Surreal was the only word that one could use to describe that night. The night of November 16, 2013.
On my way back home with Nupur, we both laughed at her son's obsession for Robin Van Persie and the world's most popular football club – Manchester United.
But it wasn't just the mirth or just the talk about football that made it memorable. That was the icing on the cake for me. Instead, it was an awakening of an appreciation of Indian music and dance through the performances that night that lay dormant ever since I visited my first Vasanth Habba.
Yes, it was a Hindustani classical concert organized by the Aamod Centre of Liberal Arts (also known as the Bangalore Institute of Music & Art to others) – a place we consider home to all things artistic and creative in both the Indian and Western sense.
As we made our way to the place where the concert was held, the gentle pitter-patter of rain only suggested that for those who did attend the concert – it added just that little bit more. Of surrealism, if you will...
Regardless of the technical snafus that threatened to stump us all, Sreela, being as versatile as she is, had a backup plan that worked just fine and in time, for our little Kathak performers to kick start the show.
And start the show they did... ever so deftly and with grace as their little feet left their mark, if only figuratively, to the rhythm, and to a captive audience.
The pitter-patter soon turned into a steady downpour as we sat in that hall and listened to Smt. Chandasree deliver a performance that was truly mesmerizing along with her student on the tanpura as well as with Priyabrata on the tabla.
The thing is that as some of us grow older, we look back with respect as we truly begin to relate with our elders for what they've done in their time and continue to do so. For it continues to define us in the here and now... living in 'modern' India! As we shuffle our feet in making the shift from the old to the new...
Speaking of which, there was no shuffling of feet – in fact, no one budged from their seats. It was a kindergarten teacher's dream come true. You could hear a pin drop, if it wasn't for the music...
And speaking of the proverbial “icing on the cake”, Nupur Chakraborty then took the stage, and broke into song if only to an audience that could barely muster a solemn encore at the end, considering the gravity of the occasion.
For some of us, the adage 'everything that is old will become new again' came to life that night. It was reaching 'full circle', if you will. Simply put, being Indian took on a whole new meaning...
Outside the one-man crew from Artea Matters, Ashok, served tea and a few snacks and Vidya, a sponsor of the event, her partner and myself spent a few moments in silence – taking it all in rather wistfully.
Tonic for the soul. A snack or two to satiate our 'lower order needs'. Definitely, a Saturday well spent. But most of all, a strong feeling of pride for being part of a culture that spans thousands of years.
Yet not forgetting that it felt so right being a part of the Aamod Centre of Liberal Arts that diligently holds fast to tradition as we find ourselves in an age where the world moves closer or for that matter, invades our living room at a moment's notice.
As Nupur and I sped away to our homes that night and as she regaled me with stories of her son's fascination for British club football, the irony wasn't lost on me.
That said, let's hope the upcoming Hindustani classical concert scheduled for February 8, 2014 at the very same venue featuring Imon Das, Nikhil Patwardhan and Partho Mukherjee begs the very question: What makes us truly Indian in these "changing times"?
On my way back home with Nupur, we both laughed at her son's obsession for Robin Van Persie and the world's most popular football club – Manchester United.
But it wasn't just the mirth or just the talk about football that made it memorable. That was the icing on the cake for me. Instead, it was an awakening of an appreciation of Indian music and dance through the performances that night that lay dormant ever since I visited my first Vasanth Habba.
Yes, it was a Hindustani classical concert organized by the Aamod Centre of Liberal Arts (also known as the Bangalore Institute of Music & Art to others) – a place we consider home to all things artistic and creative in both the Indian and Western sense.
As we made our way to the place where the concert was held, the gentle pitter-patter of rain only suggested that for those who did attend the concert – it added just that little bit more. Of surrealism, if you will...
Regardless of the technical snafus that threatened to stump us all, Sreela, being as versatile as she is, had a backup plan that worked just fine and in time, for our little Kathak performers to kick start the show.
The pitter-patter soon turned into a steady downpour as we sat in that hall and listened to Smt. Chandasree deliver a performance that was truly mesmerizing along with her student on the tanpura as well as with Priyabrata on the tabla.
Speaking of which, there was no shuffling of feet – in fact, no one budged from their seats. It was a kindergarten teacher's dream come true. You could hear a pin drop, if it wasn't for the music...
Outside the one-man crew from Artea Matters, Ashok, served tea and a few snacks and Vidya, a sponsor of the event, her partner and myself spent a few moments in silence – taking it all in rather wistfully.
Yet not forgetting that it felt so right being a part of the Aamod Centre of Liberal Arts that diligently holds fast to tradition as we find ourselves in an age where the world moves closer or for that matter, invades our living room at a moment's notice.
As Nupur and I sped away to our homes that night and as she regaled me with stories of her son's fascination for British club football, the irony wasn't lost on me.
That said, let's hope the upcoming Hindustani classical concert scheduled for February 8, 2014 at the very same venue featuring Imon Das, Nikhil Patwardhan and Partho Mukherjee begs the very question: What makes us truly Indian in these "changing times"?
No comments:
Post a Comment