Twenty years ago, a private radio station offered me my first job as a radio jockey. The station had a slota��for just a couple of hoursa��on All India Radio, which was known to all as FM. A few years later, the government decided to privatise FM and ordered all existing slots to be taken off-air till the results of the auction (for the new frequencies) were declared. The few of us who were addicted to the medium decided to move our tents to a place where we could be heard.
AIR was the next stop. The pioneers of radio decided to let us in, but with strict conditions. It was like a boot camp, however, looking back, thata��s what was required when you want to discipline kids in a candy shop. The money earned was not a number that would alarm folks at the tax department. It was `125 per show and we got six shows to make a mark. It was never about the money, as nothing compared to the unconditional love that listeners gave us.
Filling a litre of gas and having a good lunch was cheaper than buying a compact disc, which was around `800. Nothing was proportional and definitely nothing seemed to fit, but we continued with our radio journey because, in our minds, we knew this medium was about to explode in a good way. All we needed to do was be patient and stick around for that to happen.
This was a time when there wasna��t any radio software to help us with our music. Everything was manually done. Ita��s hilarious to see presenters today complaining about salaries and how tiring it is doing a show. Todaya��s generation has everything it needs while going on-air. The only technology we had was a pager and we made the most of it.
Ia��ve been lucky to get a front row seat and witness the growth of radio. To my fellow presentersa��treat the medium with care and experience what it gives back. Herea��s to another 20! See you next week.
a�� firstname.lastname@example.org .
The writera��s views expressed here are entirely in his personal capacity.