I did not realize till Sunday that Carnatica was presenting Bharat Sangeet Utsav. And contrary to what appa says I did not miss the advertisement due to the way I read the newspaper. 30 seconds is enough for the nonsense they publish in the newspapers.
Anyway, I missed most of the utsav but on Sunday managed to watch dance performance by Rama Vaidyanathan and music concert by Vijay Siva followed by Sanjeev Abhyankar.
Rama Vaidyanathan presented a Margam sans Jathiswaram and sabdam. She started with a kauthvam and a Alarippu. This particular Alarippu was devoted to the National Bird- The peacock. While she captured the dance of the peacock beautifully, I maintain she did not highlight two aspects of the peacock- One its tendency to give its court call at 3am in the morning and second, its propensity to model itself on my verandah every morning. There it poses, with its tail spread behind for the world to admire, and eats up all my plants.
Anyway, that aside, it was a fantastic performance. She danced a varnam composed by Lalguidi Jayaraman. This was followed by Varugalaamo (Gopalakrishna Bharati's composition), and a padam composed by Purandara Dasa. The concluding item was a Thillana.
I missed Gayathri Venkataraghavan's concert but managed to go for the concert by Vijay Siva. He sang a beautiful ragam tanam in Madhyamavati (Palincu Kamakshi).
The final concert was by Sanjeev Abhayankar. Most of the South Indian crowd left at this point and only few North Indians (Mainly Maharashtrians)were present in the huge auditorium. Undaunted, Sanjeev Abhyankar sang Rag Bageswari and Madhukauns. At this point I had to leave as it was 8pm and getting dark.
One of the differences between the Hindustani and Carnatic musicians is that the former tend to use the Tanpura. The Carnatic musicians have replaced it with the electronic sruthi box, which is convenient but lacks the ambiance. I was thus surprised to see Sanjeev Abhyankar without the Tanpura. He too has adopted the convenient electronic sruthi box.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
Reminiscences of a writer
Sahitya Akademi had organized a talk by Paul Theroux. And I had been invited as a writer (!). There were about 10-12 of us in that seminar room. As the writer was late (stuck in JNU) we got to eat first and listen later.
Paul Theroux talked about how he became a writer- what he thinks are important attributes to being a writer.
First and foremost, he claimed was getting away from home. As far away as possible. It was possible because he was a westerner. Getting away from home is an alien concept to most of us Indians living as we do in an extended family including not only parents, grandparents, and siblings but also the neighborhood aunties and uncles all of whom want to know exactly what you are doing and why are you doing and how much are you getting doing it. Paul Theroux went to Africa as a Peace Corp Volunteer and later taught at school/college there.
Then he attributed the mentor. And here the discourse became long as he talked about his relationship with V.S. Naipaul. The friendship broke after 30 years in a very acrimonious manner, and Paul Theroux ended up writing a book on his friendship with V.S. Naipaul. He justified the book as an academic exercise into the beginning, the middle, and the end of a friendship. He also talked about how rarely the family reads the author's works. In his case his father never read his book even though the house was overflowing with them.
Finally, he acknowledged luck. One needs it in the right dose to become famous/successful/whatever.
The floor was then opened to discussion for 10 minutes as he had to leave at 7pm. There was someone there, a Bengali writer, Nabaneeta Dev Sen(?). At least that is what I heard. I am not sure. She challenged the concept of going away from home being important to the growth as an author. Many Indian women writers, she said, can write only after having taking care of the family. But of course she missed the point. Going away from home was important for Paul Theroux. It is not mandatory for every author.
In the introduction, the speaker from Sahitya Akademi quoted Paul Theroux as to what he thinks a writer should be: Inconspicuous not conspicuous, silent not talkative.
I do not know what kind of a writer I am but I followed the dictum. I was inconspicuous and silent and throughly enjoyed the talk.
Paul Theroux talked about how he became a writer- what he thinks are important attributes to being a writer.
First and foremost, he claimed was getting away from home. As far away as possible. It was possible because he was a westerner. Getting away from home is an alien concept to most of us Indians living as we do in an extended family including not only parents, grandparents, and siblings but also the neighborhood aunties and uncles all of whom want to know exactly what you are doing and why are you doing and how much are you getting doing it. Paul Theroux went to Africa as a Peace Corp Volunteer and later taught at school/college there.
Then he attributed the mentor. And here the discourse became long as he talked about his relationship with V.S. Naipaul. The friendship broke after 30 years in a very acrimonious manner, and Paul Theroux ended up writing a book on his friendship with V.S. Naipaul. He justified the book as an academic exercise into the beginning, the middle, and the end of a friendship. He also talked about how rarely the family reads the author's works. In his case his father never read his book even though the house was overflowing with them.
Finally, he acknowledged luck. One needs it in the right dose to become famous/successful/whatever.
The floor was then opened to discussion for 10 minutes as he had to leave at 7pm. There was someone there, a Bengali writer, Nabaneeta Dev Sen(?). At least that is what I heard. I am not sure. She challenged the concept of going away from home being important to the growth as an author. Many Indian women writers, she said, can write only after having taking care of the family. But of course she missed the point. Going away from home was important for Paul Theroux. It is not mandatory for every author.
In the introduction, the speaker from Sahitya Akademi quoted Paul Theroux as to what he thinks a writer should be: Inconspicuous not conspicuous, silent not talkative.
I do not know what kind of a writer I am but I followed the dictum. I was inconspicuous and silent and throughly enjoyed the talk.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
The Homeminister
Sometimes the only way to deal with the way the male colleagues talk is to stuff cotton plug into one's ears.
I have been for the past couple of days serving time correcting notebooks for an exam that, if somebody had sense, would be scrapped off. And in this committee there are 4 women and the rest are men. The conversation turned over to why one colleague had not made it to the meeting.
"There is a conference in Amritsar."
"Not his. His Home Minister's."
"Oh. So he has to take care of the home?"
Snide laughter.
And all I could do was to glare at the person sitting opposite me. Not that it made any effect.
Then there was another colleague who was very upset that no one bothered to respond to his emails, mails that he had sent when in America where he had gone for work. He became emotional at the faculty meeting:
"I had to cook for myself and write a grant..."
Excuse me. Some of us do it all the time. Can you please get that into your nut?
I have been for the past couple of days serving time correcting notebooks for an exam that, if somebody had sense, would be scrapped off. And in this committee there are 4 women and the rest are men. The conversation turned over to why one colleague had not made it to the meeting.
"There is a conference in Amritsar."
"Not his. His Home Minister's."
"Oh. So he has to take care of the home?"
Snide laughter.
And all I could do was to glare at the person sitting opposite me. Not that it made any effect.
Then there was another colleague who was very upset that no one bothered to respond to his emails, mails that he had sent when in America where he had gone for work. He became emotional at the faculty meeting:
"I had to cook for myself and write a grant..."
Excuse me. Some of us do it all the time. Can you please get that into your nut?
Monday, February 4, 2008
Just Say NO
It was so lovely today when I finally said NO to the department. They wanted me to be part of some committee and I had the pleasure of saying I cannot be part of the committee. It is a feeling that cannot simply be described!After all these years being part of some committee or other, doing the donkey's work, and then watching the rewards being awarded to others...sometime or other the donkey is going to protest too.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Dr. Ramachandran
I woke up on Saturday to sore throat, cough, fever, and blocked nose. I tried to dose myself and when the symptoms did not go away I went to the doctor in Munirka. My colleague does not hold very high opinion of him. He is on our medical board and comes to the medical center very evening.
"He always refers us to his clinic," is my colleague's grouse.
I do not care. I go to him because his medicines invariably work.
There are few doctors like him. Dr. Ramachandran for example.
This doctor had his shop in Geeta Sadan, Chembur, Bombay, long time back when my parents were living there. He had two standard questions.
"Say Aah."
"Do you have fever."
Then he would prescribe the medicines.
Dr. Ramachandran did not believe in the queue system. He would come out of his room, cast an eye around the waiting room and call in the person he liked/knew. My mother had the advantage here. My father, often away, was known only as my mother's husband or my brother's father. My mother staying put in the house was known to every one. So if my father took my brother to Dr. Ramachandran, he would have to wait and wait. On the other hand if my mother took him to the doctor, the examination was over in few minutes.
The medicine he gave were never meant for consumption. They were meant to be purchased and put religiously on top of the refrigerator. The patient, however, recovered soon after the visit to Dr. Ramachandran.
"He always refers us to his clinic," is my colleague's grouse.
I do not care. I go to him because his medicines invariably work.
There are few doctors like him. Dr. Ramachandran for example.
This doctor had his shop in Geeta Sadan, Chembur, Bombay, long time back when my parents were living there. He had two standard questions.
"Say Aah."
"Do you have fever."
Then he would prescribe the medicines.
Dr. Ramachandran did not believe in the queue system. He would come out of his room, cast an eye around the waiting room and call in the person he liked/knew. My mother had the advantage here. My father, often away, was known only as my mother's husband or my brother's father. My mother staying put in the house was known to every one. So if my father took my brother to Dr. Ramachandran, he would have to wait and wait. On the other hand if my mother took him to the doctor, the examination was over in few minutes.
The medicine he gave were never meant for consumption. They were meant to be purchased and put religiously on top of the refrigerator. The patient, however, recovered soon after the visit to Dr. Ramachandran.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)