Sometimes the most innocuous of conversations can impact
one in unimaginable ways. As I spent a lazy afternoon with a group of
lotus-eating researchers, from an institute here in Bangalore, a few words of ‘wisdom’
made a place in my mind. Music is the one common thread that runs through us
all; it binds us in a way, much like a ‘bandish’ is bound by a metre, poetry and musical
notes. But that’s only a side note here! It is, however, pertinent to note that
the background one comes from can influence the thought process to a large
extent.
Background:
S is a young lady from a remote village in West Bengal
and coming this far, not just geographically, was a point she had to prove to
the backward thinking that was deep rooted in the society she comes from.
Education was not an entitlement for the girls of her village. Many were
saddled with the responsibilities of household chores at an age when they should
have been lost like ‘Alice in Wonderland’. S was among the fortunate few whose
mothers wanted that their daughters live a life different from theirs and
admits she has only her mother to thank for where she is today. She harbours a
deep passion to change the way things are for young girls of the not-so-developed
regions of our country. And I am captivated by the twinkle in her eyes as she
unrolls her dreams!
V decided to give up a lucrative job in the IT sector to
follow the “desire” of his heart. He comes from what India loves to refer to as
the ‘middle-class’, where the route in life is very clearly defined – “study well,
get a good job, get married (an arranged one) and have two children”(those were
his own words!). While his family was over the moon when he got into an IIT and subsequently secured a job in a
software company, they were aghast when he decided, one fine day, to give it
all up for a stipend of a few thousand rupees and move from the lavish dinners
in five-star hotels to the ‘cutting-chai’ that we shared now. He plays the violin
in the Carnatic style and is one of the most liberal music aficionados that I
have come across. In tune with his rebellious streak, he sings ‘Sheela ki
jawaani’ in raag Todi! I find that blasphemous…
T is a trained Hindustani vocalist. His reason for
joining the institute was simple, if unconvincing – “I had nowhere else to go”.
We never ask him more than he is willing to say.
And I have no point to prove to anyone. Coming from a
family of (pseudo) intellectuals, no one even reacted when I decided to
research in music. Dinner table conversations are marked by long, copious
discussions on all topics – the ills in our society are derided, the economic
policies undergo a biopsy to understand where the disease lay, Naipaul is
discussed in the same breath as Robert Frost and classical music is the
favourite background score in all this drama. ‘Arm chair’ activism couldn’t get
better than this! But then, I do nourish a secret desire to join politics…"It could do with some glamour", I argue!
So, as we shared plates of sambar soaked medu-vadas and
the oh-so-small glasses of filter coffee, talking of all things sundry – from the
weather to the canteen man, Chandru (who according to V has the life he might
have had – married, with two kids), to the 100 crore club of movies, when V abruptly
says “what is a life when it has no story to tell?”
S: food - the lack of it; water- too much of it and
education - none of it
T: Raga Darbari
I: a book with blank pages
V: a black hole
The only sound that was heard thereafter was of the four
of us continuing to breathe!
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