My musings from my 30s: February 2019

Saturday starts an hour after an alarm missed at 5:30am, but the deadline is at 7:45am. Having gotten a promise for a breakfast that would be ready at 9:30(by the time I am back), I wrap a fancy jute silk saree that wouldn't be cumbersome while walking and have a glass of milk with 2 oats cookies and run for the auto-rickshaw along with my friend.
Three-quarters of the crowd is children with faces that are half-fresh and half-sleepy at 8am on a weekend. Everyone spic and span in traditional attire. The wintery breeze blowing from Hussain Sagar is certainly adding to the need for coziness. Nevertheless, all of us stand in the practiced fashion of three in a row, singing the krithis, following the teacher in both the rhythm and walk. A 9-year-old boy dressed (rather an undressed chest) as Thyagaraja shivers to add the necessary gamakas. Four songs down the road, we reach the statue where we settle down and repeat the bunch of compositions again as the teacher garlands and pays obeisance at the Saint Thyagaraja's statue on Tank Bund. Having done with the job, I come home to find the breakfast promises broken down. I change immediately and attend my domestic duties.
After a good hour-long siesta, I ponder over the day with a cup of tea and argue within myself, 'what have I achieved from the morning's exercise??..... wasn't it just to not be in the bad books of the teacher?? do I need it?? how can I avoid these unnecessary responsibilities from the next year?? these people want to brag a lot about their academy and therefore arrange such programs.... tomorrow is the big and a long day again... My train of thought leaves the platform this way....
Come Sunday, the same regime of sleeping through the alarm until 6.30am goes on. I suddenly wake up to the fact that I have to prepare the breakfast as well as lunch and leave. While cooking, I carefully pleat the selected kanchipuram silk saree, adorn the look with few accessories, to give a SINGER and a senior student (in terms of syllabus) vibe and catch the same auto-rickshaw at the same time as the previous day, along with my friend and co-singer.
At Ravindra Bharathi, we place the idols of Thyagaraja and Goddess Saraswathi on a table and arrange for the Thyagaraja Aaradhana'. Pancharatna seva starts with 'Sree Ganapathini' in the voice of Ayyagari Syam Sundar garu and all the 107 others join in for the next 75 minutes when 'Endaro mahaanubhaavulu' ends. In the meantime, Kuchi garu sketches the essence of these ghanaraaga keerthanas into 5 beautiful paintings. Sharing the stage with such eminent scholars puffs up my chest by a couple of inches.
After honouring the guests, the stage is cleared for the first solo performance by Mrs. Vardhani. Her rendition of 'Haridasulu vedale' instantly made me experience the magic of 'Yamuna kalyani'. Her aalaap, then taking off with that chatusruthi rishabham and prati madhyamam bring a lump into my throat and tears from my eyes. As I slowly try to recover, a band of flutists take over with 'Raama neepai tanaku prema podu... o Sita'. The spirit of the krithi which I have been practising since 2 months and was about to sing, was brought to life without uttering a single word. I realise the power of musical notes!!
Stuck to the seats, we were past the lunchtime, stand in the queue for 45 minutes, have it and run back to do the duty again. I and my friend sit down, lay the books open, adjust the mic, sruthi and complete the routine with 2 krithis with few mistakes here and there and the dullness set by the sleepy notes (remember the effect of a just-filled tummy). We receive the applause, descend down to a few more kind words from our classmates and teacher, though we clearly know that we erred at few notes. Seniority in terms of number of years doesn't count at all...point noted!!
The curtains of the dias come down, only to go up after 15 minutes. The sight of 16 veenas itself fill up the senses. 'Sree Gananaadham Bhajaamyaham' rings in memories of Srutilayalu. Following this is the performance of the day.....'Ninu vina na madi' playing in unison. My mind quickly went into search mode....'I heard it....I know it....nostalgia'. I discovered a new flavour called Navarasa Kaanada that totally took over me for the next 3 days. Slowly I find out that Chittibabu garu's version has been playing on Doordarshan for several years. Finally, Saamajavara gamana on the instrument reminded me of my first music teacher, who played it marvellously along with my aunt at an occasion. During those days, going to music class meant a nightmare to me and my sister!!
Lost in this trance, I forget time. At 5.30pm, my children sneak in and bring me back to this real (not as good as my imaginary) world, pick me up and take me home. Though the evening has been busy with the chores, the entire puzzle of the five-year long childhood stint with carnatic classical music, the out of the blue decision to resume it after 22 years, getting a good company, finding a teacher, learning it since the past four-years and participating in this 2-day annual exercise.....everything fall into place. I can't thank the God and my Guru enough for allowing me have this day in my life!! I send a 'Thank You' message to my teacher and light deepam for the God.

Gratitude comes out of conscious experience or to put it in the present lingo, 'mindful cognizance'. Life's dots can never be connected with being just present or futuristic to feel grateful. We need to constantly peek into that rear-view mirror. Though things appear farther than they actually are, time and distance shrink in a matter of seconds when the figure completing the jigsaw is revealed.