Sunday selections

The title might ring a bell to Keralites of my generation. All India Radio, Trivandrum used to air a programme for dedicating songs, every Sunday at 3 pm. Not sure if they still have it. That was a time when cable TV was unheard of. Probably, it was the only programme where the audience could mail requests to broadcast English songs dedicated to someone of their choice. I don’t know if it was a popular programme because English songs were (and are) alien to me.

Today, TV channels are inundated with mutants of phone-in/write-in/SMS-in programmes.


I pooh-pooh the people who calls or writes with much passion and enthusiasm. Who has the time to do all these? Non-bloggers might be thinking the same about bloggers.

Then I realised I am a hypocrite.

Long back, I too had written to Sunday Selections. Well, not exactly. I hadn’t even heard about this programme until a hostel friend explained it to me. We were a gang of 17 gals and had named ourselves DDTs. Can anyone guess the expansion? We even had a logo. Okay, let me not digress. We made sure to celebrate everyone’s birthday. A gift was given and a treat was taken in return. Once, for G’s birthday, R came up with a new gift idea – to dedicate a song to G through Sunday Selections. That was when I first heard about it. We bought a post card (15 paise – misers we were!) and sent in our request. I don’t remember the song we had requested. G would be at home on Sundays. Somehow, we managed to get her listen to the programme, without revealing our secret. Those who were doomed to be in the hostel got a pocket radio. A red one, I remember.

So we sat at different parts of Kerala on that Sunday afternoon eagerly waiting for our letter to be read. Sadly, it was never read. Later, someone told us that they would give preference to letters written on fancy papers. Our humble postcard didn’t even stand a chance. Next day we told G about our failed attempt to sponsor a song for her.

I remember listening to Sunday Selections a few times after that. But it didn’t have the charm to retain my interest. But our excitement and the later disappointment is something I should consider while scoffing at the participants of today’s programmes.

Other than the song dedication programmes, I don’t like the reality shows, which many are crazy about. I can watch the former for its songs, but I can’t stand the latter. Facebook is another place where I feel lost. All these “What kind of a cat/dog you are”, “Do you have brains”, “Which famous people share bad hair day with you,” stuff do not kindle my curiosity. I ignore requests to join groups like “I love Upma”, and “I like the smell of drain – oops, rain”.

Does age has anything to do with lack of appreciation for all these new trends? Maybe.