I listened to Amaan and Ayaan Ali Khan and they were beautiful. In fact, I listened to many musicians over the last few days, and enjoyed most.Yet, when I watched and listened to Ustad Amjad Ali Khan - again - I realised what makes me fall in love with him every time, year after year, concert after concert. I love that his climax in each raag does not border on noise. He takes you all the way up to a crescendo and then gently falls into the softest and most tender of notes. That makes him incomparable. He lets you fall so gently and beautifully that you smile and sometimes, even laugh. That kind of laughter is particularly beautiful because it's like a child's laugh of pure joy, not adult laughter that finds something humorous. I love how he flies with his instrument, smiling as he plays - and, yes, I do love how he plays for an audience. He takes the audience with him on his journey, … [Read more...]
One-Arm-Distance
Children in dance class believe firmly that the closer they are to me the better I will be able to see them. I try every now and then - very ineffectively - to explain that this is not the case. "If you stand a little far, I can see you completely," I explain. "Otherwise, I can't see whether your arms are right, legs are neat..."For about thirty seconds, they keep their distance, and then, slowly, they sneak forward till I say to them, "You're dancing on my head again." And then they shriek with laughter, go back, and start the process all over again.During theory class, when everyone is sitting on the floor, I insist on at least one arm's distance. The children find that hilarious too because they associate the phrase with PT, not dance theory. They begin one arm's distance away, but in ten minutes, they are close to me again. Somehow, they inch forward even while they are seated, a … [Read more...]
Sawai Gandharva
Sitting at the bharatiya baithak on the second day of the Sawai Gandharva festival, I realised once again that for me, the festival is as much about the grand music as about watching people. There are all sorts there. People come with yoga mats, some get floor chairs for a back-rest, some come with all their picnic paraphernalia of sheet to sit on and food to eat. What I love is that music is so 'everyday' for them. Sitting and eating or even lying down and looking at the stars when space permits are no mark of disrespect. It's just enjoyment the way they want to enjoy classical music without social restrictions and conformation to norms.People-watching made me smile yesterday because two old ladies found place to sit near us. Getting to that precious empty space would have been difficult, though. Weaving their way through people watching the big screen, captivated by exceptional … [Read more...]
My Name is Rose
I could say that Smarties Gold Medal winning author Sally Grindley's book is about a Romanian gypsy being integrated into a dysfunctional recomposed English family. Orphaned during a road accident, she has to find her way into the affections of a money-hungry man, an attention-seeking girl and a guilt-ridden woman. She has to surmount the obstacles of race and language, understanding that she is sometimes discriminated against only because she is a dirty gypsy. She has to construct her own identity, sometimes in deliberate negation of the English family around her.All of that would be true. And then, we could deal with the authenticity of the depiction of the Romanian girl, the life of a gypsy (as depicted in literature) and other stereotypes. Everyone would have an opinion and become excited about voicing it.Yet, maybe My Name is Rose is about non of this. Maybe it is, very … [Read more...]
Cool Cans
When cans of soft drinks were launched in India, they were both ridiculously expensive and ridiculously cool. I remember the summer holidays - four cousins in Bangalore, always hungry and always asking for ice-cream or cotton candy or, in the case of my cousins, soft drinks. I, sadly, did not like anything aerated, so I did not have the chance to strut down the street home with a cool can.My grandmother allowed money to be wasted on cans just once. My cousins, both boys, were excited. The younger one opened his immediately with a satisfying sushhh and downed it before we were home. My elder cousin, being the sweet elder brother, allowed me to open his. I knew that it was a privilege that was difficult for him to grant, and so, I was extra careful. I asked him what to do and listened very closely.Gently, I slid my finger into the tab. Step one successful.Fingers trembling with … [Read more...]
Torre Pendente
We had just a few hours at Pisa, but we could not travel all over Italy and not visit the famous leaning tower. So we asked a lady on a train what to do, and she wrote for us the name of the bus stop to which we needed to go to see the leaning tower.We showed a bus driver the stop, written in my diary, and he seemed confused. He asked us a question in Italian. We did not understand. We shook our heads regretfully. "Leaning tower?" we asked.He shrugged. "Torre pendente?" he asked.We shrugged. "Leaning tower of Pisa?" we asked, leaning slightly, to convey what we wanted."Piazza del Duomo?" he asked."No, no, no duomo!" we said. We knew that word. 'Duomo' meant cathedral. "Leaning tower!" we cried. "Seven wonders of the world! Leaning tower of Pisa!" It's strange how the subconscious believes that volume can surmount the language barrier."Pisa," nodded the bus driver, and … [Read more...]
Cut
My sister and I often got invited to the same parties. Once, when I was about seven, both of us received birthday invitations that had a fancy RSVP slip that had to be cut along the dotted line. Below the dotted line, it said:I can/ cannot attend your birthday party. (Please cut one)I took my scissors and painstakingly cut out 'cannot'. My gaping hole became a bit too gaping though and I went sadly to my father. Both 'can' and 'cannot' had fallen victim to my scissors. My father laughed out loud, I remember, and explained that 'cut along the dotted line' was with scissors, but 'cut one' was with a pen. Now, how was a seven-year-old to know that? I remember how self-righteously upset I was!My father being my father, though, sat with blade and pen and altered my sister's RSVP slip, making it 'We can/ cannot attend your birthday party.' Then we had the joy of signing both our names … [Read more...]
No Television
I moved into a flat that looked as if it had been painted by the landlord himself. It had definitely been painted by someone who had never painted anything before. I loved the flat despite that, though, and I particularly liked my landlord and landlady. They were extremely curious about a girl who wanted to live all alone. More than that, they were curious about this girl who had come all the way from Pune to live in their beloved Calcutta and study there. And most of all, I was a rare specimen because I spoke little Bangla.As helpful neighbours, they came to talk to me even before I had moved in. They asked me what I did and my landlady suggested to me where I should put my bed and other things."I don't have a bed," I said apologetically."Oh, okay, okay." That was normal. "You can put your TV here.""I don't have a TV.""Oh!" That was not normal. "No TV?"I … [Read more...]
Twins
My sister and I have repeatedly been told how alike we look. A few have also told us how different we look, astounded that we are sisters. The former is more usual, though, and two instances stand out.As children, a gentleman came up to us. "Excuse me, but are you twins?"Taught never to talk to strangers, we were on the defensive. "Um... No..."The gentleman laughed, embarrassed. "You see, my wife and I see you from our balcony everyday, and we've been wondering..."We found the episode more than a little weird, but there was another more recent and more direct incident that made us laugh out loud.Particularly when we are dressed similarly, people are struck by the resemblance. At a wedding a few years ago, we were both decked up in saris. A small girl, probably about four years old, was staring at us. After gazing at us unblinkingly for a few seconds, she … [Read more...]
Interesting Artichokes
The word 'interesting' is a perfectly tactful word that expresses nothing. It has become a word that's neither positive nor negative, conveying that exact degree of neutrality that is considered diplomatic. And 'interesting' was exactly the word associated with my first experience of artichokes.I had read about artichokes and was willing to try, especially in a place where vegetarian food is typically associated with aubergines and courgettes, neither of which I enjoy tremendously.So, coming to artichokes. You pluck the leaf, dip one end into the sauce and suck the pulp. Then you put the leaf aside to throw away.Then you pluck another leaf, have the tiny bit of pulp with sauce and put the leaf aside.Then you pluck another leaf, have the tiny bit of pulp and put the leaf aside.Then you pluck another leaf, have the tiny bit of pulp and put the leaf aside.At the end of half an … [Read more...]