Someone recently recollected how they headed home after an M.D. Ramanathan concert in the bygone days and went to bed after consuming a glass of water. It is another matter that online food order, late night restaurants did not exist then. But it is also significant metaphor for denoting a level of satisfaction.
Listening to a good concert is fulfilling, gratifying. You leave with an overpowering sense of contentment and relish. You forget the mundane, you enter a dream-like, trance—like state. Tyagaraja is supposed to have composed his lofty compositions in this state that bade him leave the ordinary and rise above. I have been very curious to know what people experience when they listen to concerts. I am not convinced by the stereotyped rehearsed statements audiences make in front of the camera after concerts - great concert, soul-stirring et al.
Does the music touch an inner core Do they feel satisfied enough to go home and retire with a glass of water and a sense of fulfilment A feeling of ‘why do I need to even get up and leave ’ Why is it that I still remember songs I heard in childhood that resonate in me after decades K.S. Gopalakrishnan’s Viriboni Varnam, K.V.N’s Saramaina or even Aliveni, Voleti Venkateswarulu’s Varali, D.K. Pattammal and D.K. Jayaraman who sounded so beautiful together and individually, so much so that the neraval in Harikambodi still reverberates in my mind and heart Sometimes, there is much fanfare, colour, glitz, speed in concerts to create the sense of quiet that can touch the inner core of the self meaningfully. Perhaps this also touches the depths of the soul for some I would not know.
The tragic drought situation in some parts of the country fills me with pain. A recent picture of a huge riverbed completely dried up, strewn with animal carcass, used as a cremation ground with water from a tanker, was a symbol of abject despair. Where are those rivers that meet to flow in force together, that breathe life and sound that nurtured the soils of temples and towns, people, creatures and Gods that Tyagaraja, Dikshitar, Shyama Shastri and all our great composers eulogised about At school, I remember reading a Mahashweta Devi story of a squirrel amidst plants in her garden and a Premchand narrative about lush and translucent brinjals nourished by the fertile Gangetic soil. The imagery never left me. Do we care sufficiently for these resources If we did the Ganga would not be so soiled, nor Mumbai’s Mithi river be converted to a filthy gutter.
No amount of singing Amritavarshini is going to reverse this situation. Even if it rained and poured, we end up not knowing how to respect and conserve our resources. Let us allow ourselves to be reminded by Tyagaraja’s lyrical stanza in the peerless song Muripemu to cherish our beautiful towns laced by rivers, fanned by pleasant breeze emanating from grand mountains. I am a strong votary for lessons to be taken from our traditional art.
If we heard correctly, read right and understood straight from these timeless resources, we might even become more sensible as people.
Dr Vasumathi Badrinathan is an eminent Carnatic vocalist based in Mumbai. She can be contacted on vasu@vasumathi.net
