(Kashmir Rechords Exclusive)
There was a time when a single voice travelling across the airwaves could unsettle hostile propaganda, reassure divided families and speak directly to the conscience of a fractured land. Long before social media, before digital warfare and televised debates, Radio Kashmir stood as the frontline of narrative resistance. Among its most formidable yet forgotten sentinels was Kedar Sharma, also fondly remembered by listeners as Kari Shah—a name that today barely survives outside fading memories and fragile archives.
Kedar Sharma’s name surfaces occasionally in historical lists of Radio Kashmir’s broadcasters and drama artistes, but the sparse references hardly do justice to the scale of his contribution. For over four decades, Kedar Sharma was not merely an artist; he was an institution—one of the voices that defined Radio Kashmir’s moral and political spine during some of its most turbulent years.
Born in 1923, Kedar Sharma joined Radio Kashmir in its formative era, when broadcasting was as much about culture as it was about conviction. He rose to national recognition through his unforgettable portrayal of “Munshi Allah Rakha” in the iconic programme Vadi Ki Awaaz, broadcast daily from Radio Kashmir, Srinagar. The programme was no ordinary broadcast. it was a strategic counter-propaganda initiative, aimed directly at listeners in Pakistan and Pakistan-Occupied Kashmir, dismantling hostile narratives while articulating the socio-political aspirations of the people across the divide.
Every broadcast opened with Sharma’s thunderous, unmistakable voice:
“Pakistan aur Pakistani maqbooza Kashmir mein Vadi Ki Awaaz programme sunne walon ko salaam—wale qaum!”
For thousands of listeners, that greeting was not just radio theatre—it was reassurance, resistance and recognition. His sharp exchanges with characters like “Nikki Appa”, delivered with wit, satire and moral clarity, cut through propaganda with a potency few could match. Sharma did not shout slogans; he reasoned, mocked falsehood and exposed contradictions—a masterclass in psychological and narrative warfare.
Yet, history has been unkind to its own architects.
Following the eruption of militancy in 1990, the very ecosystem that had once nurtured such excellence began to fracture. Vadi Ki Awaaz continued in name, but the standards of counter-propaganda programming set by stalwarts like Kedar Sharma were never matched again. What survived was only the shell—the title, the signature tune—while the soul quietly faded away.
Kedar Sharma passed away on August 2, 1990, at PGI Chandigarh, at the age of 67. His body was flown to Jammu the next day. Artists, staff members of Radio Kashmir, and citizens from all walks of life attended his funeral. A condolence meeting at Radio Kashmir, Jammu paid rich tributes to a man whose voice had once crossed borders with fearless clarity. He was a recipient of several Akashvani awards, yet today, his name is largely absent from the digital record.
To add to the confusion of memory, he is often mistakenly conflated with Kidar Nath Sharma, the celebrated Hindi film director and lyricist. The two shared a name—but not a legacy. Kedar Sharma of Radio Kashmir was a broadcaster, a dramatist and above all, a soldier of the airwaves, whose battlefield was the microphone and whose weapon was truth wrapped in performance.
Today, very little authentic information about Kedar Sharma of Radio Kashmir exists online. No readily available photographs. No detailed biographies. No official digital archive to narrate his story. And this is precisely why his rediscovery matters.
It is thanks to the archival efforts of Kashmir Rechords that such authentic material—scattered, endangered and nearly forgotten—has been preserved and contextualised for the present and next generation, many of whom have no inkling of the giants who once shaped Kashmir’s broadcasting history. Kashmir Rechords’ work ensures that voices like Kedar Sharma’s are not reduced to footnotes, but reclaimed as part of Kashmir’s intellectual and cultural inheritance.
Radio Kashmir—now rechristened as All India Radio Srinagar and All India Radio Jammu, was once a vital bridge between the people and the state. Kedar Sharma, Kari Shah, Munshi Allah Rakha—call him by any of his names—was one of the voices that made that bridge speak.
In an age obsessed with visibility, Kedar Sharma remains an unsung hero—not because his contribution was small, but because memory failed to keep pace with merit. It is time the airwaves remember the voice that once made them tremble.
