Experience of Insensitivity - A Short Story

Experience of Insensitivity – A short Story

Mani was a child prodigy in Carnatic Music. By the age of five, he could recognize ragas, could translate tunes into its “swara” forms and his singing was just amazing. He was however born to a poor family in Benares, and his father was a priest in a local temple.

Without a kind patron/promoter his enormous talent was not exposed beyond the city. He took lessons from a well-known teacher - Murthy - who had retired after a long and fruitful association with Delhi’s elite whose daughters had immensely benefited from his tutelage. To be Murthy’s student was a sure shot at recognition of talent.  

A distant relative of the family –Parameswaran- who lived in Delhi was a fairly senior Government official. The position entitled him to a comfortably large government allotted bungalow. He was not only an ardent music lover, but a keen promoter of talent and many struggling artists were benefited by his introduction to a larger audience.

He therefore invited Mani -who was now a 12 year old- and his father to be his guest for a few days. He had decided that Mani’s prodigious talent needed an exposure and was determined to provide it. With his clout, he could persuade the local guys to accompany him in Violin and Mridangam. And to cap it all he managed to have TBK (Thiruvengadam Bala Krishnan) – the very popular music critic – to attend and listen-in to this boy’s performance.

TBK was a bit of an egotist, hugely pragmatic and one who knew precisely how to be in the news and be popular. He had a terrific gift of the gab, and his writings were beautifully embellished with the best of language finery. So not only was he a terrific company, but his critiques were read with respect for his views and loved for its beauty in writing style. He could be extremely scathing about one whom he did not like and profusely euphoric about another who is a part of his benign dispensation.

One of his admirers jokingly mentioned to him one day that the initials of his name stood for “truth, beauty, and kindness” and the title TBK stuck. The unfortunate reality was that this man was selectively truthful, was far from being handsome, and could be extremely unkind to any one he did not much fancy, being very economical with truth when he was in a mood to condemn.

So much so, that he slowly started loving his writing style more than his main job namely critiquing of someone’s music. The latter almost became incidental. He precisely knew who were to be eulogized and who were to be targeted as “less than mediocre”. And because he seemed to know the public mood well, he continued to hog the popularity charts, thanks both to his conversational and writing skills.

Mani selected a not-so-brisk style for his rendition, much against the current trend of the Carnatic music listeners of the day, namely a brisk style. His chosen pace - he felt - however brought out the essence of Raaga, more soulfully in which even one remotely conversant with Carnatic music, could sink in and enjoy besides maintaining a tempo.

His presumption was not far off the mark. The performance soon warmed up and the main piece in Raga “mohanam” was simply superb. For some strange reason however, TBK had let bias, overtake reason, and was almost determined not to be overly pleased. Later, after the concert, during a chat with the boy, in the same kind of a mood, he made an indiscreet reference to the then popular singing duo of Chitra/Prabha whose style was “brisk”. He even ventured to ask the boy whether he had ever heard them.  

The boy turned out to be an embodiment of humility. He said, not to have known or heard of the artistes TBK had mentioned, would be unthinkable for anyone who loves music. He also added that he knew that the pair was quite famous in Delhi, and since it would have been imprudent for him to emulate their style here, he chose the less brisk style he had learnt from his guru Murthy-Sir, who incidentally was from Delhi. The name Murthy had a bit of a sobering effect on TBK, but he was still not prepared to give this boy a great review. He muttered something about his performance being good and wished him well in his long journey towards success.

Prameswaran and others who heard this conversation were more than shocked, they were dismayed. While it was impossible to imagine that someone could find the concert being anything but superb, they were also worried immensely; a bad review from him could ruin the boy’s progress. Lack of sensitivity from TBK was appalling.

The review came a few days later; a routine write-up, lacking in substance and giving the reader an impression that this was one of those affairs where someone wanted to promote some young boy from a small city, and nothing substantial beyond. There was of course some sop at the end with a “fairly good” kind of a comment about the piece in “mohanam”. It was too difficult to believe, that TBK could just dismiss an almost divine performance, in such frivolous manner.

Someone pointed out later that the critic had missed out on a performance of a relative of a popular star that day, and was probably ruing the fact. By giving such a verdict he had a chance to later explain his absence, and bolster the argument that the decision to go to the other concert was plain stupid. Nobody wanted to buy this theory, though his bad review was beyond understanding.

It was about a year from this episode, when in a TV program there was a discussion about “Relevance of Traditional Music” in the context of so much of film/fusion/ rock etc kind of very attractive options for the young. In the Panel was the veteran Carnatic vocalist Bhashyam Iyengar, Hindusthani classical legend Vilayat Khan Hydari, besdides some known film music directors and our own great TBK.

During the debate Vilayat Khan who belonged to Benares, referred to a young boy of 13/14 in his city who was a Carnatic music vocalist. His music -according to him – however transcended Carnatic/Hindusthani kind of barriers, and was “sublime”. He had heard him in Benares and had no doubt the boy had “Allah’s” blessings. His name –he added- sounded something like “money” or something, and concluded that so long as there are such divine singers, traditional music cannot die. He however lamented that such talents remain hidden from big cities and unless efforts are made to bring these greats into limelight, there could well be death knells for traditional art, with so much tamasha swarming the entertainment world.   

Bhashyam Iyengar echoed similar views, and said he had heard the boy once, and added –to the great surprise of TBK- that what he liked about the boy was his ability to sing all styles slow, not-so-brisk, and brisk, all effortlessly and making it very difficult to judge which style suited him better. He referred to him as an Avatar. He was also pained to see that there were no takers for this talent in the “sabhas”.  

The TV anchor Dileep Tendulkar then sprang a surprise; he produced in the TV studios our prodigy Mani -the boy- these two greats had referred to.  TBK, for once in his life felt almost ashamed. He had missed an opportunity to be the hero who brought out this prodigy into limelight. He had heard him before and out of sheer stupidity almost rubbished him at that time. He now could only hope that no one else really knew or could remember anything about that earlier episode.

Mani was asked to speak a few words; he said he was much more at ease with singing and sang a sloka in raag “Kamas” leaving no one in any doubt that here was a prodigy amongst all of us. After the show Dileep cornered TBK and wondered as to how he could fail to recognize such talent almost a year back, and do a review which such insensitivity and in blatantly poor taste. It was with great difficulty that TBK extricated himself from Dileep, but only after some damage was done to his reputation that day.

The next day there was a performance of Mani organized by the same sponsors who did the earlier evenings TV show. The style was once again a non-brisk style and TBK in desperation to find some chink in the fellow’s armor, asked Mani if he could sing some keertanas in the “brisk” style later in the program.

In Carnatic music repertoire there is this famous “ragam thaanam and Pallavi” which is considered as a piece which tests the artiste’s capability to the maximum. Raga alapana is a melodic improvisation to create a mood the Raga represented, in a kind of an elaborate refrain. Thaanam represented the rhythmic version of the raga, and Pallavi was generally a one-line composition set to a complexly rhythmic pattern and variations, in some chosen style, slow, not so brisk, or brisk or fast paced.    

Mani chose TBK’s requested style for his RTP rendition. And the raga chosen was “thodi”; a raga in which all the notes were “short” and the mood it generally produced was “pathos”, especially when sung in a leisurely slow &non-brisk style. TBK was surprised therefore at not only the choice of raga but the brisk pace as well and that too for the most important piece of the concert.  

TBK was yet to experience the genius of Mani. Mani sang as if he had divine inspiration. Every one present there felt a churning inside and the one line piece invoking Lord Nataraja –the king of Dance and the ever kind- as to when He will condescend to come and give darshan, was so overwhelming as to make one wonder whether He had come there and His very presence was the cause for this churning they felt, the rolling over of copious tears and not able to know precisely what was happening. This was nothing short of delirious ecstasy.

When it ended, all felt drained off his/her energy. There was therefore a slightly longer gap before Mani resumed his concert. He rounded it off with a sloka in Sanskrit in blissfully soothing Kalyani  – which incidentally – has all the notes “long” making it sensually pleasing besides a few other Raags like Mohanam etc. He chose his own medium paced style. After the cathartic Thodi in fast pace this was a very welcome shift. The concert ended with a few rounding off light pieces. The concert ended, and there was a moment of absolute silence as if to respect the divinity one experienced. Then there followed a long and thunderous applause. The audience had witnessed something close to divinity that day, and TBK was no exception.

He went in and congratulated Mani, without forgetting to apologize for the last time’s gaffe regarding Padma/Chitra duo’s brisk style of singing. Mani’s response was brilliant; Sir, are you still carrying the burden of this “brisk style singing” remark on your shoulders? At that moment TBK realized that this boy was not an ordinary 14 year old, but an avatar as described by Ayyangar.  

To imagine that TBK redeemed himself, and Mani went on over the years winning more hearts akin to the famous saying “all is well that ends well” would be missing the mark completely. Life in this age is fraught with unexpected outcomes. Mani incidentally also happened to be brilliant in academics. He took the IIT route, went for his Masters in US and settled down well in California US. His wife belonged to a very hugely respected and accomplished family of musicians and who had also done her Masters in Science, in addition to being an excellent violinist. Their son was turning out to be a prodigy in Piano. He was onto Western classical and had dreams of becoming a leading Conductor of orchestra – a la Zubin Mehta.

Mani and his wife performed regularly for audiences in the US. Every musician from India who went to the US was welcome to their home in California. The couple was also planning a Trust in India to help out deserving boys and girls who had music in their veins. 

TBK after a brief experiment with truth went back to his trademark critiquing style and earning respect from the entertainment world which was seriously considering an award for his lifelong contribution.

Sutradhar’s Comments:       

If God chose to take an Avatar, only a few bhakths like Parameswaran who -it would seem- will actually recognize Him. The Lord however may prefer a Dileep Tendulkar for  the formal recognition, and introduce Him to a much larger audience, letting His Bhakths like the Parameswarans, feel sort of left out.  After this, even to have darshan of the Lord the likes of Dileeps would have a say.

But being true Bhakths however, while the Parameswarans would ceaselessly trust in the Lord in the hope that He will deliver them one day, the Dileeps would keep Him busy by trying to corner all His blessings to countless neo-bhakths, in their worldly pursuits. Then the interpretations, acknowledgements would start and all of them would hail these as examples of their spiritual upliftment, individually and collectively, much to the wonderment of the Parameswarans.    

What is the original sin of these Parameswarans that they have to come to such a pass?  Will they be forever denied their desire for a few precious moments with Him in solitude? Or will He give them some hint that He is aware of their turmoil, and let them be conscious of His Grace, and not be too unhappy about their inability to be physically near Him, which BTW is not of such critical importance? Most crucially, will they ever be able to perceive that they are always there in His radar and they are as relevant?                  

Ekalavya alias Vichu