Musings on music

Art and craft have always been an integral part of my life. When I was young, I grew up with music. Like many young girls growing up in south India, I was enrolled in Carnatic music lessons since I was … oh it was so long ago, I don’t remember how old I was. Appreciation of Carnatic music is kind of like appreciation of beer – it is an acquired taste. It is typically the music of the elderly, the antithesis of popular music; some might even consider it to be not melodious! Given all these obstacles to enjoying this art form, it is no wonder that many kids were far from enthusiastic about learning it and usually succeeded in nagging their parents into pulling them out. However, I actually liked it. Before you think that I am a female version of Benjamin Button, let me assure you that I neither looked nor acted too old for my age. It is now, when I do not have much time (or am too exhausted to make time) to practice and enjoy music that I most appreciate the opportunity I had to pursue this art form as a kid.

For me, making and reacting to music is something that happens on a subconscious level. It’s something I do instinctively rather than consciously. I grew up in a city where music blared in public places traveled far and wide, across air suffused with fumes from automobiles. There were the classic M. S. Subbulakshmi and S. P. Balasubramanian and Ghantasaala devotional songs that were hugely popular in temples. Since there was a sizeable Muslim population in my hometown, strains of the Muslim prayer songs could also be heard in the mornings and evenings. Contrary to finding this invasion of my auditory senses annoying, I actually found them soothing. Then there was K. J. Yesudas. My parents were die hard fans of his Malayalam devotional songs and his voice filled our house everyday. I would learn these songs and sing them at the local temple to great appreciation.
When I was very young, I would listen to Hindi film songs every afternoon on the radio. Now this was back in the days when Hindi film songs sounded like they were in Hindi and not like some kind of whining/whimpering/metallic/rapping/headache inducing mixture of random sounds. (Now you know what kind of music I like). Every night my dad would listen to a Carnatic music concert on the radio - this was when there was no TV or TV watching was dictated by parents. So I assimilated music and it became an integral part of my day.

Fast forwarding to today’s world when my life most times is like a finely oiled machine, listening to music has become a luxury. Why you might ask, especially in this day and age when music is accessible when ever and wherever you want on gadgets that fit in your jeans pocket. The reason is because of the state of mind. I find that most days I am like a pressure cooker, running around constantly, so much so that my mind is not relaxed enough to be receptive to music. I can listen to music without letting it touch me. But for me to absorb it and respond to it is getting harder and harder. What do I mean by responding to music? There was a concert that I went to of a Hindustani musician named Madhup Mudgal. He sang raag Surya. Though this concert was over fifteen years ago, I still remember the song and the wonderful feeling I had while listening to it. I wanted to learn Hindustani music after listening to him.
The time when I was driving to the Cochin airport after a very busy visit to India and was feeling sad (don’t remember why). The cab driver had some devotional music on and I remember the wonderful feeling of peace I was filled with.
The time when singing a song I felt like I had gone into a trance and had tears in my eyes when I was done singing.

Chinnu has intense reactions to music as well. I am learning a dance to the Tamil film song Mukunda Mukunda and I recently brought the CD home. She LOVES this song. I don’t know what she feels – she told me one day “I wish I could hear this song everyday forever and could live with the lady who sang it”. Then realizing that she lives with her parents, she said “Amma I wish you would learn this song and sing it for me every day”. Then realizing that it would not be the same if I sang it – “Amma it’s OK if you don’t learn it and sing it.” I can just imagine how it touches her tender young heart and I love that she feels so intensely when she listens to music. In this day and age when our lives are so dictated by schedules, technology, busy work and the times during which our minds are at rest and at peace is so few, our reactions to music (and any art in general) is one thing that remains individualistic and untouched by the clutter of daily life.