Travels of a Pierre Cardin Belt

Once upon a time, there lived a farmer called John Smith. His cattle farm was famous all over Jersey,  and he frequently won prizes in cattle shows in English Fairs. Time went by, and his handsome young son Peter broached the subject of his own future. He had heard good things about the grasslands, snow mountains and sunny beaches of  New Zealand. Soon, with his father's blessings, a dozen cows and a couple of bulls, Peter sailed to New Zealand.

Father Time now makes a fast forward  and we come to this century. There is no doubt Japan faces economic troubles, but every dinner table is still laden with Kobe Corn Beef or Peter's Angus. So it turns out that around the Lunar New Year, a worthy successor to the Jersey ancestry tickles Japanese taste buds and also lends her hide to the flourishing sea trade between Matsumoto of  Kobe and Shin Tsui of Sichun. The ship itself is owned and run by Park of  South Korea.

Tsui's nephew started a belt and shoe factory recently, and has won laurels from famous labels like Pierre Cardin. He makes lovely belts, with good grained cow hide, and it fetches him a princely sum of $2.50 per belt. He doesn't have to buckle up, as the Cardin brand gets the buckles from Italy itself.

Soon after being buckled, a 115cm long gleaming formal black men's belt makes its trip to Missassuaga in Canada. Just in tiime for the stimulus-driven Christmas season.

And what happens next? A handsome young statistician is shopping around in Toronto's biggest mall with his lovely wife. And he happens to see s sweaty fat salesman at the Men's Accessories counter! Voila! The statistician thinks of his brother in law (or Co-brother as Indians specify more exactly) with his vast girth crying for better upholstery.

The Pierre Cardin is taken and paid for, and thrown into the suitcase in a hurry since this B-in-L can't get a visa to cross over from Buffalo. The statistician makes some fast math and concludes he should drive his Hybrid Camry all at once to catch the distressed man. So they meet, hug and the statistician calculates in his mind that the bell curve for men's bulging torsos needs to be recast quickly to accommodate the muffin top like his B-in-L. But then, his estimation skills have served him right and 115 cm looks rather a good fit for the bulge losing its battle.

Bingo! After a lovely Indian temple orbit weekend tour, the US of A's international conclave bringing together a B1 Indian passport holder from Australia and a statistician from Canada concludes. And the B-in-L flies back on a reluctant United who do their best to lose his bag and delay his flight. But he is an intrepid B1 you see and so does make it back to Parramatta. The very next weekend, he wants to get his belt on. He finds that the holes are not right as his torso has shrunk a bit after the United experience. So he goes to the Westfield mall, gets some extra holes punched by a Czech and Fiji partnership shoe repair team, and is all set to shine in his new upholstery, the Jersey-Angus-Peter-NZ-Kobe-Japan-Korea-SiChun-Milano-Toronto-Statistician- Aussie- Czech-Fiji-Indian B-in-L-Buffalo belt!!!!!

An NRI Tree

My good friend Vishwa led me to this astonishing story of a Mysore Fig tree holding its sway in far-away Florida, USA. This tree is over 113 years old, and has a care-taker who is 93 years old himself. The entire family is proud of this Ficus Mysorensis, which rises over 90 feet in height and declares its majesty as well as its sweetness through its fig berries that are made into a jelly by the doting family!

We talk of NRI Indians and awards that they receive. Look at this unique NRI. He stands tall and proud and healthy, and is not bothered about dual citizenship or double taxation. A model for all of us indeed.

The Holy Fig tree, called Ashwattha, is sacred for all Hindus. In Bhagavadgita as well as in Vishnusahasranama, this tree is said to be a form of Vishnu himself. My mother used to say that an Ashwattha tree inside one's home garden could outlast the building itself and drive its roots even into the foundation.

I used to play under an Ashwattha tree as a boy. I was happy to see the same tree all over South East Asia and it may be here even in the botanical gardens in Australia.

Chaitanya compares the forbearance of a devotee to the patience and uncomplaining acceptance of a tree. What a noble thought indeed. Jagdish Chandra Bose showed how the tree could express dread at the arrival of the wood cutter with his axe.  Osho talks of how he used to talk to the Gulmohur tree in his college campus and how it would always welcome him.

Read this fairy tale from Hans Christian Andersen about the Christmas Tree. It is a fairy tale that imagines how a tree feels and aspires much like us. In this case the tree seems to have learnt to feel all the thoughts of the ever vulnerable man!

In closing, let me give an image of Bala Krishna, lying on a vatapatra (=Ashwattha leaf), sucking his own big toe!

Shaantaakaaram

Last weekend I was with four close companions in USA who took me to two Vishnu temples and made me recite Vishnusahasranama. They recite it daily and are devotees whose life exemplifies good values.

I came home and lit the lamp and played the wonderful Sahasranama record of Kishori Amonkar (Music Today). The way she has sung the dhyana shloka  Shaantaakaaram is so evocative. Listen to it here:

Shaantaakaaram sung by Kishori Amonkar

Today, after my companions' treat to me, and amidst thoughts of all that we discussed, my mind says:

I am stressed out so much by things and happenings, but my deity Narayana is the very embodiment of peace, eventhough he is lying down on a mighty serpent! He is not dependent on anyone else or anything else for bringing him beauty, as he has created the lotus flower himself from his navel and is verily immersing himself in its beauty. No wonder even the gods run to him for succour, he is their absolute master.  Not only that, he is the lord of all creation, and as expansive as the sky. His colour of the rain cloud informs of his grace that pours down on all. His very form is so auspicious for me to contemplate.

One so much at peace with himself, so creative and expansive, supporting the universe and showering grace, no doubt is the beloved of all prosperity. He seeks nothing, and yet all prosperity comes and woos him. He is full of love, and his eyes show it like two beautiful lotuses. This form is the ideal that yogis envision in their meditation.

By bowing down to him, I have no more fear of what transpires in my silly world. He is after all my sole refuge.

The Sydney Opera House

From Weekend Sydney

This is a magnificent structure, and Sydney is duly proud of it. It was conceived and largely built by Danish architect Jørn Utzon, who in 2003 received the Pritzker Prize, architecture's highest honour. The citation stated

“ There is no doubt that the Sydney Opera House is his masterpiece. It is one of the great iconic buildings of the 20th century, an image of great beauty that has become known throughout the world – a symbol for not only a city, but a whole country and continent. ”

The Opera House was made a UNESCO World Heritage Site on 28 June 2007. It is one of the 20th century's most distinctive buildings, and one of the most famous performing arts centres in the world.

Utzon won a contest to design and erect an Opera House, and conceived of a design which was easy to "manufacture" and erect. In fact the entire structure is largely cement, ceramic tiles and wooden interiors.  There is a plaque showing how the structure which evokes visions of sails blowing in the harbour actually is made up of parts of the surface of a sphere, which can be cleverly divided up. That was the way the tiles were made in Sweden and transported all the way here.

I understand that Utzon was accused of underballing the cost estimate, which was over-run several times, and he was in fact dismissed towards the end. Sadly, he was not even at the inauguration ceremony. You can read more about it here.

I attended a grand eight piano concert here. All Steinways. The atmosphere was electric. The Australian pianists as well as the presenter were a huge revelation. And finally, after we had soaked up a wonderfully rich feast of profound music, one of the pianists went up to the organ. The Sydney Opera House organ is perhaps the largest in the world, weighs tons, and looms impressively in that magnificent concert hall. The organ made an absolutely mind-blowing impact. And the eight Steinways sounded like a feeble chorus of priests propitiating God himself. Think of Vishwaroopa Darshana.

The organ is located so high that the pianist had refused to go up there as he would have to look down from such a great height into the cavity of that huge concert hall. He agreed to go and play, only after they agreed that he would be screened off from the audience. There was therefore a black screen behind him, but his dimunitive figure was nothing compared to the grand, glowing sight of that spectacular organ.

Steinway supplied the original piano that Edison used to record the first sounds on his phonograph. I think it was Handel's Messiah. Edison, world's greatest inventor, was amazed by the quality of sound that the piano could reproduce, and wrote,

What great works are wrought by man, and think of the One who made him!

Attachment 3.0

This is a photo I took in 2005 in a shop window in Barcelona. The photo shows luxury clothes, but also the expressions on the mannequins' faces is interesting. (You can see the reflection of the ubiquitous churches in the glass.). What are they thinking, or craving?

Now what do I intend to write about? About the human feeling of attachment. I think the evolution of man has seen a change in the way attachment is felt and expressed, and the nature of attachment itself. I think we are at a respectable version 3.0 now, and it is as problem ridden as any version of Windows!

What was Attachment Version 1.0?  Hark back to the days of our epics. They had attachment, but mainly to people, their families, their honour and their kingdom. They would die for their people. But people were not attached at that time so much to things. I mean creature comforts or objects of desire. Take for example King Janaka. He was willing to risk the famous Shiva's Bow, as long as he got a suitable man for his daughter Sita. So much so that Rama broke the bow, only to be congratulated by King Janaka.

You will notice that Hanuman found Sanjivani, that would bring the dead back to life. But he did not patent it or hoard it or brand it or sell it. He was singularly lacking in a business sense... but then nobody seemed to care for things at that time.

Even in Mahabharata, we do not find people holding on to things as much as to their positions of honour and prestige. So much so that Karna gave away his divine ornaments.

That was V1.0. Attachment to people and honour. Then came V 2.0. The times of Nadir Shah and the like. The way they looted kingdoms for a diamond. Pillaged for pearls. And killed own brothren for the goodies. With V 2.0, you were attached to your precious heirlooms, things like money and assets. If you see any vintage movie, they show how a man's will is read just after the funeral. Everyone gathers around, and nobody is mourning the death of the man as much as any denial of their share in the family fortune. They are willing to kill one another for it.

The entire modern economy developed on principles of wealth and security. This is classic V2.0, where you don't care for people as much as for your things. In fact you deal with the company, which is called an entity. People just don't matter!

Interestingly, the V2.0 was obseleted by the same people who created it. Of course they made lots of money as you insured your assets, and speculated on gain and appreciation of value. But nobody cares for you really, and how much you enjoy your things. In fact it is bad for the economy if you stay with things you love. It is better that you tire of them soon, sell them off, and buy new! The man who made this discovery was that magician who came selling Alauddin the new lamp for old.

So old is no longer gold. You need to replace or upgrade all the time. Not only do you upgrade your computer or TV, you upgrade everything... your clothes, your jewellery, your home, your job, your club membership, your car, your every single possession. Nothing is sacred, nothing is supposed to last. It is a replacement culture. So V 2.0 is dead!

Now we have V 3.0. You're attached neither to things nor people. In fact you don't know what you're attached to. You are in fact attached only to your self image. Your self image, or Avtar, is everything. You don't watch the same kind of movies, or listen to the same kind of music, or dine in the same restaurant. You are available to every kind of new experience. You are constantly connected to the entire world, and in fact MOST OF IT IS ONLY A VIRTUAL EXPERIENCE.  You hardly deal with real, palpable things. Your world is full of You Tube, Facebook, Twitter, Internet, Email, and blogs! You can relate only to your email ID and your Avtar. Nothing else matters or has any value. In fact this is the ultimate decadence of attachment... V 3.0. That means you are infatuated only with your self image. And this is not going to change ever... it does not matter what anyone thinks.... because there is NO REAL VALUE ANYMORE.

Alas, we have Attachment V3.0.  Do you agree?

Lalgudi G. Jayaraman

And there was a Lalgudi.

I am full of trepidation as I write this. I am writing about an extraordinary musical soul who lives amongst us and has created a wonderful legacy of music. He comes from a family of musicians, and his great grand-father was a disciple of Saint Thyagaraja. In fact Thyagaraja composed five magnificent songs while he was visiting this disciple in the village of Lalgudi.

That was over 170 years ago perhaps. And today, there is a musician amongst us who is totally unmatched for his contribution to Carnatic music. Who am I to say this? Actually a nobody. But I cannot help express these thoughts as I listen to his music streaming from a glorious blog site. This is a 1970's concert with Palghat Raghu on the mridangam. Listen to it and you will take a few hours to recover from its musical impact. It is studded with gems.

Thanks to the great rasika and patron of the arts K. Srikantiah of Mysore Parvathi. The blog created by Vishwanath of New Jersey is a cornucopia of memories and music.

I attended three concerts of Lalgudi in Mysore in 1967-68 within a span of 3-4 days. I was so mesmerised, I sat close to the dais. And  I got his autograph. He signed with a flourish, the letter L shaped like a violin.

This great maestro has composed so many wonderful tillanas and other songs. He has given countless magnificient concerts. He has accompanied the great musicians like only he can. He has trained students who can hold their own today. He has created an incomparable solo violin style. The way he modulates the sound, the way he makes the violin speak the words... the way he creates a wonderful dialogue in the improvisation passages, bringing to our hearts the very God of music.... The way he coaxes the violin time and again to do even more...It is difficult to see where the bow and strings end, where the player begins and ends, and where God steps in and takes over.....

I remember an occasion when Lalgudi was playing in Krishna Gana Sabha. A suburban train passing by blew the strident whistle. At once he played the exact same sound and welcomed it to become a part of his raga essay...

I remember Lalgudi accompanying MDR in Bidaram Rama Mandira. MDR always had a packet of Kalkandu (crystal sugar) and dry fruits and so on, which he would strew in front of himself on the stage and occasionally pop some into his mouth with a delectable expression. Lalgudi would look out for a chance and steal a few pieces for himself and delight in them... the mridangam player would not be left behind either (I think it was TVG)...

Listen to the concert in the link. Each piece is a nugget. Kharaharapriya, Jayathasri, Mohana, Yadukula Kambodhi, Shanmukhapriya, the ragamalika in the end where he plays five octaves on the violin......Krishna nee begane....it is an endless treat.

Sometimes one is glad to be alive in THIS world. Where there is music and there is Lalgudi.....

Séraphine

Séraphine. This is a real story, made recently into a  famous French movie (7 Césars including Best Actress for Yolande Moreau) and I was lucky to see it on SQ233 enroute to Sydney.


Like so many French movies I have seen, the movie paints brilliant character portraits against a visually depressing imagery of buildings and spaces. The colours of walls are all dark dirty green or brown and black, and you wonder if you would like to be alive for even a few minutes in such a space, shorn of the bright hues and sunlit life basking under a blue sky (something you can count on here in Sydney).

But the characters are different. I don't understand French much, but their spoken words are so fine on my ears, and the captions help to follow the brilliant expressions and thoughts of the characters.

In this film, the main character Séraphine is an ageing woman of dull appearance and body language, trundling along, working to scrub floors and wash the laundry of her convent nuns in a stream, in a depressing town called Senlis in Pre-WW I days. But wait a bit, and she transforms herself in front of our eyes as she secretly paints in her dingy dark room by candle light. She is very masculine in all her gestures, and has no niceties about her; but two things are luminous always..her paintings in candle light and her eyes and face as she communicates with Mary in the church. The bright shapes of flowers and fruits in her paintings are so cheerful. There is some kind of a dynamic in the visuals as you think you are almost walking amidst these cheerful expressions of Mother Nature.

Séraphine the maid who has always hidden her artistic side from everyone opens up to her benefactor. Herr Wilhelm Uhde, a famous art collector and promoter hiding  in Senlis away from the bustle of Paris, discovers that this house maid is a gifted painter. He convinces Séraphine to concentrate on her painting and make enough works to hold an exhibition in Paris.

Séraphine, who embraces trees and sees visions of beauty as she saunters in the woods, now has dreams of living a life of comfort and elegance. She even rents a large and comfortable apartment. She orders a silk bridal gown in preparation for some dreamy ceremony with silver candles and so on she envisions. By the way, she is touching 60 and says she has no family at all.

But the WW not only  tears down many lives, it also destroys the art market so Herr Uhde is no longer able to promote Séraphine  as a great artist and get her to move up from the drudgery of a house maid's work to the comfortable life of a successful painter.

 The shortlived dream is dashed as Herr Uhde says there are no buyers now for her paintings. Séraphine is left alone to become eccentric and irritable. She is finally bundled off to a lunatic asylum. No one, neither Herr Uhde nor any of the town folk think of taking Séraphine  under their care and making her feel better in her last,dark days.

Luckily, Herr Uhde pays for the asylum to move Séraphine  into better quarters and she is able to walk into the wood peacefully and sit under a large tree as she counts her last days.




There are haunting questions the movie asks. What makes an artist? Whence comes the inspiration and talent?

How weak is man's nature, that we cannot sustain the spirit of creativity in the artist, and show them love and care when they need it most? Why does a Séraphine, or for that matter, van Gogh, go mad?

The Red Balloon

I chanced to see this very simple and imaginative short film. It was made in Paris in 1956 in an area rather bleak in appearance which highlights the contrast of a bright red balloon.

The story is a fantasy of a young boy chancing upon a red helium balloon with a mind of its own. The balloon wants to be with him all the time and he has a great deal of fun taking it to play and school. The balloon has intelligence and feelings too... I saw it fall in love with another blue balloon!

In the end some bullies chase, torment and finally kill the balloon. Thereupon all the balloons of Paris converge to cheer up the boy and in fact take him on an aerial trip!

The movie-maker Albert Lamorisse has kindled our imagination with an insight into how we actually subliminally relate to a universally attractive plaything like a balloon. He won an Oscar for screen play.. and there are VERY few words spoken in the entire film. Shows you how a picture is worth a....

You can find more about the film here. Better still, you can watch a You tube clip here.

Hercule Poirot's walking stick

Watch this, mon ami!

You tube clip

The walking stick

I saw a speciality walking stick store in the Hiltopia mall in Shinjuku this morning. The lady, Ms Nagae, told me it's the only one of its kind in Tokyo and 26 years old! Visit http://www.Chaplin.co.jp. I am going to post a video clip of Poirot's elegant and expressive silver-topped stick the moment I'm back home.

The dance of Shiva

I took this photo in 2005 in Prambanan, Indonesia.

(scripted using Baraha)

In my previous post, there is a link to Pandit Chhannulal Misra's recitation of the sutra to indicate how Shiva is the originator of our music and literature.
I loved this sloka and researched it. I reproduce below the quote from kamakoti.org; the explanation of the sloka is presumably by the Sage of Kanchi:

Nrttavasane Nataraja-rajo nanada dhakkam navapancavaram


Uddhartukamah Sankadisiddhanetadvimarse Sivasutrajalam

I will speak briefly about this stanza. The silent Siva remains still [as Daksinamurti]. But the same Siva [in another form of his] keeps dancing all the time and it was from his dance that the science of language was born.
Nataraja is the name of the dancing Paramesvara. "Nata" is a member of a troupe which also consists of the "vita" and "gayaka". The nata dances. Nataraja is the king of all dancers-- he who cannot be excelled as a dancer-- and he is also called Mahanata [the great dancer].
"Nrttavasane. . . " Nataraja performs an awe- inspiring dance. It seems to bring together all the dance that all of us have to perform, the rhythms of all our lives.
Nataraja has a drum in one hand, called the dhakka or damaruka. The tala of this drum (the time kept by it) is in keeping with the "footwork" of the dancing god, the movement of his feet. The beat of his drum is referred to in the words, "nanada dhakkam".
When Nataraja dances, Sanaka and his brother sages, Patanjali Vyaghrapada and so on stand round him. They are great ascetics, so they are able to see the dance. At the close of the dance, the concluding beats(cappu) produced fourteen sounds. It is these fourteen that are referred to in the stanza ("Nrttavasane", etc) as "navapancavaram"; "nava" is nine and "panca" is five, so fourteen in all. "Nanada dhakkam navapancavaram.
The fourteen sounds produced by Nataraja's drum are the means by which the reality of Siva is to be known and experienced within us in all its plenitude. Nandikesvara has commented upon the fourteen sounds in his Sivabhaktisutra.
The fourteen sounds are recited at the upakarma ceremony. Since they emanated from the drum of Mahesvara(Nataraja), they are called "Mahesvarasutras". Human beings can produce only inarticulate sounds on the musical instruments played by them. The hand of Paramesvara is verily the Nadabrahman and Sabdabrahaman incarnate, so his cappu on the damaruka at the conclusion of his tandava sounded as a series(garland) of fourteen letters:
1. a i un; 2. rlk; 3. e on; 4. ai auc; 5. hayavarat; 6. lan; 7. nama nana nam; 8. jha bha n; 9. gha da dha s; 10. ja ba ga da da s; 11. kha pha cha tha tha catatav; 12. kapay; 13. sa sa sar; 14. hal-iti Mahesvarani sutrani.
Though the musical instruments do not produce articulate sounds, they create the impression of producing the phonemes of human speech. If this be so in the case of instruments played by humans, why should not the drum beaten by Nataraja during his pancakrtya dance produce articulate sounds?How did Panini make use of the fourteen sounds? He created an index from the sutras to vocalise the letters or syllables together. According to the arrangement made by him, the first letter or syllable of a sutra voiced with the last letter or syllable of another sutra will indicate the letters or syllables in between. For example, the first syllable of "hayavarat", "ha", and the last letter of "hal", "l", together make "hal". This embraces all the consonants in between. Similarly, the first letter of the first sutra, "a", and the last letter of the fourth sutra together form "ac"-this includes all the vowels. The first letter of the first sutra and the last letter of the fourteenth sutra together form "al" - it includes all letters. "Halantasya" is one of the sutras of Astadhyayi. "Al" itself has come to mean writing. "A-kara" is the first letter in all languages. In Urdu it is alif; in Greek it is alpha. Both are to be derived from "al". So too "alphabet" in English. Here is another fact to support the view that, once upon a time, the Vedic religion was prevalent all over the world.

We know thus that the prime source of grammar is constituted by the Mahesvara-sutras emanating from the drum of Nataraja.

Singer extraordinary - Pandit Chhannulal Misra

I have been listening to Hindustani music for decades and yet did not know of this wonderful musician until today when You Tube introduced me to him.

He is a great ambassador for Banares. He gives a very interesting meaning for the word Banares here. (right click and open a new window).

He says beautifully that Banares is the home of music since the original musician Shiva has made it his home! Also that  "Banaa ras" is their motto.. to make music!

Listen to his music here,

and here too,

and here again,

and some more!

Agatha Christie's Poirot

You Tube Link

I am watching this exquisite TV series, I bought a whole lot of DVDs.

The 1930's period setting, the character sketches, the acting, the dialogue, are all quintessential British humour. Of course David Suchet is incredibly good.

Watch the You Tube video. I am sure you will soon grab the DVDs!

Here is a link in Wikipedia

Todi on the Mridangam - Umayalpuram K Sivaraman

I think the most salubrious situation for musical excellence is a well-tuned veena and mridangam in conversation, in the hands of two maestros who have no care in the world so they can pursue the ethereal bliss that music can shower on us. There is no quieter place on earth for such a tête-à-tête than a recording studio and in this instance we have Emani Sankara Sastry and Umayalpuram Sivaraman collaborating in an AIR concert. Emani plays a Todi RTP and I give below the pallavi portion to show what heights they both can reach, especially the mridangam maestro.

Can you immerse yourself in the Todi that the mridangam maestro plays? The sensitive accompaniment, the sparkling sound, the deep bass, the strokes that sound like a stringed instrument? And Todi in all its splendour, with the Ga, Ma, Pa and Dha and the other notes dancing at his finger tips?

Blessed are we to have such a great musician like Sri Sivaraman giving us blissful music for so many decades. Nothing can express our gratitude to this maestro ever.

Ten do's for enjoying Carnatic music

I have listed here the ten things I have learnt over time that will make me enjoy Carnatic music more deeply and lingeringly:

1. Be on time for the concert.
2. Buy a ticket.
3. Respect each artiste- every moment of music is a gift- fresh and enjoyable.
4. Listen. Don''t sing along.
5. Keep your knowledge to yourself. Don't try to impress others.
6. If you do put tala, be discreet and correct.
7. Listen totally. No chat, paper or mag.
8. No toilet break.
9. Applaud if you enjoy. It is a good exercise.
10. Go home and savour the lyric later. It is a good after-taste.

iPhone smiles

The Festival of Light

As we celebrate light, let's remember
Darkness nourished us till our arrival.
Light plays on our beings much like joys and smiles
But darkness prepares us for this Festival of Lights!

Gandhi and Obama

Mahatma Gandhi was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize in 1937, 1938, 1947, and a few days before his assassination in 1948.The fact that he was not awarded the Prize was regretted by the committee publicly when the Prize was awarded to the Dalai Lama. If you read this item at Nobelprize.org, you will learn that it was because the Nobel Peace Prize was somewhat exclusive to Europeans and Americans during Gandhi's time. The postage stamp in the picture is from UK in 1969.

Now the Nobel Prize has been awarded to Obama. Obama became the President of USA less than a year ago on a vote for change, a change from the policies and beliefs that precipitated wars and economic crises big time. Obama is a great orator, but he has not achieved anything to win a Nobel Peace Prize!

Gandhi's life is remarkable. I found this report in the Time magazine archives from 1931:

The same frayed sandals that carried St. Gandhi on his illegal salt march through India 19 months ago carried him last week up the crimson-carpeted stair of Buckingham Palace. Flunkies in scarlet & gold bowed the small, unrepentant lawbreaker into the Picture Gallery. There at the head of the receiving line stood George V in striped trousers and morning coat, Queen Mary in a shimmering silver tea gown and Edward of Wales (who had flown down especially from Liverpool) dressed like his father. The Lord Cham berlain, the Earl of Cromer, advanced through a horde of 500 tea guests, some of them Maharajas wearing pearls as big as butterballs.

  "Mahatma Gandhi!" announced the Lord Chamberlain. George V at once looked up. The sandals carried the Saint to His Majesty who stretched out a royal hand. Mr. Gandhi took it firmly, shook it warmly. He then placed his own hands palm to palm, bowed to Their Majesties as a Hindu priest bows when imparting benediction.

Queen Mary smiled approvingly. Mr. Gandhi was not in "morning dress" as the royal invitation had requested (TIME, Nov. 9) but he was wearing a loincloth wider by a thumb's breadth than usual, and a shawl of homespun. Queen Mary saw nothing unseemly, betrayed the merest flicker of interest as she espied the Mahatma's dangling dollar watch.

 King George drew Guest Gandhi into the royal study. There the King-Emperor took a dish of tea, the Mahatma sucked in a bowl of goat's milk sent up from the palace kitchen.

 Among buzzing guests in the Picture Gallery several startled the rest by recalling that this was not the first Gandhi-George V meeting. In 1901 the Indian community of Durban, South Africa welcomed the then Duke & Duchess of York, now Their Majesties, with a reception at which Lawyer M. K. Gandhi made the principal address. In 1901 impotent Ad- dresser Gandhi was bedight in the latest British fashion. Last week potent St. Gandhi created a sensation by leaving the royal teaparty before no other guest. "Personally I have very little time for social functions," said he. "Both Their Majesties were charming. I also liked the Prince of Wales."

British Reporter: Did the King give any encouragement to your hope for Indian independence?

St. Gandhi: Only God gives encouragement, not Kings.

 Badgered by correspondents to tell what his host had talked about, Guest Gandhi replied, "It would not be dignified for me to tell you what the King said," and explained why.

 "Our conversation consisted mostly of pleasantries. There were questions and answers about the weather and its effect on a man so recently come from India as myself."

 Shortly from Bombay the Mahatma received a cable signed by leading spirits of his Indian National Congress. They begged him to quit the Indian Round Table Conference in London because it has shown no sign of recommending independence for India. Promptly St. Gandhi announced: "I will sail for Bombay from Genoa on the 29th. ... I feel that I'm wasting my time here, but I'm willing to stay in London until the end of the Conference, which I expect will be in a fortnight. Then nobody can accuse me of impatience."

Photography

I just posted a web album..a Sunday in Sydney. Check it out in the box

Weekend Sydney

Begada - my favourite raga

Begada

Begada, or as we say in Kannada, Begade, is my favourite raga. It has a depth and colour like no other raga in either Carnatic or Hindustani music. There are many wonderful ragas, but Begada has some creative energy like the ocean. I just wrote a poem on Begada:

Begada

Pride of the valorous Shankara clan,

Your presence resonates with majesty.
You’re supple strength in gymnastic leaps and dives
And yet you’re subtle in your nuanced graces.
You bring courage to my heart
And also a serene benediction.
You lash me like the mighty waves of the ocean;
Standing on the rock, I exult in your subtle spray.
 
I am yet to come across a rendering that does justice to my imagery, the strength and nuanced touch that this raga commands in my imagination. The fact that I am not a musician surely helps... I can dream without duress!
 
I give you two links to unfamiliar compositions in Begada:

Vaa Muruga - O.S. Arun - this is a tough composition which calls for considerable vocal skills. The composer is Spencer Venugopal.

Hari Narayana - Purandara dasa- sung and played by Ganesh Kumaresh.


The photo at the top is one I snapped in 2006 in Kota Kinabalu. I wish the sea had been thundering with waves so I could show the mood of Begada.  But you can still see its fiery potential!

Gene Kelly - the amazement continues

Julie Andres & Gene Kelly show you some tricks

Did you know?

Eugene Curran "Gene" Kelly (August 23, 1912 – February 2, 1996) was an American dancer, actor, singer, film director and producer, and choreographer. Kelly was the recipient of an Academy Honorary Award in 1952 for his career achievements. He later received lifetime achievement awards in the Kennedy Center Honors, and from the Screen Actors Guild and American Film Institute; in 1999, the American Film Institute also numbered him 15th in their Greatest Male Stars of All Time list. He was born in Pittsburgh, was a very good sportsman, and started a dance school to help the family economically when he was in his teens.

He was also a good student and earned a degree in Economics from the University of Pittsburgh.

To see his incredible talents, see these two You Tube videos (links below the pics)....

Gene Kelly takes it to a new level- tap dances on skates!

Julie Andrews & Gene Kelly show you some tricks

Singin' and dancin' in the rain

No Indian movie can survive without song and dance. Those arty ones where dance and music are eschewed are doomed to fail like a poorly fuelled rocket. But if you think, like I did till yesterday, that Indian heroes are the most unabashed dancers and can dance at the drop of a dupatta, even in VT and even in a karmic Slumdog British bash, think again.

I saw Gene Kelly's Singin' in the Rain last night. It was made in 1952, and is often ranked as the best musical of all time and the fifth best film in 100 years. It is a totally unreserved Hollywood musical, and songs and dances hit you as often as Pillaiyar temples in Chennai and medical shops in Bangalore. It is co-directed and choreographed by the lead actor, Gene Kelly. You should see him to believe what a man can do as a dancer.

Just watch these You Tube videos:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmCpOKtN8ME

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FW02c5UNGl0

There are breathtaking dances right through, and Gene Kelly is unimaginably athletic, graceful and sings so well, too!  The camera work in 1952, with a smoothness that shows almost no editing, pays a huge tribute to the talents that did it in just one take.

The story itself  is interesting. The stars of the silent era have to face the prospect of singing and dancing and talking in the new talkies, and the star who commands a big rating has a woeful voice and no speaking talent. Her voice is dubbed by a lovely young talent, but the star insists that no one should know that her voice is dubbed and her voice-over artiste should remain unknown. But the hero, Gene Kelly, loves the voice-over talent and wants her to shine and be known. How all this comes about is the stuff of a great film.

I once uncannily wrote in my head a similar story. A Kannadiga starlet becomes famous for her Aishwarya-like looks in Telugu movies, but cannot speak the local tongue. Hence all her voice is dubbed in all her movies by an anonymous talent, whose emotive voice mesmerises audiences with a rich depth. So everyone in the industry keeps praising the starlet for "her voice", when in fact, unseen and uncelebrated, someone else builds up the starlet's entire charisma through her dubbed voice.

The dosa rules

Divinely born, a dual sided disc-

Bronzed to a dazzling brown,

Rules the DOSA like a mahavidwan

Flanked by impeccable accompaniment;

Truly do the seers proclaim: raso vy dosah!

This word 'great'

I just counted 17 occurences of "great" in my blog already. In fact, in one place I say "great great".

What is this thing I have for this word "great"?

Some quick research says that in old English, great meant large, rough and uncouth. It is related to the German word gross ( in fact they place a ß to replace a double "s" and call it an Eszett.Of course we know what gross means in English.)

I use this word because I am somewhat excited to describe what I am saying at that moment and can't find a simpler way to describe how wonderful, magnificient, incomparable, unprecedented, outstanding, remarkable, memorable, impactful, indescribable, excellent, superb, fabulous, out-of-the-ordinary, unforgettable, surprisingly good, prompting-an-exclamation, drawing-a-wow, inciting-an-applause, instigating-a-Bravo! the thing or feeling or person I am alluding to, is.

I took this picture of the Great Barrier Reef when I flew recently from Tokyo to Sydney. The pilot obligingly told us to look out on the left side. My ever-obliging iPhone was at hand in flight mode.

The Great Barrier Reef.  Here I quote from Wikipedia ( the guy who named it was sure as excited as I am sometimes)

The Great Barrier Reef is the world's largest coral reef system composed of over 2,900 individual reefs and 900 islands stretching for over 2,600 kilometres (1,600 mi) over an area of approximately 344,400 square kilometres (133,000 sq mi).The reef is located in the Coral Sea, off the coast of Queensland in northeast Australia.The Great Barrier Reef can be seen from outer space and is the world's biggest single structure made by living organisms. This reef structure is composed of and built by billions of tiny organisms, known as coral polyps. The Great Barrier Reef supports a wide diversity of life, and was selected as a World Heritage Site in 1981. CNN has labelled it one of the 7 natural wonders of the world. The Great Barrier Reef has long been known to and utilised by the Aboriginal Australian and Torres Strait Islander peoples, and is an important part of local groups' cultures and spirituality.

Sydney beckons to spring!

If you click on any picture, it will open in a bigger size. Originally shot in 21 MP resolution. To give you a flavour of it, see below. (it is cropped from the left-side flower)

K.V. Narayanaswamy

I have posted a great KVN sampler from the Internet alongside. It is a rendering with the great Raghu, Allah Rakha, and V.V. Subramaniam, all shown in the picture here.

The Poornachandrika tillana is my favourite. Listen to the "josh" with which Raghu and Allah Rakha accompany KVN. Yes, the one and only KVN. His interview which is a "maargadarshi" for aspiring musicians is linked here.

Enjoy!

Life paints in water colours

As I see everyday the beauty of flowers that bloom for a day, as I see the seasons change ever so subtly to bring a new song to birds, I think how subtle and changing every aspect of life is. It is delicate and transient. To appreciate it calls for a great sensitivity and willingness to accept change. After all, life seems to paint in delicate water colours, easily washed away. Not with permanent markers.

It isn't too hard to know it, but to accept it calls for great serenity on my part. Akbar, the semi-literate but wise emperor, carved at the entrance to his Fatehpur Sikri fort this message :"The world is a bridge, pass over it, but do not build upon it".  Everything moves and changes, but I hold on, asking for things to last for ever, to be the most intense they can be, and lose all subtlety. How insensitive all this makes me indeed!

I think Indians are particularly fond of holding on to things. We are also forsaking subtlety for hard impact. We make and preserve masalas, (the most processed of all food stuffs, and going beyond seasonality and subtlety) and garnish everything with tons of salt, ghee and sugar. We have moved away from subtle chamber music to stereophonic cacophony. We now wear polyester dhotis and Chinese nylon sarees. We have thrown away our woven straw mats and hand painted wooden toys for a plastic world. No more oil lamps. It's all neon, my dear. Temples and function halls are garishly decorated with plastic flowers.  What a mega-maha confession of lack of subtlety and true aesthetics!

Just remembered how even great Carnatic musicians have produced albums garnished with pathetic orchestral embellishment.

Life paints in water colours. Here today, gone tomorrow. Living in the moment calls for an aliveness that I must again cultivate. I was born with it, but have lost it in this make-believe world!

The picture at the top is my way of going back to subtlety. It is a water colour rendering of the original photo I took at Monet's impressionist garden in Giverny.

Jewellery branded as Poverty

The British Crown Jewels

I am amazed and speechless reading äbout this new brand of extraordinary jewellery pens in the name of a man whom Churchill called 'a half-naked fakir'.

Quote from today's The Hindu:

‘Mahatma’ pens from Mont Blanc -241 pieces of the white gold pen will be available

Mont Blanc to come out with a limited-series pen on the Father of the Nation. The high-end pen is priced around Rs.14 lakh, according to a watch retailer. The pen comes with a gold wire entwined by hand around the middle, which “evokes the roughly wound yarn on the spindle with which Gandhi spun everyday.”


There is also the ‘Mahatma Gandhi Limited Edition 3000’ pen available, both as a fountain pen and a roller ball. Three thousand piece each will be available worldwide. The pen which is available for about Rs.1.7 lakh (fountain pen) and Rs.1.5 lakh (roller ball) comes with sterling silver mountings on the cap and the cone.

Unquote

I remember a joke. A rich school girl's essay on poverty goes like this:
There was once a poor girl. Everyone at her home was poor- her parents, servants, drivers, nannies, cooks and gardeners!

Mahatma's India in 2009 scoffs at jokes about cattle class and holy cows. But the nation seems to miss this joke! What next? Slumdog diamond necklaces, Garibi Hatao designer wear and finally Bhikari wedding packages in Bangkok!

No wonder we build temples to self-effacing saints with golden thrones and crescents, and throw lavish parties to celebrate the poor!

The Barcelona Bull - my first HD video on YouTube

The Barcelona Bull - my first HD video on YouTube

Guys, long time, no see. Was away in Korea, trying to earn my bread, rather my inedible veggie noodles.

I made this HD movie with the Canon 5D MkII. Shows me how hard it is to make videos. Kudos to all those who lug heavy cameras and produce the best of the best.

Barcelona, where lived Picasso for many years, boasts many cultural wonders. You should see the funny Woody Allen movie, Vicky Christina Barcelona to soak up the mood, music and sights of this busy city. When I visited their arts village, I bought this ceramic bull in Gaudi colours.

And the compelling music I have added in the YouTube video comes from Percussions II.

Samyogamu

(courtesy: Internet)

Of course! Shiva is the mahayogi. Kundalini is the fire. Through the union of praana and kundalini shakti, or as the samyoga of the two, he will ascend the seven chakras or saptaswaras. And connect with Omkara.
So the veena is also a metaphor. But all said and done, Thyagaraja is the quintessential musician, with nadayoga and bhaktiyoga, blessed as he is by a direct vision of Narada, the mahavainika and mahabhakta!
Truly interesting thoughts, albeit not original I'm sure.

(folks, I am unhappy that I am not following the Kyoto convention while writing Indian terms, but then it will also look a bit odd to read as if it is a procession of camels....like mOkshamu galadA- sAramati-tyAgarAja and so on. So please forgive me..in fact forgive me in general for this blog which is quite a violent intrusion into your space!)

Mokshamu galada

Mokshamu galada

This highly evocative song has been rendered by the Madras String Quartet (Mr. Narasimhan) in a different style. It has been rendered meditatively, with western concepts of harmony. I must admit I have my own reservations about this kind of fusion as it seems to lose the evocative spontaneity of Carnatic music.

The link to their presentation on YouTube is here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L8rX0CtXuzs&feature=related

Now this song has some interesting words. If you click here, you will go to a very nice article in another blog posted by Mr. Govindan:

http://thyagaraja-vaibhavam.blogspot.com/2007/06/thyagaraja-kriti-mokshamu-galadaa-raga.html

Let me give you my interpretation.

Thyagaraja says that Shiva, who plays the veena, is the living embodiment of Jnana and Bhakti. By knowing his nature, those who are able to combine the appreciation of true music with real devotion (=surrender) will be able to liberate themselves while embodied, and only they will get true liberation or moksha. Thyagaraja is making a vital point. There is no liberation unless you get liberated while living in your body. What is the way? Through music!

Why music? Because it emerges from the source of Omkaara by the combination of Praana (life breath) and Anala ( the fire of life or body metabolism). The body is the medium for making music by sourcing the original Omkaara. To make music, you need your life breath and also the effort of making music using your bodily energy, and by staying connected  with Omkaara. ( There is another piece in this blog, the Sound Unheard).

Once we do this, we are able to understand the essence of music and also develop true devotion to the ultimate. Then we become Shiva, who is in that eternal blissful state, playing on the veena!

I found a photo on the Internet of a beautiful sculpture of Shiva playing the veena. See how blissful he is!

Jai Ho to our great Indian culture which has Shiva, veena, Omkaara, Thyagaraja, sculpture, and KVN!

KVN's 1967 Music Academy rendering of this song is playable by clicking the link on the left panel.

Enjoy!

An idea for a Carnatic FM radio channel

Sangeeta Setu FM Project

Music is an instinct unique to man. It uplifts one’s mood in a faster and deeper manner than anything else known to man. Music is the staple of Indian culture. Indian cinema can do with mediocre actors, indifferent storyline, poor direction, flickering photography, but not without music.

Indian classical music is like no other. It is based on thousands of years of artistic evolution and a robust structure. It has been passed on from teacher to student better than anything else. It has been preserved jealously as Gharana and Bani. It does not create a regional rift in spite of being called North Indian or Carnatic. It shows an unparalleled maturity in having absorbed foreign instruments, cross currents of musical milieu, lyrics from different inspirational streams, and moods of nine and more hues, and finally even the impact of electronification.

The genius of the 20th century musicians was to develop, spread and inculcate an abiding tradition of classical music using every modern development. The teacher started traveling on a bicycle, as did the student. The performer criss-crossed the country in trains, buses and motorcars. The traditions traveled thousands of miles and left their marks in an intriguing manner for musicologists to unearth. Witness this fact. The same Baroda court that honoured Veene Sheshanna in a procession of caparisoned elephants as grand as Jamboo savari, also clasped to its bosom a great musician from Mysore called Baksh. And his successor was the great Sufi mystic Inayat Khan. Inayat Khan reached the peak of classical music, gave some incredible 78 rpm recordings on instruments and in his voice at HMV Calcutta before 1910, and finally transcended his musical career into one of Sufi mysticism forever before he was forty. Any wonder that I see hints of Carnatic influence on the Sufi and Qawwali music of northwestern India?

The biggest influence on the spread of classical Indian music was the AIR. It is only very very recently that classical musicians have stopped to revere the role of AIR in their musical careers. Whereas Indian television has abject dependence on film songs and dance sequences, AIR has always been a huge promoter of Indian classical music. Even a thousand Maharajas could not have done as much for Indian classical music what AIR has done for the spread and nurturing of interest in the people across the land.

There is nothing more egalitarian or socialistic than radio. It is a powerful mass medium that reaches an expensive HiFi system as well as a humble transistor. And the genius of Indian classical music is that the listener can enthusiastically soak up the music whatever its bandwidth, by virtue of his supercomputer of an auditory-cerebral processor that works on enhancing the signal to noise much like the mythical swan that could drink milk and leave the water alone. My love of music was my mother’s gift, and she spent a princely Rs 400 buying a fine radio in the ‘50s. That is true also for many other families in the country.

Thanks to the advent of LPs, tape decks and cassettes, you will find here and there wonderful private collections of classical music of at least 5 decades. Great artistes who are no more with us will always be with us through these recordings. But there has never been a great way to reach this music to more people, until the advent of the Internet and the MP3 format. So today, here and there you will find well-meaning NRIs and techie enthusiasts putting great concert recordings on the net.

But the charm of the radio in its simplicity, energy efficiency, economy and the mass reach seems to have betrayed classical music. There are no FM channels in most Indian cities where you can listen to classical music. Some radio stations like Chennai and Kolkata FM stations still broadcast classical music, but with perhaps waning popularity or reach, in the clutter of TV stations, the chatter of FM Channels and the frenetic life style of most urbanites. In other words, something could and need be done to improve the marriage of FM radio and classical music.

Sangeeta Setu FM is an effort in this direction. The founding ideas are:

It will start with 2 hours (9:30-10:30 AM and PM) every day, perhaps and extra hour or two on weekends.

It will be Bangalore-based.

It will have only Indian classical music.

The music will be entirely listener’s choice based.

The listeners CAN ALSO bring in their music… their old recording or collection, and present it, with a brief personal introduction.

A Sangeeta Setu team for audio quality, musical content and contextual appeal, will preview the content.

Invited experts will comment at the end of the pieces about the music and the musicians.

Listeners will be encouraged to send in their musical recordings.

In other words, the FM broadcast by listener participation, harnessing the widespread gold mine of recordings, with expert presentation will be the hallmark of Sangeeta Setu FM.

The entire project will be based on NO PROFIT, NO COMMERICAL INTEREST AND NO ADVERTISING. But it will need money via contributions.

It will be an offering to music lovers and musicians.

Initially time will be purchased from good quality and popular FM channels and eventually Sangeeta Setu will have its own station.