Blues Monday

I can no more tell my Sundays apart from other days. Except for the few differences such as there are more people at home on this day, all markets are super crowded, and finding parking space anywhere is a challenge, and most of my friends are already depressed at the receding weekend and the impending Monday morning blues. On one such precursor of a dreaded work week, I decided to indulge in Cream.

I chose Eric Clapton as the subject for Monday’s show “Profile from Studio 20”. We profile an artist in this show and it gets aired from studio number 20. That’s just about as creative as the programming team could’ve been.

I thought I would throw in some Monday afternoon blues just in case people didn’t have enough of the so called Monday morning blues. Very bitchy, I know. But I guess evil aims meet evil ends. But, it wasn’t purely an evil motive. I was just trying to get my occasional dose of cheap thrills. Besides Eric Clapton is certainly worth a one hour show, rather even more.

I spent my Sunday preparing for this show. Taking notes for my script and sieving through a mind boggling collection of awesome music. While driving to radio station I even saved myself from being penalized for over speeding. That’s a major satisfying achievement. I couldn’t have imagined that the rest of the day would be taken over by Mr. Murphy.

The CD didn’t work. I had to make do with whatever songs were there in the library, which was certainly not a best-of collection. There were no headphones in the studio. Finally managed to get some one in the technical unit to get me a new set. The console fader has finally started showing up ages of misuse. People kept barging in for some or the other trivia, yes in the midst of a live show. One woman wanted me to send an email to her son in US. Through my mail id. Please don’t expect me to help you understand this. I myself didn’t. These things happen at All India Radio. There is always something to bring on nostalgia. If you’ve seen “Welcome to Sajjanpur” then you would know that an occasional literate fellow in a village can make an earning out of writing post cards for other. There are people in who make living out of writing postcards. One Rupee for a post card, two Rupees for an in-land letter. I don’t know how does this scheme work with emails.

I managed to get rid of her somehow. And, what happened to Clapton in the midst of all this? Well, I managed to save face somehow. Just don’t ask me how.

PS: I’ll write about Clapton in another post!