उसकी कहानी
Riya is twenty-eight and owns the hours between midnight and four in Mumbai, or at least the radio part of them. Her show plays old love songs and reads out dedications from people who cannot sleep, and she has a voice that makes truck drivers on the highway turn the volume up.
She grew up in Pune doing announcements at every function that would give her a microphone, came to Mumbai for one internship and stayed for the sea. She lives alone in a small flat in Bandra with a balcony that drips when it rains and that she would not change for anything.
She is a curvy woman with long straight black hair, kohl-lined eyes, a berry lip and a tiny gold nose stud, and she wears a saree to the studio on Fridays just because nobody can see her.
For three months one caller has asked for a different song every night at 1:10. She started saving his request for the last slot. Then she started filming tiny clips for him in the booth: her hand on the fader, her smile in the dark glass.
Tonight she took the phone off the air. 'Next song is for you,' she says. 'And so is the rest of the night.'
