A season like none else

(Disclaimer : This is NOT  rambling complaint about the scorching heat we've all been dying of this summer)



Music was one among the many spheres that underwent revolutionary changes with the onset of a technology boom worldwide. With Apple releasing the iPod, the touch of a button made it possible to listen to a favourite tune despite notions of time and place.

Surprisingly and rather shockingly, my early use of the iPod was limited to listening only to Carnatic melodies I was familiar with or had learnt. This changed once I grasped the nuances of the art and realised the vast collection of songs at my disposal. Since then, there has been no looking back.  I was, quite simply, hooked to the iPod, and refused to part with it even for more than three hours at the most. 

I was fast developing a deep and intense passion for music, and my obsession amused and delighted my family.

Having said this, the biggest boon of living in Chennai, I believe, is the the opportunity to soak myself into the world’s biggest carnival of Carnatic Music- the Madras Music Season. Over the years, I am told, it has evolved into a wonderful platform for music from across the country and around the world to be performed.    

The beginning was humble- a festival to ensure that the glory of Indian culture did not meet a premature death amidst a changing environment attributed to colonial influence. Today, it is an exhilarating experience for music enthusiasts across the globe, a unique celebration of the art they love.

 Madras, once a sleepy town under the British Raj wears a festive look every winter clad in music, dance, art, heritage and culture. Music rings in the air, as every rasika- from the cognoscenti to the learned- scampers for a copy of the complete schedule of the season’s events. Promising performances are marked, and calendar suppliers find business roaring all of a sudden. It is a time when enthusiastic individuals, even those with strikingly different personalities; bond over a single unique passion that firmly binds not their minds but their hearts.

It is a time when newspapers and magazines fill their pages with reviews, interviews and trivia. A time when the gap between traditional and modern, elders and youngsters is bridged. A time when talent meets opportunity.  

The math behind the melody

Mathematics is as fundamental a subject as one can imagine and is something I enjoy as much as music.  

Most opine that the two are incompatible and therefore unrelated. In fact, a friend of mine said, “Music is refreshing. But the very thought of mathematics makes me Want to squirm. How can you possibly like both? That’s just ridiculous!”

Which got me wondering about what makes music pleasing and soothing. Isn’t it the confluence of shruti (pitch) and tala (rhythm)? But, numbers happen to be fundamental to the conceptualisation of talam. If one endeavours to study music in depth, he or she realise that mathematics is indeed a substratum for music. I've always thought of music and mathematics like the leaf of a bush with dew drops lacing the surface- neither entwined into one nor separated into two.   

Moving away from all the math, Life has much to offer. Merely appreciating simple pleasures is an art in itself-the patterns on the wings of a butterfly, the dance of the rain; now dashing against the window, now splashing into a puddle. This ability, for me, is the mark of one truly enchanted by music. Noting and enjoying every nuance is an involuntary act stemming from within; it can neither be imposed upon nor taught. Only when the ear is lovingly tuned to such music over several years, does it begin to discern good music from blissful music.

And finally, back to the Music Season

(Having been part of this culturally alive one month rendezvous for quite a while, now, I wanted to pen the earliest impressions I had; which, curiously remain unchanged)

Come November, the heavens crack open and the rains pour life into everything around. The weather now serves as a much-welcome change from the ‘hot, hotter, hottest’ climate the city has earned a reputation for. In fact, this pleasantness is mischievously deceptive, leading many innocent tourists to plan an elaborate vacation over summer!

The impact upon one’s appetite is tremendous. Seizing the opportunity, catering companies do a brisk business during this time of the year, as Sabhas offer food for both soul and stomach within and without the confines of the auditorium.

For many, the sheer experience of savouring a crisp masala dosa ( a South Indian delicacy) followed by a cup of piping hot coffee and talking music defines ecstasy. Elderly women draped in sarees and studded with jewels, thathas  (elderly gentlemen)in white-as-a-lily veshtis (clothing) with ash and vermillion adorning their foreheads, little girls attired in pavadais (clothing) with fresh jasmine over their heads. Most people have a concert schedule in one hand, while the other violently gesticulates, and are usually part of a heated argument about an alapana, their favourite artist or a ragam tanam pallavi.

 From all these seemingly trivial experiences, I have realised the immense joy that lies in the sheer  simplicity of it all and somehow, translating that joy into words has been far easier than expected.

P.S. Dear reader, considering that this is the lengthiest article I have written in a while, I guess I have got to thank you for having the patience to read it completely (if you did :) )