Between static and belonging: The impact of Radio Masti 96.3, now Radio Masti 24x7, a part of Masti Media Network Singapore

If you grew up speaking or learning a South Asian language in Singapore, it is likely that you would have come across MediaCorp’s Masti 96.3 at some point. The 5-8pm radio station was a familiar presence in many households, dedicated to music and programmes in Hindi, alongside other foreign languages, each a part of the frequency XFM 96.3.

I began writing this article with one goal, and one goal only: to ensure that its impact was not merely something we had all collectively hallucinated. I was right. Most of my Hindi-speaking and Hindi-understanding peers remembered the existence of this show, but for the life of them, could not actually explain why they no longer heard it anywhere.

Today, the station continues its journey in a transformed, new-age digital avatar. Rebranded as Radio Masti 24x7, it now operates entirely online as Singapore’s first live digital Hindi radio station dedicated to the SEA community. Streaming 24/7 through its app, the station continues to deliver round-the-clock entertainment with dedicated Radio Jockeys and nonstop programming.

In addition, the platform has expanded into the visual space with the launch of MastiAVI–  Audio Visual Interactive shows accessible through the app. This innovative platform allows audiences to watch and interact live with hosts and guests on screen, while also participating in fun games, contests, and much more.

I had the opportunity to sit down with Founder Director and Celebrity Host, Ms Renuka Arora Bhagat and Programming Chief, Ms Antara Roy Sen, to learn more about the platform’s  cultural impact, its loyal following, and the reasons behind its sudden disappearance from FM airwaves in 2016.

Ms Renuka giving me a demonstration on what an average day behind the mic looks like

Me doing the same, a little less professionally

Based inside a cosy office unit in Ubi, the live technologically impressive radio studio functions with a warmth that feels far larger than the space it occupies. There are no grand studio lights or sprawling production floors, just a small team bound together by purpose, passion, and an unwavering belief that their listeners still need them. The microphones may have changed platforms, but the heartbeat of Masti remains the same.

For many in Singapore’s Indian and South-East Asian diaspora, Masti was never just a radio station. It was the sound of home in a place far from home. It was the familiar rhythm of Hindi classics playing in the kitchen, Punjabi hits brightening a taxi ride, Bengali conversations drifting through living rooms, and cheerful presenters whose voices became part of everyday life. For families navigating life between cultures, Masti offered comfort, belonging, and a reminder that their languages and stories mattered. The art of an engaging host speaking to a listener whose first language was not one of the four on national radio is one that truly cannot be replicated.

When the station was announced to be taken off FM airwaves due to changes in government policies, the news came as a shock not only to listeners, but to the presenters themselves. For listeners, it felt like losing a familiar companion. For the hosts, it meant suddenly being separated from a community they had spoken to every single day.

Ms Renuka shared that the team had very little time to respond– just three months to either transition or shut down operations. While broadcasters in other language segments chose the latter, Masti took the bold step of embracing Singapore’s #DigitalNation vision and went on to establish Singapore’s first private live digital radio station. 

At a time when digital radio was far from mainstream, the team took a bold leap of faith by moving online and launching Radio Masti 24x7. Their determination reflected a deep understanding that what they had built was far more than just entertainment- it was a vital source of identity, belonging, and connection for the community. Notably, the next station to make a similar move was the popular Power 98, which transitioned away from traditional FM broadcasting in October 2025.

The purpose of continuing Masti as the unique and niche station in Singapore became even clearer during the Covid-19 pandemic. As migrant workers across Singapore endured long periods of isolation in dormitories, Radio Masti 24x7 stepped in with programmes designed to comfort, inform, and uplift. Establishing the visual platform during such challenging times, along with launching Bengali programming to connect more deeply with the migrant worker community during a period of national crisis, remains one of the team’s proudest achievements to this day. Through music, dedications, heartfelt conversations, family connections across borders, informative, educating and uplifting messages, the station became a source of comfort and companionship during profoundly lonely times.

For workers separated from their families and uncertain about when they would return home, hearing familiar languages on air, interacting with the reassuring faces of the jockeys, participating in mental wellness sessions, and sharing their thoughts and talents on screen brought a sense of dignity, warmth, positivity, and genuine human connection.

Gobsmacked by the work unfolding behind the scenes, I sat in that studio, struck by the fact that this team was still leading with purpose despite the many hurdles thrown their way. A lack of acknowledgement, support, funding and a whole lot of chaos later, its team refuses to let up. I honestly wondered why one would put themselves through such an ordeal, such an indescribably difficult task to conquer each day of pondering on the survival of a once highly-raved passion project. Why endure the uncertainty? 

The answer was simple. While it may be difficult for some readers to fully comprehend this, Radio Masti represented one of the very few cultural points of contact and forms of representation available to many South Asians growing up in Singapore. Today, as the only live Hindi audio and visual platform across South-East Asia, it continues to connect minority communities while helping migrants embrace Singapore as home– a contribution that is yet another reason for the nation to take pride. 

I went to a local school, so more often than not, the occasional question of, “What are you?” would come up, leaving me dumbfounded and armed with very few points of reference. It was never as simple as responding with, “Indian”, because the varieties were so much more complex than just that. Yet, I knew that at the end of each day, as a kid who spent the vast majority of my primary and secondary school life navigating my identity, wondering if I was “too Singaporean” or “too Punjabi” for different demographics, Radio Masti would be blasting through the old radio my parents kept in the corner of the kitchen from 5 to 8pm. It was how I learnt conversational Hindi, and how I kept up with the newest Bollywood songs of the era. I would honestly argue that this small window of each day was one of the only things that kept the people around me going. 

At this point, I think it is important to address the elephant in the room. As a Singaporean myself, and that too, a fourth-generation one, I know for a fact that matters of identity can be a sensitive topic for some. I will tread lightly here, though admittedly with the grace of someone tiptoeing through a room full of steel Thalis. The show was intended to be an expatriate frequency, and still is. Beautifully and funnily enough, it spoke to South Asians who had been in Singapore for a number of generations as well. We did not necessarily have diverse representation in the media, and our identities were often simplified into a single narrative, with Indian communities in Singapore frequently assumed to be represented solely through Tamil-speaking shows on TV and classes in school. 

In this day and age, Indians and South Asians in Singapore are still often subjected to racism, with the occasional derogatory remark making its way into viral videos online. The divide has never felt more pronounced, particularly because of the relentless and frankly exhausting need for antagonisers to decide who is ‘foreign’ and who is not.

But perhaps that is exactly why platforms like Masti matter so much. They remind us that belonging is not always neatly handed to us by institutions, nor is it always reflected in mainstream media. Sometimes, belonging is found in the sound of a familiar song, in a dialect your grandparents spoke, in a joke only your community understands, or in a Radio Jockey who makes you feel seen without ever having met you. Sometimes belonging is looking for the same blood that runs in all of us– whether we were here first or later, we came from the same places.

Literally starstruck

So where can we find Masti’s music, voices, and shows now? There is an app– Radio Masti 24x7- because, of course, there is an app for almost everything these days. I say this in the hope that we, as a tech-savvy generation, recognise how important it is to strike a balance between preserving the cultural touchstones that ground us and ensuring they remain accessible in modern forms.

“It’s sometimes difficult to convince people that an app can be live and just as seamless and a part of everyday life. In fact, it can give you so much more at the click of a button than a traditional radio frequency,” Ms Renuka shared. Ironically, I find myself agreeing with her. Yet, there is something quietly reassuring about knowing that this piece of cultural memory now lives within our devices. If anything, having to tap a screen feels like a small price to pay for keeping the warmth, familiarity, and spirit of Masti alive. 

Radio Masti, now a part of Masti Media Network’s story is about a community that refused to go unheard. It is about the quiet resilience of voices that continued speaking, singing, laughing, connecting, contributing and comforting long after the frequency was forced to go silent. 

For those of us who grew up with it, Masti was the background noise amidst a pressure cooker whistling, or a drive home where your parents were singing along in a language you didn’t have access to in school. It was proof that we existed in more than one mother tongue, more than one culture, and more than one version of what it means to be Singaporean. 

Maybe that is why, even after all these years, its absence from the radio still feels personal. My takeaway from this is that when a frequency becomes home, you do not simply stop listening. You remember. You transform. You adopt. You belong.