Can you imagine a rusted, old, chipped treasure chest? You are afraid to touch it, lest it crumbles to bits, but once you summon the courage and open it up, your eyes glitter at the sight of diamonds, rubies and pearls that scatter stars because of constant polish it has been subjected to over the years.
Parassala Ponnammal is an octogenarian. An age where some of us believe that speaking a few coherent sentences is a feat. The lady proves us wrong. Seated on the podium with her legs swinging down, the only sign of her age and associatied arthritis, perhaps, in addition to a head full of flawless silver hair, the lady's music makes you want to remove your slippers and sit cross legged, hands folded and eyes shut, as you would before your favourite deity. The many decades of sadhana shows in the extensive repertoir and complete control over any raga. The voice is a bit shaky, especially in the higher swarams, but the flow of music is so perfectly smooth that you would not even notice the age-related lapses of the mortal voice. She is a treasure trove of rare and unusual songs and I sincerely hope she has her set of students that she is passing on her knowledge to lest they be lost forever in the sands of time. The younger "up-coming" artists will well do to get her blessings if not her lessons, for in her presence, they are in the presence of music itself.
Last week, we watched the James Bond Movie "The World is Not Enough" where Elektra and later Renard say "There's no point living if you can't feel alive". It is probably an inoccous dialogue, but next to Anbe Sivam's "Vaazve thavam, anbe sivam", I find this most touching. I believe that people like Parassala Ponnammal personify "feeling alive". Having a passion, working towards it, enjoying it - adds many years to your life, and more importantly, adds qualty to the years . When I see people lost in intense concentration on something they immensely enjoy, I feel the tug inside - the jealousy at not being able to share their ectasy as they become one with their passion.
Check out the video of Tom Petty's practice session here - the dedication and unwavering attention of the performers is apparent and I yearn to be part of that intensity. I have had the fortune of playing the tambura for Bombay Jayashree when I was younger, and more than her music, what touched me at the concert was her complete surrender to her music, and joy in her face as she sang. I wonder if you have seen the poster for the music show "Margazhi Ragam" presented by Bombay Jayashree and T. M. Krishna. I love the bliss on their faces. Same with M.S. Subbulakshmi as she melted to Mira Bhajans.
And here I am, obsessing about the most mundane non-details of my existence. Dude often laments, and I am beginning to see in the truth in it, that as long as we look at daily existence as an achievement, we would never really feel the passion. And without passion triffles, sniffles, menu, homework, damp clothes, deadlines and meetings appear larger than life, overshadowing the pleasure derived from, say, singing a song, or tearing up to the lyrics of Ambujam Krishna's "Enna Solli Azaithaal", or even writing up this post.
I hope this December season will at least remind me to enjoy whole heatedly, the simple pleasures of life and indulge in my own interests and activities, even if I cannot identify any passion in me, without getting too wrapped up in the mundanity of daily existence.
7 A.M. Saturday morning. Alarm rings. Mom, never a mornings-person wakes up. Brain immediately goes into hyperdrive.
"Darn, it is 7 already. But then it is Saturday. Oh, someone called on the cell at 6.30 and I silenced the phone. Who was it? Prabandam mami. Wonder what she wanted so early. Maybe she wanted me to watch some prabandam show on t.v. But then, she knows I don't have a t.v. Well, I'll call her up later and talk to her. Should I boil yesterday's milk or today's? And there is a lot of yesterday's decoction left. Maybe I'll make my coffee with yesterday's and make fresh decoction for A. Why the heck is my head hurting so much early in the morning? Maybe the cold. I wish there is some sunshine today. I am sick of damp, cold clothes. You know, next time I get a payment, I am definately going to invest in a drier. I think I deserve to wear dry clothes. Oh, I need to finish up a proposal today if I have to take tomorrow completely off. Maybe I will work on the capacitor proposal. I need to find out why I should coat MnO2 with CNT. Perhaps I can use some of the background section from the old proposal. But am I going to make a case for a pseudocapacitor or a capacitor. Oh well. Need to read up some more. I remember Ajayan had a neat paper..got to look at it. Oh, have to talk to G3 about the Maney project. I hope she will be able to help me there. I can't handle the project myself..especially with my regular work. Maybe we should go out to breakfast today. Or maybe not. We will most probably be eating out tomorrow. CAn't make it a regular habit. Besides this month has been such a terrible drain on the purse for some reason. Gotta tighten up. But I still have stuff to buy. V's birthday stuff. I am totally slacking. Last year, by this time I had everything, including returnn gifts for V's friends ready by now.. I have not even starting thinking about it yet. And there is the srgm trip coming up too. I am having second thoughts about the srgm trip. Maybe we won't go. I have way too much work. But then V will be disappointed. LEts see. And I really want to go to the Parasala concert tomorrow..don't know how to work the logistics. Stupid priya..why does she have to have school today? I can't even leave V at TN and get my work done today.Have to call up mil to see how she is doing. Don't think I can visit them this weekend. She is going to be upset. Well. I better get Pongal and sambar going. Damn, I really need a break from this stupid cooking..you know,like a forty-year break or something..sick of planning breakfast, sick of planning lunch..sick of dinner..and it is not even like I cook well..the food tastes yucky anyway...how I wish I were rich enough to afford a full time cook..."
At this point, the six year old wakes up, ambles up to mom and says :
"Amma, you know how castles are made of stones? Our castle is made of diamond and gold and jewels. If you enter it, it sparkles."
Can I please be six again?
When a soon-to-be six uses the phrase "Not long after" in a conversation, it means she is reading too much Enid Blyton.
Edited to add on Dec 17: If she says "I am enraged", she is reading too much Amar Chitra Katha.
December is an engaging month in our household. Partly because for more than half of the month, the kid returns home early, and the remaining hours of the day are spent driving everyone crazy. "Nice" crazy, not "crazy" crazy. But more because the music season is in full form. While this year seems a little more subdued than last, thanks to the un-seasonal rains, we managed to squeeze in a few concerts so far. Having influential parents on both sides helps, since we have passes from them to attend concerts in two leading sabhas in the city - the Music Academy and Mylapore Fine Arts. Dude, as ever, is very methodical about it (as with everything else), and has a detailed time table worked out, and I am sure in due course he will post reviews at his blog. I won't have the time or patience to sit through all the concerts on his list, but I am sure I will attend more concerts than last time.
Much before the "season" began, an impulsive dude, dragged me kicking and screaming, one Saturday evening to a concert at Krishna Gana Sabha by somoene I have never heard of - Senthangudi Jayaraman. According the "Entertainment" section of the Hindu, the theme of the concert was "Sharavanabhava". I grumbled about the price we were paying for the tickets to a concert, which, in all probability, we would walk out in five minutes, for it would be an old man singing bajanais off-key. It has been more than two months since I attended that concert, and I don't even remember what he sang. All I remember is that I sat through, tears streaming from my eyes, completely mesmerised. There was nothing spectacular about the concert - none of the vocal acrobatics please. What it had was a "wholesomeness" that modern concerts seem to sadly lack. The creativity of the artist arose from complete grasp of music and there was no need to divert attention through cheap tricks and gimmickery. There were a total of 20 people among the audience, but I believe that the 20 people were indeed a blessed lot to have been there that evening. Years ago, my blind grandfather would listen to the radio with his eyes closed and bliss written all over, as Ariyakudi, Semmangudi or Madurai Mani Iyer filled the room. I got an idea of what that bliss must have been on that day . Dude gave me the "this-is-why-you-should-always-trust-me" look at the end of the concert, a look that I rightfully deserved.
We attended Sri Ravikiran's concert the weekend before last at Nungambakkam Cultural Academy. A great way to start the season. Fellow has magic in his fingers. You'd almost expect the Chitra Veenai to melt into a puddle halfway through the concert. I think that if Ravikiran has to play out of tune or make a talam mistake to save his life, he won't be able to. Music seems instinctive to him, like breathing.
Last weekend, we attended Sanjay Subramaniam, also at NCA. I had waxed eloquent about Sanjay's concert last year. This year, I walked out of the concert soon after the sub-main piece in Purvi Kalyani with a splitting headache, not caused by the carbon dioxide in the closed auditorium. At the risk of getting hate mails and death threats from hard-core Sanjay-fan trolls, I hope that this concert was an exception to the rule and not a new trend.
Sunday saw me at a concert which I was specially invited to, because the singer's wife and I happened to share a few ancestors. The singer held his tune well, maintained good talam, and well, is related to me.
I have often heard my grandparents use the idiom "Vengala mani Kural", (voice like a bronze bell), Had I heard Smt. Vasundhara Rajagopal then, I would have known exactly what they meant. I first heard her a few months back in her pet project with Sri Vellukudi Krishnan - Pasurappadi Ramayanam. The lady has the clearest voice I have heard yet. The risk with such clear voices is that if the singer made even the faintest mistake, it would sound like finger-nail on black board. Vasundhara Rajagopal, I have begun to believe, is simply incapable of making the faintest mistake. Her flawless voice, coupled with her intricate knowledge of the nuances of Carnatic music, make her concerts a pleasure to listen to. I could not stay through the entire concert because I had to pick up junior from school, but her Saveri after which I left, rang in my ears for hours afterwards making any kind of logical activity impossible. As I think back about Smt. Vasundara Rajagopal's concert, one word stands out more than anything else - STYLE.
I confess that it is nothing short of arrogance for me, who has had the most insincere and indisciplined approach to her own music, to even attempt to comment or criticise professional singers who have practically dedicated their life and soul to their passion. This however, is the "have blog, will write" era and I make full (mis)use of it. Perhaps I will write more about this season, perhaps call it quits at this point. Let's see.
எந்தரோ மஹானுபாவுலு. அந்தரிகி வந்தனமு.
It can be a colossal pain when everyone in the household (including a certain soon-to-be-six) blogs. There is always a race to get stuff on the blog. Dude got it first this time - all because I did not know how to switch off the flash in my digital camera, and before I could figure that out, he had taken a nice photo in his, uploaded it and written up the blog post. Not fair I say.
My daughter wants to be an explorer scientist writer. I believe the explorer part comes from Dora, with whom she was enamored for the better part of her six-year existence, the scientist part comes from the dad, and the writer part comes from the mom who seems to be always writing - grocery lists, leave letters, emails, proposals and blog blahs.
Now what would she do as an explorer scientist writer?
This.
What’s your favorite movie quote of all time?
Sponsored by The Official AVATAR Community on TypePad. See AVATAR in theaters December 18, 2009.
வாழ்வே தவம். அன்பே சிவம்.
(Life is a penance, love is God)
I keep forgetting that there is a lull before a storm. The past few months had been pretty peaceful on the dream front, and I was wondering if perimenopause does indeed agree with me. But last night made up for all the nocturnal peace that has been showered on me.
1. I wake up and amble into the kitchen to find the sink empty and clean (dream). I had left it full of dirty dishes when I had gone to bed last night (real). I wonder if Vijaya came early and washed my dishes (dream). But then, she had said that she would come late today (real). (I opened my eyes at this point and realised it was a dream. The sink is indeed full of dirty dishes)
2. I am fast asleep and aware that I am sleeping in (real? dream?). The doorbell rings (dream). I drag myself to the door and find that it is 9.30 AM and my mil and fil are waiting at the door. I am so exhausted that I swoon in my mil's arms. She brings me inside, brings me around, and scolds me for not taking enough care of myself. (dream, although my mil always complains that I don't take enough care of myself).
3. I go into Twitter to check on the weather update (dream). While there, I find Scanman and Ommachi having some discussion that goes over my head. I think to myself - either I am very stupid and can't follow simple conversations any more, or I am too old to understand the Twitter lingo. Either way, I need to stop reading irrelevant things on twitter. (Now honestly, I can't decide if that was a dream or conscious thinking. I often can't relate to or understand some of the conversations that go on)
4. I read in the papers that Rambodoc won the Nobel Prize for something. (dream). I think to myself - oh, I used to know this guy online. But why would they give a Nobel in the pseudonym of Rambodoc, when his real name is something else. (This one is definitely a dream, because it has been ages since Rambodoc and I flew into each other's online radar).
5. I walk into the kitchen with a splitting headache and open the medicine chest to find no acetaminophen. I panic because without the acetaminophen, my day was going to go down the drain. (not sure if that was a dream or real, because I did wake up in migraine hell, but on the other hand, I am pretty well stocked on acetaminophen, thank God).
Can someone make the wooly-head go away?
Soon-to-be-six: "Amma, I told Malu that I am not going to have a party for my birthday and she says that everybody MUST have a party on their birthdays. Is that true?"
Mom: "No. You can have a party if you want. If you don't want to have a party, that is fine too".
Soon-to-be-six: "But Malu says that I will stay at five-and-a-half if I don't have a party."
Mom: ???
at Creme Centre where we had treated ourselves to lunch today.
NRI from "LA" (fellow had a loud voice and my ears have no lids): "I asked the astrologer when we will return to India. The astrologer said, not in the next five six years. I am fifty seven years old. This is when I will earn a lot of money. I am looking for a house to buy near the beach. I am told the Mahabalipuram road is good".
An immensely entertaining, informative and ego-boosting talk by Hans Rosling. A must-watch. Thanks to dude for the link.
Links from my Neighborhood
Check out the RockMe. Schedule. I'm not sure if this is a...
All of us as Six Apart
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