Sawai Gandharva Fest – A first timer’s experience
December 15, 2008 | Filed Under Poetry, Point of View, Theatre & Movies, life's answers | 1 Comment
And I almost missed it. Thankfully there were friends around who kept talking about it and it generated enough curiosity for me to experience it. To confess I hadn’t heard about the festival before, there had been passing mentions of it in my life earlier, particularly by a friend called Vishakhadutt, but nothing had prepared me for it. I was amazed.
For those who don’t know: Sawai Gandharva is a music festival started by Pt. Bhimsen Joshi as a dedication to his guru – Sawai Gandharva. It’s now a 56 year old tradition. The greatest of musicians perform here. The genre is purely Indian classical. About 15000 people attend the festival every year, but it could be much more. The festival has grown to be larger than life. It’s also interesting to hear the conversations of people around you, they know their artists and talk about their idiosyncracies, they also know their music. It’s an experience worth taking and revisiting.
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Thank you A & H for introducing me to this.
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While there, i wrote a few music scapes. Haven’t edited them much. So execuse the mistakes.
Here they are:
During the performance of the brothers Rajan & Sajan Mishra (vocals)
The casual droning of the tanpura muffles the voices of a soulless melody that emanates from the heart and reaches the Fingertips.
God lets man supersede him at times. Reluctance of being a man falls apart. Bit by bit it becomes the beats of a tabla. Accompanying the tanpura they leave the man they occupy. They become what lesser mortals will never be.
Ants – They Crawl over what remains, releasing a sigh that grows into a moan. A moan that slowly grows wings and flies. And in its flight it meets another bird, another bird that’s emanated from dead skin, a hint of desperation and a rhetoric gone mad.
Together they fliy over a sea, a sea that has been thirsty for years. They are the bashirs of a never ending rain. But it is still far – the droplets will take their own time to come. For now there is only hope. But unlike before, this hope comes with a promise. The birds Slowly land on to the parched land. And wait in peace.
For only when war is over, will man see who he really is.
The rain will come.
During the performance of the brothers Rajan & Sajan Mishra (vocals)
The dust gathers dust
It’s been a while since someone has even been here
Centuries may be
Seth was last seen here
May be this is what he saw
And decided to be the progenitor of mankind
He too had seen hatred
brother killing brother
He Foresaw The bleakness
he also foresaw the beauty
A Beauty that
Even Methusaleh couldn’t have managed to see in all his llfetime
A beauty that would need at least a billion lives
And yet
The eyes would be hungry
The ears unsatiated
He would have to risk a hundred Kanes
Killing a billion Ables
For the few SethS
Who would assimilate this beauty
And use it
To recreate paradise
The few Seths who would die a billion times
And a hundred More…
And Survive..
During the performance of Ronu Muzumdar (flautist)
The bird soars high
Slowly but surely
Sure of What it’s doing
Sure of the eventuality
Sure of its proximity to the sun
Sure of its descent
Sure Of its eXtraordinary fate
UnKnowing of the outcome
the higher it flies
The lonelier the illusion
The emptier the arena
What it seeks?
A desert in the sKY
For its death is foretold
But its life still a mystery
During the performance of Pandit Jasraj (vocals)
An opening in the sky
A ray of light passes through
Banished from the Kingdom
It seeks to find a meaning
A meaning so ordinary
So simple
That
The puzzle is solved
But what mystifies the man whose eye it enters is the need for demystification
Thus the puzzle is passed on
Only its form changes
an incessant cooing of the cuckoo catches the man’s ear
In an attempt to find the beholder
The ray of light leaves his eyes.
It travels thru the branches of a tree
Who embraces its very being and breaks it into a million pieces
Thus the puzzle prospers
It blooms and bears pollen
Travels on the back of a bee
And discovers honey
For what it thinks is sweet death
Is but humiliation
A theft of freedom
It desires to break free once again
It counts a million moments
And then jumps into a cup reluctantly
Trying to enjoy its freedom between two cages
The last it remembers is hot water flowing over it and the gentle aroma of camomille
Which picks its burnt soul
And rises
And resuscitates it
The awakening-
The cloud opens up…
An angry demeanor hides the wisdom
And lets A ray escape
Another puzzle bears wings
A potter awaits,
the clay is wet …
Mad About Bombay
October 7, 2008 | Filed Under life's answers | 2 Comments
Id happened on Thursday and I took off for Bombay on Wednesday night.
Pune is a charming city and it has much better weather than Bombay but I will never fall in love with this city. My heart lies in Bombay. I realized it this weekend.
I went for the Strand book sale on Friday to Juhu. It was a weekday and there were hardly any people there. It was a hall filled with books and without the hustle bustle of too many people. Perfect. I spent a couple of hours browsing through the titles. I had to stretch myself at times to prevent my back and body from getting stiff. I bought a lot of books too. I am extremely excited about them. Books are the best company. I may not travel too far away from the place I was born and books are my only source of reaching worlds that I have never seen, will never see, and those that don’t even exist. As usual I have veered.
Towards the end of the book buying session, I met a friend who is recently back from studying in the US. She gifted me the book – The Film Club, which has a very interesting premise. So you see, I was feeling very rich.
We then headed for coffee at Prithvi. Sooner or later am going to take a sabbatical and spend my time sitting at the Prithvi cafe writing. Unlike other cafes it doesn’t have artificial noise and there is a constant colour about the place. At the cafe we spoke about a particular idea that I had for project10tothe100.com. I may never end up putting it on Google but interesting perspectives were shared and questions raised.
Post coffee I dropped my friend home, and after dropping her as I was returning home in the car, I realized how much Bombay is ingrained in me. How familiar the roads are, how in spite of sitting in an airconditioned car, I could feel the air of the city. How the radio made me feel with the vibe of the city. There was nothing foreign about it.
The car I was driving – the black wagon R – the family car, it was beautifully responding to my touch. I have driven it extensively and have fond memories of it. That drive back took me back to the numerous times I have been in the car on the Bombay roads. Driving on the western express highway, or through the sahar airport, or in the lanes of juhu or crossing the dreaded saki naka – it all seemed so much fun. And everything outside seemed so picture perfect, especially after I had muffled the outside sound with the airconditioning. I was in a happy bubble.
The rest of the weekend was as good, catching up with friends, spending time with folks. Saturday lunch was had at a place called Banana Leaf at 4 bungalows, good south indian food. The best part of it was the dessert called Gadbad. Nice restaurant but be warned that the quantity is huge and is tough for one person to finish it.
Am back in Pune now. Like I said it has its charms, but this city has no reason to love me.
I Am the Walrus
August 30, 2008 | Filed Under Point of View, beatles, confessions, life's answers | 4 Comments
When we woke up in the early 1950s we had a dream. A dream of shaping India into a beautiful country once again. But when we focus on trying to make it better, we forget about the demons that we house.
We did most things right but we ignored the demons. The demons came back strongly and today we are back in turmoil. We have constantly been manipulated by political parties for THEIR power struggle. What is it about wanting to rule the country that makes them do vicious things? What have they become?
Gandhi failed to see these demons. It was probably his biggest failure. Even Batman of Dark Knight failed to see these demons.
These demons build in a false sense of patriotism within us. This patriotism is sometimes of the country and sometimes of religion. They look into history books and pick out topics and point to us about some gross injustice that has happened ages ago. We can’t then think. Our sanity is lost and we are ready to die or kill. They have been extremely successful over the years.
Every day we build relationships, with friends and people around us. So much of effort goes in making this relationship happy and meaningful. You begin to start accepting the culture differences, in fact even valuing them. The foods they cook, the clothes they wear. The add so much value. But then we forget all that… as soon as an old grave is dug out. We become monsters.
Are we just trying to be politically correct then. Do we still feel that it is ‘Us’ and ‘Them’ and the twain shall never meet? Are we just tolerating each other?
India as a democracy let’s you think and practice what you want to. But why does a rightist philosophy have to mean that we only care about people of our religion? Isn’t Hinduism or Islam in its truest principle as socialist as it can get? Why do the communist parties believe that if we don’t all progress together we must not progress at all. A lazy communist and a religious fanatic are almost in the same league I would say. It’s just a question of which side of the river they are born on.
And yet, today… there are many people amongst us who see these demons. Who fight them everyday. It’s a silent revolution of sorts. Their numbers are not very large and their thoughts and ideas are too simple for people to take seriously. They do not carry flags or have agendas. They do not sport beards or rudrakshs, or even if they do, it does not characterize them. The change they are looking to bring will not happen overnight, it might not happen ever. They may get disillusioned and retract in their shell. They are after all humans. Yes they are humans and they never forget that.
I was talking earlier about ‘Us’ & ‘Them’ thing. A very interesting incident happened to me recently. I was in a rickshaw. And the rickshaw driver was wearing a skull cap, it was easy to say he was muslim. Though there was no way for him to know I was one too. I stirred up a conversation with him and asked him if there was something like the Mohammedali road food extravanza that happens during Ramzan in Pune, during Ramzan. He started telling me about where I would get these things. And then guilelessly he said that there you will find more people like ‘you’ than people like ‘us’. It was fun to talk to another muslim like i was a hindu. We still had great conversation.
I have never been a Hindu or a Muslim in the sense the world views them. But I am both. I am also a socialist. I love the agnostics and even the antheists. Communism has its own charm for me. And it should be noted that being Muslim, I have subscribed to everyone from Adam to Noah to Moses to Jesus to Mohammed. Of course I am an Indian, a Maharashtrian, a Bombaiya, a Punekar. I can go on for days not eating onion, garlic, potato, or killing cockroaches. I am complete believer of peace and non-violence.
I do not believe these are exclusive clubs. For me everyone is ‘Us’ but strangely the way life has played out, most people will categorize me as ‘Them’. Not everyone though.
Here’s something interesting -
From wikipedia – Lennon composed this song by combining three songs he had been working on. When he learned that a teacher at his old primary school was having his students analyse Beatles’ lyrics, he added a verse of nonsense words.
If the teacher comes to me, I will be able to tell him what the song exactly means. Here’s a snippet from the lyrics….
I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.
…….I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo g’joob.