn in to the iconic Doordarshan logo.

During weekends the Gods visited us. Even they had their own stories. Somebody’s mother sent him to 14 years of exile and the other had to fight his uncle and deal with his life between real and foster parents on the banks of Yamuna. There was a big joint family as well, were five brothers and their cousins kept hating each other until they fought a war for property rights.

Even as I child, who was fully aware of all the shows and content available throughout the week, there were only two names that could see my eyes glow and longing for more, the two musical shows featuring the latest Hindi movie songs (we can give a backlink to Santu’s site here), ‘Chitrahaar’ and ‘Rangoli’. Both the shows ran for half an hour and a mandatory retro song at the end. The shows that introduced me to Sadhna’s lost Jhumka in Bareli and Madhuri’s lover, for whom she would either wait while counting ‘Ek, Do Teen’ or celebrate his homecoming, singing ‘Mera piya ghar aya’. I was fascinated and glued to the TV Set every time these songs aired, never caring who was on the screen. All I cared for was the way they moved. Unknowingly I started imitating them and probably I did it so well that people in my extended family and neighbourhood made me dance on almost all the family occasions.

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this post are the personal views of the author. They do not necessarily reflect the views of KolkataFusion. Any omissions or errors are the author’s and KolkataFusion does not assume any liability or responsibility for them.

To Be Continued…

Recommended Read: The Dragon Went to the Toilet

About Sudipta Ghosh

Sudipta is an HR by profession and a Youtuber by passion. She believes in the philosophy that “Life is too short to settle for basics” Writing for her is being able to help readers visualize what she sees. She believes stories are fascinating when they are relatable. Being a people’s person, she switched to Human Resources after completing her Masters in Economics. Her short attention span and love for exploring new things in life made her a dancer, Zumba fitness instructor, a beauty pageant winner and a part-time model all at the same time. Her Youtube Channel, Somewhat Filmy! is sure to grab your attention!

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this post are the personal views of the author. They do not necessarily reflect the views of KolkataFusion. Any omissions or errors are the author’s and KolkataFusion does not assume any liability or responsibility for them.

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