Dear Editor,
It was with a profound sense of sadness that I learnt of the death of veteran broadcaster Eshri Singh last Sunday. While I knew he was ailing, even in those circumstances – as hope for recovery is rife – death is extremely painful for relatives and, in his case, fans across many countries.
Eshri was as icon with a commanding presence on radio. His rich, unique baritone voice was a fixture on the airwaves, and few, if any at all, may have missed a segment. As a boy, I grew up listening to his powerful voice early in the morning, and for an extended period on Sundays. Our alarm clock was fixed at 430am – when he was on. As my dad prepared for work, I for school, and my mom ensuring meals, Eshri’s regular time checks and sharing of relevant information were extremely useful; not forgetting the comfort he provided through music.
I recall that many from various backgrounds in the village, including sugar workers, tuned in. I know that people across the country did likewise. On Sundays, during that period when there was no internet or computer or cellphone, and when landlines seemed to be for a privileged few, the radio, whether transistor or “tabletop”, blared for the three-hour period from 1-4pm when Eshri dominated.
Whilst original Bollywood songs and information on films from India and the much beloved stars were anticipated, there was a segment that featured and promoted local talent – “Local Indian Performers”. Many of our legendary singers, musicians and budding artistes were on show.
My parents, having introduced me to Indian music at a very early age, generally ensured that the radio had batteries; Berec and Eveready were the popular brands then. When the batteries suddenly lost power and timely replacement could not have been afforded, placing them in the sunlight was a desperate short-term remedy for “re-charging”, so as not to “miss out”.
On Sundays, I would sit on the front steps, listening and hoping I would not be distracted by being asked to do a chore. Sometimes when I was unceremoniously commanded to perform a task, not only did I have to hide my frustration, but I had to grapple with the fact that my much anticipated and momentary “existence” in the world of Bollywood had ended, especially when the task was to purchase something at the shop.
In the evenings I would sing some of the songs played, or at least I tried to, loudly and much to the annoyance of those around. They forgave me, or so I felt, having known my passion for the music.
Eshri might have unknowingly been one of those responsible for me constantly tormenting those within earshot.
Then, cinema – with its derivatives of songs and stars – were the main form of entertainment for many. It was integrally woven into the culture, and Eshri ensured interest never waned. Very often, conversations about Bollywood films dominated conversation in the village, and Eshri was a reference when doubt crept in. He had a part to play in driving my interest at an early age in wanting to become an actor, given how seemingly obsessed I was with Bollywood films and music. I am sure many others were influenced by him.
Listening to Eshri, I never dreamt that one day my own voice would be coming through radio and hosting programmes related to Bollywood music and films. Through his voice, he touched many throughout the country, and he continued to do so in parts of the diaspora after he migrated to the USA. There, he became a fixture on television, thereby increasing his influence.
His daughter Tanuja and I were classmates at St. Joseph High School. She had a catalogue of cassettes featuring songs from Bollywood films, and my dad, after my insistence on occasions, gave me a treat by providing the necessary money to purchase a few over time.
My choices for cassettes were made easy by the songs Eshri played, and conversations about the stars and upcoming Bollywood films were regular with Tanuja.
Eshri’s death has left broadcasting poorer. However, the legacy he has left: his invaluable contributions to help preserve aspects of our culture, the influence he had on many, and the wonderful memories he has imprinted, will live on. I wish to extend my sincere condolences to his immediate and extended families.
Sincerely,
Neaz Subhan
