Delhi-NCR Repeater: Hopes from the Tower

 Voices carry far across the city

Delhi’s airwaves recently got a taste of real power. High above Noida, the World Trade Tower repeater came alive and showed what happens when height, technology and timing meet. At nearly the level of a 45-storey building, the signals spilled effortlessly across the NCR. Delhi, Gurgaon, Faridabad, Noida and Ghaziabad stations jumped in with handheld radios, many surprised how easily they triggered it. Some even reported clean contacts from Meerut.

I had planned to write about this repeater long back. But speed breakers like the endless shift of ham licences to the DoT portal got in the way. I wrote about that ordeal in another piece, Lost in Saral Sanchar.

Delhi-NCR's repeater rises high at WTT

The repeater was first installed during Delhi’s mega disaster rehearsal with hams taking the air. It ran on VU2DLR’s frequency 145.60 MHz with a Motorola rig and a Diamond antenna. For hours, traffic was heavy yet stable, a rare delight. I described parts of that rehearsal in my earlier blog Sirens, Signals & Static Joy.

When hobby meets high-rise – Delhi NCR’s ham signals in style

When the rehearsal ended, the experiment began. Hams tried it with both handies and mobile base stations. Normally, most would use the full 25 to 50 watts of RF power. But with WTT, they could trigger it easily at just minimum settings – some even half a watt. The community was thrilled. One ham even joked, “Great, we’re not polluting the atmosphere with unnecessary RF.” It was a rare mix of humour and technical joy. Old handy talkies were dusted off, base stations fired up. Many whispered: “Our repeater has come back stronger.”

But the magic did not last. The repeater was soon pulled down with a promise it would return permanently at the same spot on WTT by Diwali.

Flashback: Vigyan Prasar’s VU2DLR days

For many years before this, the VU2DLR repeater had been Delhi’s lifeline. Run by Vigyan Prasar, it gave hams seamless contact across NCR. In winters, signals would travel farther and we had regular QSOs with Punjab, Agra and beyond. But by 2022, cracks showed. The repeater stayed on air but lacked care. After a few check-ins, it would develop a continuous knocking sound that made it useless. Soon, news of its decommissioning came, followed by a short WhatsApp message from its custodian. The community felt orphaned.

The closure of Vigyan Prasar in October 2023 added salt to the wound. For more than 30 years, it had promoted science and communication in India. And yet, the same government that talks of digital revolutions and science-based progress quietly shut it down, citing NITI Aayog’s cost-cutting advice. An institution that cost little, yet gave so much, was dismantled. Many in the scientific community still see it as a step backward.

Delhi does have other repeaters, like the advanced VHF VU2FUN and UHF VU2HUB, privately run by two enterprising brothers. They play globally via Echolink and DMR, and enjoy steady check-ins. But on the RF side, their reach has limits. Even high-gain antennas struggle to pick them up, unlike the Vigyan Prasar repeater which could be triggered almost effortlessly.

This is why so many Delhi hams keep their rigs idle. VHF and UHF radios are cheaper and easier to install than HF rigs, yet they remain unattractive without a strong repeater. The absence of one is the biggest reason why two meters often sounds like silence.

I have visited several cities, monitored repeaters during nets and casual ragchew. Delhi still has some of the best speakers I’ve heard on air. Their serious talk sprinkled with humour can make even a casual listener smile. But to hear them, we need an efficient repeater.

It is ironic that the national capital, with its tech hubs, top institutes, universities and political elite, cannot boast of a strong repeater network. India's young Prime Minister, Rajiv Gandhi,  VU2RG, once championed amateur radio and fought for lower import tariffs. Sadly, after him, his family, Sonia Gandhi (VU2SON), Priyanka Gandhi Vadra (VU2PGY) and even his friend Amitabh Bachchan (VU2AMY), did not pick up where he left. I only hope all three managed to migrate their licences to Saral Sanchar. If not, maybe someone should give them a reminder – it might even refresh their interest and give the ham world a boost.

The tower fades, but voices remain

As Diwali approaches, Delhi hams look once more towards the shining tower in Noida. The World Trade Tower repeater gave us a glimpse of what NCR can sound like when airwaves unite. One repeater, one signal, hundreds of voices carried across the city. May it return soon, stronger and brighter. That's all it takes to make the airwaves sing again.

Follow/Subscribe   TimesView Blogspot

Lost in Saral Sanchar

Licence Migration or A Bureaucratic Trap?

All my regular work collapsed the moment I saw that Department of Telecommunication Office Memorandum. It landed like a brick on my desk two weeks ago. I had my deadlines set, my plans neat and clear, but this notice pulled the plug. Suddenly my life was not about writing or work, but about surviving the Saral Sanchar portal.

The memorandum, dated 11 March 2025, ordered all licensed ham operators to migrate their certificates to this sparkling new online system before 15 September 2025. A clean digital push, they said. In reality, it was like asking us to wade through a swamp with leeches tied to our legs.

I saw the circular in a WhatsApp ham group. Oddly enough, the discussions there were muted. Maybe people were already too tired to rant.

Ham radio is no joke. It has been a lifeline in floods, quakes, cyclones. When phones die and networks collapse, ham operators keep authorities connected. No money, no perks. Pure service. And now, the very community that serves in crisis is itself in crisis,  thanks to a half-baked portal.

I logged in. Made an account. Took a quick glance at the migration tab. It looked like a puzzle dumped on a child. I still tried. Failed. Then flagged my frustration to fellow hams. Messages poured in. Some confused, some angry, some downright hilarious. “Why migrate at all?” one asked. “It’s tedious, I won't migrate,” groaned another. Someone said they managed to upload but were told to resubmit. Another gem: “Only Aadhaar needs attestation by a gazetted officer.”

Then came the manuals. One was 20 pages, the other 39. So apparently, to move my licence from one digital shelf to another, I must first pass an exam in patience and eyesight.

It wasn’t just me. Many were shaken, stuck, lost. Some tried helping others through remote screen-sharing. Some behaved like self-appointed WPC officers, flaunting their “cheat sheets” on WhatsApp. They were helpful until arrogance starts. A comedy show, but with more tears than laughs.

I reached out to the help desk. Their replies were slower than snail mail. And useless. Templates copied and pasted. Nothing addressed my problem. The portal itself was clunky, cryptic, allergic to common sense. No tooltips, no guidance, just endless trial and error. At one point, I begged them to delete my account so I could restart.

And then came the monster called attestation. Out of nowhere, hams were told to run behind gazetted officers to stamp Aadhaar cards. When the government itself says self-attestation is fine, why this madness? Why drag us back to the days of stamps and seals? To prove we exist, again and again?

Anyone who has tried approaching a gazetted officer knows the drill. Excuses, delays, smirks. I even recalled an old story. Years ago, when MTNL asked for attested IDs, I approached my uncle, a senior government officer. His reply? “How do I know you’re not a criminal?” I shot back: “I didn’t come for a character certificate. Your job is to match photocopy with the original and sign.” He finally did, after the drama. That’s what attestation culture looks like. Power, not purpose.

Meanwhile, other government services are years ahead. When I renewed my driving licence in Delhi, Aadhaar OTP was enough. Fast, simple, painless. Yet for ham radio migration, we are forced to perform clerical duties that WPC staff should be doing.

Office Memorandum: Typically meant for internal govt communication, not public dissemination. Yet, used here to coerce compliance via WhatsApp groups.

There’s also the strange legal twist. The 11 March 2025 note was an Office Memorandum, meant as an internal instruction. Not even a circular for public circulation. Yet hams are being coerced into compliance. And not a single direct email or SMS to licence holders, even though WPC has our details. Instead, whispers in WhatsApp groups. A mess created out of thin air.

At one point, I almost thought of quitting amateur radio altogether. The frustration was that heavy. A hobby rooted in freedom and service is now buried under paperwork, passwords, and pointless hurdles.

Saral Sanchar was supposed to make life easier. It has only made life smaller. A portal where time dies, humour struggles to stay alive, and passion for radio drowns in bureaucracy.

I’ll keep documenting this circus. Maybe one day someone in power will read, laugh nervously, and fix it. Until then, migration feels less like a system update and more like punishment for being a ham in India.

Follow/Subscribe   TimesView Blogspot