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HAVING MY SAY -Getting RadioActive. Turns out, I don't do sabbaticals.

Jul 14
5 min read

Did I say "a six-month sabbatical" from commercial radio?


That six-month break inadvertently stretched into eight years. Eight years doing stuff around radio, just not in it. Turns out, I don't actually do sabbaticals.


Which brings us to RadioActive — my serious side hustle with my partner in crime, Brian Tellis. While he was busy building Fountainhead into one of India's most successful events companies, and I was navigating life with a toddler in tow, we kept dabbling in projects on the side.

Incredibly fun projects. Some took off, some did'nt.



The Broadcast School That Almost Was


One of our earliest passion projects was ambitious by any standard: building a full-fledged Broadcast School in partnership with the Xavier Institute of Communications (XIC), Mumbai.

At the time, the radio industry was exploding. Stations were multiplying. Formats were evolving. Networks were expanding. Everyone agreed the industry needed better-trained talent.

Everyone.


Which is exactly where things got interesting.

We spent a full year doing the groundwork — research, curriculum design, industry consultations, international benchmarking. We even brought in one of the best minds in radio education, Steve Ahern, Director of Radio at AFTRS (the Australian Film Television and Radio School), whose knowledge-transfer sessions were worth their weight in gold.


The blueprint was ready. The curriculum was ready. The launch plan was ready. We were ready.Then we soft-launched. And the numbers didn't add up.


Whaaaat?


Almost every radio network we spoke to had been enthusiastic. Supportive. Encouraging. Everybody applauded the idea.

Yet when it came time to actually commit resources toward comprehensive training programmes for their own teams?


Radio silence.


An observation I've carried ever since: the industry applauds education. Few choose to fund it. Everybody complains about talent shortages, yet training remains one of the most undervalued investments in media. That was a massive learning curve for us — the expensive kind.



Pivoting Toward Impact


Fortunately, the story didn't end there. If the industry wasn't ready for a dedicated Broadcast School, we were still determined to build talent. So we pivoted.


Over the next five years, we worked closely with XIC, designing curriculum, facilitating workshops, and helping shape both the Graduate Diploma and Diploma programmes. Ironically, every now and then a former student still walks up to me in public to say thank you. It's incredibly rewarding — proof that the work mattered, even if the original plan didn't survive contact with the industry.


Around the same time, we also attempted something wonderfully idealistic: a Community College Radio Station at XIC. A self-governed student platform — student voices, student ideas, student conversations. A hotbed for nascent thought, fringe ideas, and creative experimentation.

Imagine that.

Sadly, governmental roadblocks ensured that idea never fully got off the ground.



But Another One Did


90.8 Jaago MumbaiAapka Apna Community Radio Station. Mumbai's first urban Community Radio Station. The first of many.


A highly motivated Bandra ALM (Advanced Locality Management) group, led by the charismatic Navin Chandra, wanted to build something remarkable: a platform where residents could genuinely engage with each other and with the community around them.

RadioActive came on board as consultants, trainers, programming and production system designers, and setup partners — a complete turnkey project. Resources were limited. Government regulations were stringent. Monetisation opportunities were virtually non-existent.


Naturally, we said yes.


Somewhere on the terrace of an apartment building atop Union Park hill in Khar, we built a fully operational radio station. Launch date: 1st May 2010. And what a beautiful little station it evolved into.

To navigate music copyright challenges, our playlist was entirely independent music. Our software was open source. Our budgets were modest. Our enthusiasm was limitless. Radio never sounded better.

The conversations were multilingual. Multicultural. Multidimensional. Every demographic found a place on the frequency — students, senior citizens, children, artists, sports personalities, local changemakers, Bollywood stars, the occasional A-lister.


Everyone was welcome. And people showed up.



What Community Radio Taught Me That Commercial Radio Forgets


People don't tune in for technology. They tune in for belonging. For connection. For participation. For the simple joy of hearing themselves reflected in the conversation.

At its peak, Jaago Mumbai became exactly what community radio should be: a mirror, a megaphone, a gathering place.


RadioActive played its part in successfully setting up the project. Sustaining it, however, proved considerably harder. Over the next few years, Jaago Mumbai quietly exposed several gaps in India's community radio policy framework — particularly around funding, monetisation, and long-term sustainability.


Interestingly, many of those issues have since been addressed. By 2024, the Ministry of Information & Broadcasting had introduced a range of progressive reforms for the sector: increased advertising allowances, higher ad rates, longer grant periods, operational flexibility, and a requirement for greater female participation. All excellent developments.


Sadly, they arrived a little too late for Jaago Mumbai and Bandra's brightest voices.


But the lessons remain invaluable. With a transmitter power of just 100 watts and a coverage radius of roughly 5 to 10 kilometres, Jaago Mumbai was never supposed to have much impact. Yet its ripple effects travelled far beyond its signal strength.


Perhaps that's the thing about community. You can't measure it in watts.



And Then, a Coffee


Concurrently, I was pottering around the industry — strategy development, masterclasses with Steve Ahern, music retail branding, and special projects across markets and stations including Kenya's Kiss 100, Mocha Mojo, Meow FM, Red FM, and Radio City.


Life was busy. Business was rewarding.


And then a coffee conversation with Anil Machado — an effervescent dude with a matching Afro — would change everything. What began as a casual chat would eventually evolve into a twelve-year stint with my first love.


The microphone.


 

Why This Matters to You


If you're building teams, organisations, or media brands today, here's a simple truth: talent doesn't magically appear. Somebody has to invest in creating it.

The irony is that entire industries spend years complaining about the quality of available talent while simultaneously underinvesting in training, mentorship, and education. We saw this firsthand — full enthusiasm, zero follow-through on funding.


Community radio taught me an equally important lesson. Technology matters. Platforms matter. Distribution matters. But people ultimately show up for connection. They want to belong.

Whether you're building a radio station, a company, a community, or a brand — that principle never changes.


90.8 Jaago Mumbai may have had a tiny transmitter. Its impact travelled much further than its signal ever did.


 

Next up in the series: a struggling radio station, a bold reinvention, and a twelve-year love affair called Radio One.


This is Part 3 of "Having My Say" — six essays tracing three decades across the analog-to-AI frontier of Indian broadcasting. Follow along for the rest of the series, or get in touch if you'd like to talk podcasts, sonic branding, or voice AI for your business at Loca Voca Media.


Disclaimer:


A Note on Memory, Memoir, and Occasionally Imperfect Recall


Three decades is a long time.


Names blur. Dates wander. Conversations might elevate with age. Some stories may have acquired a little more polish than they originally deserved. A few names or places may have escaped my memory entirely, while others may have suffered the occasional creative overkill.


None of that is intentional.


These essays aren't fiction, nor are they intended to be a definitive history of Indian radio. They're simply my recollection of a wonderfully chaotic journey, told through the unreliable but well-meaning lens of my memory.


To every colleague, mentor, producer, engineer, executive, intern, artist, listener and fellow troublemaker who shared any part of this adventure—thank you. If I've forgotten to mention you, blame the passage of time, not the affection.


After all, this is just a quick skim through three decades.


The full memoir would require considerably more coffee (or something stronger).

Corrections, and "actually, that's not quite how it happened" messages are always welcome in the comments. I promise to take them with grace, a little defensiveness, and absolutely zero edits to the original post.


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