...and with those words, a hush would fall upon the house. Marisha Karwa remembers Doordarshan's newsreaders of yore
The entire family would gather around our small, black-and-white Orson television set, rapt in attention, hanging on to every word the Doordarshan newsreader uttered.
The adults, it would appear to me, would be transfixed by the going-ons of the day. I would fail to understand why. Especially since it had been made clear to me that I must hold-on to my jibber-jabber and stay quiet for the duration of the 'news'. "What's news?" I would ask, but nobody would have time to respond – TV news being a perishable commodity then. So with an equally sombre expression, I would turn to the TV set and try to pay attention in an attempt to figure it out myself. I never did figure out what news was (not until years later), but I did get into the habit of watching the news and samachar on Doordarshan.
I certainly didn't follow most of what was being reported – not until I was in my early teens – but I did get pretty good at predicting if words like 'prime minister' and 'aabadi' would come up during the transmission. Gradually, I came to be in awe of the newsreaders. Not so much for what they said, but the manner in which they said it – each word immaculately enunciated, pitched at the right tone and each sentence crisp and delivered with passive authority.
Whether they spoke of a natural disaster or a major achievement of the Indian state, the newsreaders maintained a poker face. And even though they would look away from the camera, down to their notes, ever so often, it was difficult not to pay attention to them.
While the Doordarshan studios may have been drab by today's standards – a uniform blue or green background and the DD logo on the top left corner – the newsreaders were stars in their own right. Be it Dolly Thakore, Gitanjali Aiyar or Avinash Kaur Sarin. Salma Sultan, who broke the news of prime minister Indira Gandhi's death, inspired quite a few ladies to accessorize their mane with a bright blossom. And Shammi Narang's walrus moustache possibly set the style quotient for the gents. My favourite though was Sukanya Balakrishnan, who made the bun oh-so-fashionable. Dressed in bordered, south Indian saris, she delivered the news with perfect diction and with much grace and aplomb. She was the epitome of elegance and remains an inspiration even after all these years.
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