Decades ago the Margazhi month produced a weather change in Madras, with gardens covered with morning mist, and sparkling dew drops greeting the morning sun.
People looked forward to that nip in the air which made a walk to the temple a warm exercise. It was also the time when many Ragas rang in the air, reminding us that our nation was not only young but also a place where melodies could bridge geographical distances.
To enthrall us with those melodies and rhythms from the farthest frontiers of the North came Pundits, Ustads and Vidushis. We were mere children, but our parents instilled an aesthetic in us, never to be forgotten. Those were the times when Ravi Shankar and Ali Akbar Khan played like the gods of the sitar and sarod and we listened until midnight. Later came Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan and his brother Barkhat Ali Khan. Staying for weeks and months in Madras they gave their music to us with unimaginable generosity. Multani and Pahadi mingled with Kalyani and Mohanam in our awakened psyche.
The very word ‘Thumri’ became a familiar haunting melody full of romance and mystery.
For Friday Page: Hindustani Vocalist Gangubai Hangal perfroming at a felicitation function organised by Sri Rama Kala Vedike at the Ravindra Kalakshetra in Bangalore on 12th, August, 2006. Photo: Bhagya_Prakash_K
Then came Gangubai Hangal, our house guest for months. A petite lady clad in a traditional Maharshtrian sari, she became a tour de force on stage, with an unexpected booming voice which could fill an open air theatre with the power of choice raags. One hand held near her ear, the other stretched out towards the audience, she, the imperial queen, explored raags like Malkauns and Bhairavi as if the notes were her humble subjects waiting to be commanded.
The last of the four greats of our youth to spell a magic web around our Margazhi awakenings was of course Bhimsen Joshi. Gesticulating wildly, he took us on a journey of raags, meandering like thundering waterfalls, winding green streams, sparkling rivulets, and calm lakes reflecting an evening sun. He informed our musical senses with the essence of bhakti, with his dynamic singing of abhangs, Dasa padas and bhajans.
Hindusthani music had a place in our Margazhi moments. Special indeed are those memories because we heard the greatest without even knowing how great they were.
