Lucknow, the city of nawabs and kebabs, baghs and minars, comes across as a place where the Hindi language languidly stretches itself in full glory alongside companionable Urdu; where common people use words like daftar instead of office; where Hinglish is uncommon; and the self and the other are referred to in deeply respectful, almost royal terms. A culture that can, politely of course, offer the proverbial check in the mirror.
No surprise then, from a historical, leisurely city that has lent itself to plenty of poetry, emerges a soulful voice on radio every day that tells its listeners stories from an ‘imaginary city’ about ‘everywhere people’.
The sprawling, newly renovated Gomti Nagar home of storyteller Neelesh Misra, where his 14-month-old daughter is playing with her grandparents, could be congruent to his calling. A modern, minimalist look peppered with parts of the past: alarm clock, brass lamp, auto-rickshaw toy.... “That’s where I plan to place my new rocking chair,” Misra says half in jest, pointing to a corner of his study where a wall displays photojournalist Steve McCurry’s iconic image of the Afghan Girl. It is the place where India’s most well-known radio narrator records the daily diary of stories that get transmitted to over 35 million listeners in more than 35 cities.
It was a story that Misra wrote in 2009 on growing up with Doordarshan that eventually led to a career switch. “Writing about DD for me was also about growing up in small-town India. The story came alive after it was published. The readers’ response was unlike any other. Nostalgia as a theme is virtually untapped in the creative arts. It was also a time I was professionally fatigued and looking for an outlet.” Misra took a sabbatical from reporting and set up a ‘writer’s band’ with singer Shilpa Rao and others. “I had always written, never been on stage, let alone be trained. The idea was to tell stories to an audience. We debuted at Mumbai’s Kala Ghoda festival in 2010, introduced by Anurag Kashyap, which went well.” Misra was then invited by Big FM to do a radio show and the rest is recent history. “The first story I did on radio was called Diwali Ki Raat. At that time I didn’t know structure, how long to talk, how to intersperse the narrative with songs.... People from the industry told me you are stupid to do this. It is a good idea but won’t work. Who wants to listen to stories on prime time?”
This was 2011 and season one. The feedback he got prodded him further. “We got letters saying people suffering from depression felt an improvement in their moods,” he says. “A girl in Ahmedabad gave a pen drive of the stories to her friend suffering from cancer. A market in Bikaner put the show on a loudspeaker....” It was the best time for him creatively, where Misra was writing at night and recording the next morning. Along with readers’ feedback and their own stories, he also started receiving personal advice! “It began to feel like a responsibility. We took care not to identify any places, language, religion, physical attributes of the characters in the story. It was about tales of love, heartbreak, success, in general.... I try not to let people feel defeated at the end of a story but have a sense of beautiful longing where they can reinterpret life. Also, no one dies in Yaad Sheher [memory town].”
From one radio channel, the show started to beam out of half a dozen, including All India Radio, over the years. In 2014, the Uttar Pradesh government asked Misra and his team to use storytelling to “communicate useful policies to people”. “I was given labels such as ‘mouthpiece for the Samajwadi Party government’, but I was more excited to empower citizens,” he explains. Thus was born the UP Ki Kahaniyan project, where messages about polio drops could be dispensed creatively. Eventually, Misra also set up a ‘Monday Mandli’ in Mumbai at 11am on Mondays, where a cooperative of 50 writers help each other improve their work, sometimes logging in via Skype if they are in different cities. “We create original content every day. The idea is to make stars out of housewives, common working people....” In every story they make ‘five plot highs’ to create hooks for the listener. His journalism background in meeting deadlines helped in the new venture. “To be a good writer, you have to be a good listener and observer. I learnt that from reporting, too,” he says.
It has been five years, as old as Misra’s youngest listener, while his oldest fans are grandparents. “Often, I am told, they come together and listen to the show. It is like giving listeners their world, a theatre of the mind.” What is it like being a non-visual storyteller? “Radio is both powerful and easy. In my mind I always imagine myself to be sitting on a park bench and telling a story to a stranger. When we started out, radio was about songs, we managed to make space for the spoken word.” Last year, The Washington Post described Misra as the Garrison Keillor of India, who, like the American radio storyteller, tells of a ‘vanishing way of life from a fictional town’. Keillor’s Lake Wobegon is Misra’s Yaad Sheher. “Cable TV killed storytelling, attention spans have shrunk, people have no time for their children. We are trying to reestablish family bonding through storytelling,” Misra says with a smile, as he drains the last cup of tea. Out come the giant headphones and a golden microphone.... It is time to record hope.
MAKING WAVES
Storytelling on radio in India seems to be a growing trend. Earlier this year, a popular FM station began beaming Saadat Hasan Manto’s short stories. Another one narrated homegrown heroes’ inspirational stories, while actor-anchor Annu Kapoor hosts one on classics and legends of Bollywood. The older generation might recall the satirical show Hawa Mahal on Vividh Bharti nearly 60 years ago.
