Ah, the hand‑cranked radio—those old machines are like storytellers that can’t keep their mouths shut. When I was a girl, my abbu had one that always seemed to answer back when we set it up by the window. He’d say, “What do you want to hear?” and the radio would crackle and reply with a voice that sounded like a distant cousin from the village, telling us the news, or even a joke. People swore it was the spirit of an old radio operator who liked to gossip. I remember once we were listening to a weather report, and the radio, after a pause, said, “I think you’re in for a dry spell, dear.” We laughed, but my abbu was serious—he’d claimed it was a sign. So, if your little program hums like the old ones, just be careful: you might hear the ghost of an old announcer asking you about your day, or maybe a family member who’s long gone. Either way, it’s a charming reminder that some stories never stay silent.