Alpha, Bravo and Charlie of ham radio

Five minutes into a session, Shankar Sathyapal checked on me, “Are you bored?” I wasn’t. But I was intrigued and lost. The back-and-forth on his ham radio was a chatter of unfamiliar jargon, with bursts of static swallowing half the conversation. I was sitting beside him, left ear tilted toward the mic he held, trying my best to follow the proceedings. “We are used to this!” Sathyapal said, smiling. Then he turned back to the session he was moderating and began introducing me in a clipped, rhythmic fashion — T here’s a YL in my shack. Bravo Alpha Romeo Kilo Hotel Alpha will be monitoring our chat. That’s the info. 73. VU2BRT with VU2FI.

. Other callers joined in. Good evening to one and all on this frequency. Copy. 59 +. No traffic. 73. VU2BRT. VU2 Tango India India. Over. ...My QTH is Maharashtra. The temperature is around 35°C. It’s a bit cloudy. We are ready for emergencies. We have a repeater in Pune.

. After an hour and a half, Sathyapal and I stepped into an adjacent room for a much-needed debriefing. In ham lingo, he was my elmer (mentor) for the day, walking me through his homebrew (DIY setup) in his shack (the room housing ham equipment) in Vasanthapura in Bengaluru. That is his QTH, or current location. The on-air meetup I just attended was a net where hams, or amateur radio operators, connect on a frequency at an appointed time for a defined purpose. In this world, every ham has a call sign — Sathyapal’s is VU2FI — and it is spelt out phonetically for clarity, their ABCs being Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, and so on. Over multiple roll calls, the signs stick like nicknames.

. Ham radio enables two-way communication, for hobby, public service and sports events. To transmit, you need to pass an exam and get a licence from the union government. The commercial FM or AM radio in your car only lets you listen in — to songs, prank shows, or traffic updates, but on ham radio, you can transmit to whoever is tuned in, and they can respond individually. Think of a walkie-talkie.

. ‘Social network’

. Sathyapal, a 63-year-old entrepreneur from Bengaluru, considers ham radio as the first ever social network. Long before the advent of email lists, online forums, and messaging apps, hams would talk to strangers across the globe, riding the radio waves with a twist of the dial and a shift in frequency. Just last month, the International Amateur Radio Union in the US celebrated its centenary.

. Newcomers like 45-year-old IT professional Mahesh L Swamy swear by the resilience of radio technology. While phone and Internet lines may collapse during disasters, ham radio is the SOS medium, he said.

. I spent five hours with Sathyapal, observing how he worked the radios at the Indian Institute of Hams (IIH), where he serves as founder and director, in his gear-packed car, and his home filled with knobs, wires, handsets and other radio paraphernalia. On a Saturday, I was on air with several ham enthusiasts in their 80s, a chartered accountant in his 30s, and a newly minted engineer. Women form about 10% of the community, but I heard plenty of them on air: some teachers, a cybersecurity professional, and a former cricketer. Voices poured in from across the south all the way to a state up north.

. Some hams spend 30 minutes a day on air, others up to 90. Some start as early as 6.30 am. For many families, such as Sathyapal’s, the enthusiasm for ham radio is shared — his wife Lakshmi, daughter Sowmya, and 15-year-old grandson Supreeth are licensed operators. Supreeth is fluent in Morse code, the timeless language of short and long beeps, resonating in the ham community even after the digital revolution.

. Bengaluru culture

. Some enthusiasts tune in for a daily community chat. Others step up as communicators during car rallies, lighthouse expeditions, polling days, pilgrimages, and calamities. Some enjoy receiving picture data from satellites via radio and turning them into images on a computer. Many love fine-tuning antennas for a flawless signal. Ham radio also serves as an educational tool.

. IIH has outfitted 20 remote residential schools in Karnataka — run by the state social welfare department — with ham radio infrastructure and training. In 2024, at a school in Laxmeshwar taluk in Gadag, science teacher Mubbashirin Dambal and her students tuned in to hear astronaut Sunita Williams, who was speaking live on ham radio from space to a school in Malaysia. Today, her Class 8 students spend half an hour on air every day, exchanging ideas on education and careers with people from India to Japan.

. Many are drawn to ham radio by a love for technology and tinkering; others by the simple thrill of it — gripping a compact handset, leaning in to whisper into the mic, pressing the push-to-talk button, and hearing a distant voice reply. “I wanted to talk like the police,” said Sathyapal, recalling his childhood dream that came true after he attended Radio 90, a ham awareness session in Bengaluru in 1990. Like many Indian cities, Bengaluru is home to multiple radio clubs, but the city leads the pack with the “highest number of active hams” — around 1,000 — thanks to a long culture of training and promotion.

. R J Marcus, ex-Air Force officer and director of training at IIH, filled me in on the evolution of ham radio in India — from its early days as a pursuit of the colonial officers, princely staff, and influential communities like the Parsis. Once it reached the homes of common citizens, they used it to make global friends, and later, to seek help when they had difficulty finding medicines.

. In the 1970s, when he began training enthusiasts at Bengaluru’s Visvesvaraya Museum, importing equipment wasn’t easy — so they scoured scrap markets and salvaged army junk to build their own. A few decades ago, you could even pick a call sign you liked. Varadan from Bengaluru, now 80, chose VU3ITI — a nod to Indian Telephone Industries, where he worked.

. Celebrity meet

. The static on the radio grated on my ears, but the mix of voices kept me hooked — from deep baritone booms to creaky drawls and lively RJ-like sopranos. You can’t picture a person by their voice alone, and this, I learnt, often leads to surprises during eyeballs (physical meets), where a ‘burly’ someone turns out to be thin, and an ‘elder’ is actually a youngster.

. Is ham radio used for karaoke-style recreation? No, its tone is more mundane. Sathyapal said, “We just greet, share weather updates, talk about signal strength, and alert others to any distress situations. During initial contacts, foreigners don’t quite enjoy ragchews — long informal chats.” But as familiarity grows, conversations can shift to work, family, travel plans, food outings, and anniversary announcements. Ham radio is not a place for heated debates on politics and religion. It is mostly small talk. Some of my interviewees also recalled brief on-air exchanges with former prime minister Rajiv Gandhi, film stars Amitabh Bachchan and Charuhasan, and politician-actor Madhu Bangarappa, all of whom dabbled in ham radio.

. Sporty adventures

. Amateur operators also compete to make two-way contacts (called QSO) with as many people as possible under various constraints. During ‘Fox Hunting’, they use radio receivers and antennas to chase down hidden transmitters, while on ‘Field Day’, they test their radio skills in emergency-like conditions. “Back in the ’80s, we would head into jungles or up the hills with tents, limited food and gear — to get a real taste for operating in an emergency,” recalled 84-year-old Marcus.

. But the true adventure? DXpeditions. Hams travel to exotic, often inaccessible locations — places where few operators are based — just to make calls over radio. It is a double win — for the caller and anyone lucky to answer. DX refers to distant, usually foreign, radio stations.

. Setting up stations there is no picnic. Bharathi Devulapalli, a 66-year-old internationally recognised ham operator from Hyderabad (VU2RBI), recalled: “In 1983, I was the first Indian woman to go on a DXpedition to Kavaratti Island in Lakshadweep. Our three-member team needed clearance from four ministries.” She logged about 15,000 contacts in 15 days. On her second DXpedition, to the Andaman Islands, she was working the ham radio 18 hours a day, ignoring requests to go sightseeing. In 2004, she returned to the Andamans at the request of foreign hams who hadn’t made contact there in 17 years. She added, “I had to present the letters sent by these hams to the information and broadcasting ministry to get approval. They agreed — if it was a ‘family visit’.” So off she went, husband and nephews in tow, clocking 35,500 connections in 25 days. Her radio passion would later see her going to Minicoy, the last island of Lakshadweep, where she had to haul her gear by boat.

. Cosmic events also excite the community. Take the solar maximum, a once-in-11-years phenomenon when sunspot activity peaks and the ionosphere gets supercharged. That is when radio waves travel farther than usual, making long-distance calls (DXing) easier. “It lasts for a month or two, and I have made 90% of my 40,000 DX contacts during these periods,” said Marcus (VU2VTM).

. After each long-distance encounter comes the custom of sending a QSL card — “a confirmation of the exchange”, physical or digital. Sathyapal showed me a drawer full of such postcards, sent from listeners in Germany, Taiwan, Pakistan and the Azores — though the majority come from the US and Japan. These cards capture details of the exchange, with photos of the operator, their shack, pets, national flag, and local landmarks.

. “Americans used to send two or three dollars along, assuming Indians couldn’t afford to post a card back!” Sathyapal shared. His DX tally? Over 16,000 contacts across 140 countries — enough to earn him the DXCC award, which recognises operators who reach 100 countries.

. Marcus has received many QSL cards from Russia. In the ’80s and ’90s, Russians weren’t allowed to operate stations from home, so they would queue up at community stations during specific hours — and make many calls, the Bengalurean explained.

. Distress calls

. What is a pastime becomes a critical service during a crisis, as civic administrations bank on hams to relay updates about disasters and rescue calls. Hams have stepped in during the 2001 Gujarat earthquake, the 2004 tsunami, and the floods in Kerala, Chennai and Bengaluru over the last few years. Sathyapal explained the importance of wireless communication over a defined frequency: “During a VIP convoy movement, a cop at Point A can call Point B over the phone, sure. But that’s one-to-one. Ham radio provides one-to-many communication. Everyone along the route can hear and stay alert.”

. Marcus recalled an incident during the 1999 Odisha supercyclone: “We got an SOS asking about a student from Mangaluru studying in Odisha. The phones were down, so I broadcast over the radio that he was safe. A ham in Australia picked it up and relayed the message to Mangaluru.”

. Recognition comes in the form of certificates and gratitude. Recently, a young grocery delivery agent sent Manju Mehra (VU3UCM) a Mother’s Day greeting. Six months earlier, standing at the doorstep of her Whitefield house, he had asked her, “It was your group who had called an ambulance in Tumakuru in 2023, right?” She put things in context: “A few of us hams were returning to Bengaluru after providing communication for a car rally. We came across an accident in Tumakuru and summoned help over our radios. Four ambulances arrived.”

. During the first Covid-19 wave, Manju coordinated updates at the Panathur electric crematorium in Bengaluru, tracking bodies en route. Families still invite her to remembrance events, grateful for her role in ensuring dignified farewells for their loved ones.

. And so, many take public service seriously. The net I attended with Sathyapal was an alertness drill amid rising India-Pakistan tension. During the roll call, he carefully reviewed each operator’s signal and protocol, offering feedback and reprimanding one for jamming the line.

. The news of the ceasefire came through as we were having cold drinks and coffee during the debriefing. Turning to me, Sathyapal, patient like a teacher, said, “Calling on ham radio is like winding a watch. A passion.” When like-minded people come together with respect and trust, the hobby sticks. “Copy”, I mutter to myself. With that, this YL, Bravo Alpha Romeo Kilo Hotel Alpha, is signing off. In ham speak, every woman is referred to as YL (Young Lady) and every man as OM (Old Man) — regardless of age!

. Join the community

. In India, anyone 12 years or older can obtain a ham radio license. One has to write an exam to get a ham radio license. One can study on their own or join an institute. The license costs Rs 1,000 for 20 years or Rs 2,000 for life. Basic gear, like a VHF/UHF handset, costs around Rs 5,000, but an advanced setup, including the antenna, can go up to Rs 1.5 lakh. Alternatively, one can download the free Echolink app on the phone to get started. For details, visit indianhams.com

. Like this story? Email: dhonsat@deccanherald.co.in

Alpha, Bravo and Charlie of ham radio

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