Seeking Solace in Music

The past two weeks have quite harrowing for many of us. The news of neighbours, friends and acquaintances losing their fight against the novel corona virus, aggravated by a certain feeling of helplessness that comes from not being in a position to offer real help.  

It has also been a time to reconsider so many things that we take for granted. The freedom to travel and move around; the joys of camaraderie, of meeting family and friends; the mundane act of sharing a meal, of taking a deep breath. 

At a time when thousands of people are stricken with the mutated Covid-19 virus in India, desperately looking for oxygen cylinders and ventilators, the very act of painless, unhindered breathing seems like something we should savour and relish with gratitude.

Ever since the lockdowns began, I had resolved to make a habit of playing the bansuri, at least once a day. This was easier said than done because, for one thing, it has been ages since I stopped learning at the Gandharva Maha Vidyalaya, and except for occasionally picking up the bansuri to practice a familiar tune, my hands had all but lost the tactile memory of the bansuri - its weight and balance, the position of the supporting fingers, the feel of warm breath being released through the instrument as music fills the air. 

It took me a while to get back into the groove. Initially sitting still with a straight back seemed as difficult as breath control. Then there was the difficulty of scales - while my fingers could easily get around the smaller C-bansuri they just could not get a grip on the longer, heavier\ base F-bansuri. The only way forward was to get familiar with simple compositions on the C-scale before trying out more complicated ragas and compositions. 

YouTube has been a big help with its numerous channels that display the talents of accomplished musicians. Many of these cater to folks trying to play the Harmonium or the Carnatic flute, but here are some that I found particularly helpful, and can be easily adapted for the Hindustani bansuri :

* Bhooma Parthasarathi : "Thumbi Va" - https://youtu.be/29J2GZ51DvM and "Kani kaanum neram" - https://youtu.be/q0-AlGyP41s

* Musician66 :  "Zindagi kaisi he paheli.." -  https://youtu.be/gu5JYiCm3tA

* Sargam Zone:   "He Ram, he Ram.." (Jagjit Singh) - https://youtu.be/wEovN0wE8jY; "Ye raatein, ye mausam" - https://youtu.be/FdTVIZsAFHk

Now, as we enter the second round of lockdowns to cope with the "Second Wave" of Covid-19, I have been trying to build my riaz into a regular routine by focusing on two ragas - one for the pre-dawn early morning (Raga Bhairav) using the base bansuri (F scale), and one for the evening (Raga Yaman Kalyan) on a regular C. 

The morning sessions have been especially magical. Sitting on a yoga mat on the terrace facing the east, even the simple aaroh and avroh of raga Bhairav seem to be in sync with the meditative calm of early morning with its the cool breeze, flocks of birds flying high overhead, squirrels scampering about, and the gradual filling out of light in the skies. 

It takes about eight deep breaths for the sun to transform from a sliver of light to a bright orange orb breaking free into the skies. Once the sun rises over a certain level some musical notes - especially the komal Dhaivat and komal Rishabh seem out of place, as though the right moment has passed, the mood has changed. 

It is then time to set aside the bansuri and  Raga Bhairav, to cope with the world of Covid-19 once again, and all the surprises that the rest of the day will surely bring in...

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REFERENCES & LINKS

* https://swarajyamag.com/culture/the-bhairav-thaat-unexplored-ragas-associated-with-raga-bhairav

* https://swarajyamag.com/culture/the-atypical-bhairav-exploring-the-evolved-ragas-from-the-family

* Music and Emotion - a Case for North Indian Classical Music (2017) - https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fpsyg.2017.02115/full  

Laya Gana Madhura Lehari

I can’t remember the last time I sat through a concert, listening to music that gave me goose bumps.

On Thursday, I got an invitation to “Malhaar” , an event organized by ICCR at Kamani Auditorium. It was the promise of a flute recital that drew me there but the programme started with a percussion ensemble by T R Dhandapany.

I had never heard of TRD, so I was grateful for the brief introduction on his concept of “Laya Gana Madhura Lehari". A golden-yellow curtain then floated up to reveal three podiums on the stage. Set against the dark curtains, each of 12 musicians looked like gems in a Jewellery showcase. At the centre were the Mridamgams played by the maestro with his son D. Karthiknarayan. On the flanks were the artists handling Tablas, Ghatam, Phakawaj, Dholak, Kanjira, Morsing, and the Violin. All were dressed in whites except for the vocalist who was in bright purple.

Drums always surprise me. Once the rhythm gets going I find it very difficult to believe that such music is coming from mere mortals. I close my eyes and see an angry ocean and waves crashing wildly on rocky cliffs, tossing ships around like matchsticks; armies rushing headlong into battle; a nuclear explosion in time-lapse…and I open my eyes to see people I would not recognize on the streets. Unremarkable, slouchy, portly folks with glum faces that reveal no trace of the talent they hide within.

This performance was slightly different. Whenever the artists played in single or in pairs, the others would mark the rhythm with hands and fingers that played out a dance of their own, marking the talas. Eyes would sparkle and big grins would welcome every innovation or difficult patch. Every now and then a pair of dancers would float in for some Bharatanatyam and Kathak. I found the plump Kathak dancer particularly unbearable for his silly grin and the way he tossed about his hands like a rag-doll.

Anyway, the music was great.