How Stockholm Syndrome Drives Musical Inclinations

(This is apiece I wrote for the Mumbai Variyar Samajam Magazine some time back)


Till I finished my undergrad education, I was an Indian Classical Music aficionado. This state of affairs stemmed from non-exposure to the divine genre called Western Classical Music (WCM). Perhaps, the exposure during my formative years, in the laid back little town of Bhilai, and the not-so-sleepy-but-definitely-non-urban milieu of Raipur, had a part to play in that ignorance. My induction in to the Indian Navy changed that forever. The Naval band, brass, percussion and all, playing their mellifluous tunes at NAVAC (the Naval Academy, for short) mesmerized me. Incidentally, the Naval band was one of the few saving graces at NAVAC, during an otherwise rigourous training phase, that tested ones physical (not to mention, psychological) endurance to its limits.
 
For the uninitiated, a short treatise, on the canvas of action at NAVAC viz. the revered parade ground, is in order. The landscape was terrorizing, to say the least! Here, many a sorry soul, had bitten the dust literally, forced as they were, to run around the perimeter (ad-measuring approx. 300 metres) - often 5 to 20 times - carrying a (~6.10 kg) rifle, up in the air. This, for misdemeanours that would, in the civilised world, have at most, earned a questionable look! Then there were the much dreaded Drill Masters, wizened (through an overdose of imbibing, and "not-so-diplomatic" visits to foreign ports, if one were to hazard a guess!), with their stentorian boom and a homicidal demeanour. Hushed whispers in the corridors of NAVAC had it that, under the penetrating gaze of these hoary gentlemen (?!), doughty devils had been known to soggy their derriere! As for the state of lesser mortals, the less said the better! 

Despite these imperfections, the bi-weekly parade, with the Naval band in full regalia, was an event that I used to enjoy, much to the chagrin of my beloved course-mates. I think, I had this thing for music. With the band in full flow, the drudgery of the dreary parade was transformed into a voyage of nirvana. To the extent that, I used to look forward in anticipation to the fortnightly affair, with the zeal and expectation, much as would a beggar, famished and starving for days, await a full meal. Don't think masochism has any limits!

Enough of digressions. Let me get back to the story of my tryst with WCM. It had all the elements of a classic love affair. It began with a crush, meandered through courtship and love, and culminated in a life-long relationship of loyalty and worship (that’s much more than one can say of several love stories!). Once, during the parade practice, the band played a haunting but unknown melody. Promptly, I stole some time from the busy (and tightly monitored) schedule, to meet up with the Band Master, with a view to investigate the matter. Mind you, there were life-threatening situations galore in this exercise! For instance, the place where the band used to practice, was out of bound for us (as were most other places in the Academy). This meant that one had to sneak stealthily during this enterprise, lest one be accosted by one of the dreaded Divisional Officers (Divos) – those “cruelly-inclined” (in the minds of the cadets) officers, who initiate the rag-tag army of fresh engineers into the nuances of military life and convert them into Officers and Gentlemen. The fear of being caught was mortally terrifying, for such infringements could beget brutal and gruesome penal action, bordering on the grave. But, fortune favours the brave! So, without any untoward incident, I kept my date with the Band Master, and the rest, as they say, is history. 

The venerable Master Chief (Musician) Petty Officer Class II (a Junior Commissioned Officer rank in the Navy), SM Vincent, opened up an enchanting vista for me, that had hitherto been unexplored. There was no looking back thereafter. I was besotted to the creations of Bach and Beethoven. And, as if that were not enough, you had the pieces from Haydn, Brahms, Mozart, Strauss, Bizet, and a host of other equally consummate composers to contend with. Later, once the infatuation ebbed (to be replaced with a more mature phase of love) I had occasions to debate the superiority/ inferiority of WCM vis-a-vis classical Indian music, with some veterans and maestros in the respective fields, without any clear answers forthcoming. But, that's another story. In any case, why nit-pick, as long as both forms of music contribute to unalloyed listening pleasure!

Charvee the Debutante Danseuse

An account of the 'Arangretam' of Charvee, daughter of Capt (IN) and Mrs Sandeep Wadhwa, on 16 May 15 at India Habitat Centre

Mesmerising, captivating, brilliant, .... for once words fail me - for how does one describe that amazing  and riveting performance put in by the two young debutantes. 

The ambiance and the setting were ethereal; the background musical accompaniment, the vocals, the lighting, all added to that surreal experience that we were privileged to enjoy. I am sure that would have been the audience sentiment too. As regards the dance, let me make a confession - I was actually moved to tears of joy when the two elegant ladies stepped on to their scene of action. Each action of Charvee and Ananya (the co-performer) was elegance personified. The grace with which the hand and eye movements were coordinated and executed ... it was scintillating. Together, they exuded a charm that sent us into ecstasy. 

I am sure the girls would have been through several trials and tribulations to reach this stage. But yesterday, both of you (Capt and Mrs Wadhwa) would have been proud of Charvee. She made us feel proud too. 

It is beyond doubt that she has a great future in the performing arts. May I suggest, in my semi- ignorant stature, that an exposure to the fine art of Kathakali would do Charvee a world of good. Of course, her guru would be the best judge. 

Our only regret was that we couldn't stay through to enjoy till the very end. But I want to extract a promise out of you - we are going to watch that exciting performance on a real-life sized screen at your place, soon after Ishaan (their son, who's in Class XII) is settled - preferably nursing a glass of single malt. Meanwhile, all the very best to the young, talented lady and best wishes to Ishaan too, to meet his aspirations.

Down memory lane with Neetu Singh

The other day, Sagar (Mohbe, my class fellow since school and through collage) posted the wedding photograph (probably!) of Rishi Kapoor and Neetu Singh on our WhattsApp group (find that pic below), and transported me down memory lane with a nostalgic, innuendo-laden insinuation. Guru (Gurdutt, yet another pal from school) pondered, and possibly agonised about the tenuous connection between that Diva and yours truly. This should put you out of your misery, Guru, and in the bargain, address the concerns of other Sangamitrans (that's the school wapp group) as well.
 
That Neetu Singh is an awesome actress is a cliche. I've  been an unabashed fan of hers even since I hit my teens (and as a corollary, my hormones hit me!). She's at her tantalising best when she's prancing and dancing, not for the reasons my imaginative (and perverted!) friends are conjuring up in their minds,  but for the fact that she has given us some of the most memorable, hummable dance numbers ever to hit the silver screen: Ek mein aur ek tu, Lekar hum diwaana dil, Humne tumko dekha, (do I need to go on?). In addition, she has some fantastic credentials (two, in fact - there the perverted go again!) that she can be extremely proud of, which sets her apart from the rest of her fraternity in the tinsel world. I, of course refer to Rishi and Ranbir. (Sorry to disappoint the imaginative species again!). That's two solid reasons for my infatuation. There are more, but this being a 'family type" blog, they can't find mention here. Also, those revelations go best with single malt and 'sangat'.
 
So that's that! I guess Rishi had a point when he crooned 'Tere chehre se nazar nahi hath thi, nazaare hum kyaa dekhe'

Golden Birthday Celebrations of Vinod Agrawal - 20/21 Nov 15

Usually, birthday wishes on WhattsApp  are terse, uninspiring  and perfunctory; somebody starts it off (usually, one of the early birds), and the rest of the pack just punch in their statements (or worse, cut from an earlier message, and paste). The emojis, smileys and the inanimate bouquets and cakes only add to the dreariness and misery of the whole exercise. I guess it is part of the collateral damage caused by not being there physically to soak in the ambiance of the function, and in general, participate in the bonhomie that prevails when old chums meet over such events

This birthday wish is very different for two reasons: (a) It was one of the few occasions where we met face-to-face on a birthday, held and pumped hands, and gave (and in the bargain got), a jadoo ki jhappi from the prima donna. It was a hark back to the days of yore at college; and (b) The group Admin was present himself, in all his glory, to bless and cheer the b'day boy.

Vinod, you lucky rascal, am sure you had the time of your life yesterday evening.  Am still reeling from the grand event conjured up by your kids - Shaivika and Raghav (with no doubt, more than a modicum of effort by Shalini, your better half) - to celebrate your golden birthday. Hats off to your talented progeny - Shaivika, a budding civil engineer and Raghav, who also wants to slip into his dad's shoes - carried it off with aplomb. My best wishes to both of them.

We had a gala and your wide beaming smile, stretching from one ear to the other, throughout the evening, said it all. The surprise presence of unanticipated friends, so thoughtfully coordinated by your children, would have been the icing in your b'day cake.

Wishing you all the very best buddy; may your journey to the diamond, platinum and indeed to the century, and thereafter, be as interesting, rollicking, successful, enjoyable and eventful as the last 50. God speed and fair winds.

PS. One of the points of discussion at yesterday's event was the omnipresent smile of Vinod's, that brings out the famed dimple. The dimple came in for much ragging and I strongly suspect it was possibly one of the most extenuating reasons that Shalini lost her heart to Vinod long years back.

The Wisdom of Dr Karan Singh

Had the good fortune of listening to Dr Karan Singh on 15 Nov 15, at Neemrana NIIT University (NU for short; they fashion themselves on the lines of NYU!). The occasion was the Seventh Annual Lecture, and the topic "Interfaith Movement: The Confluence of Civilisations".

To say that it was an experience in oratorical excellence would perhaps be an understatement. Dr. Karan Singh held forth with his vast and versatile erudition, for about an-hour-and-a-half. He expounded on theology and spirituality, tore apart dogmas and beliefs of all religions, and best of all, showcased a pragmatic way ahead for the next generation (students of NU formed a major section of the audience).

Talking extempore, but referring once in a while to what seemed like hand-written notes, he stuck largely to English, but slipped into Hindi, now and then, with the practised ease of the veteran speaker that he is. He peppered his speech with Sanskrit shlokas, Urdu couplets and quotes from Koran, for maximum effect; all of it, off the cuff. But the beauty of his talk was that, at no time did it feel contrived or disconnected. In fact, he broke down arcane concepts into down-to-earth, easily understandable nuggets, thus establishing his profound wisdom.

Being a politician, 'am sure he has his detractors, but one thing is for sure - even his most hostile antagonists would doff their hats, at the scholar in Dr Karan Singh.

For me personally, it was a forenoon well spent.

Ashish Purandare – An Epitaph

 

Ashsish Purandare, a friend over the last 32 years, left for his heavenly abode yesterday (02 May 15) after being diagnosed of Multiple Organ Failure. The passing away of a dear friend raises several emotions. The good times, the great times, the rash times, and the differences of opinions that one had with the departed soul, all of it comes rolling on to you like an avalanche. There is no stopping those floodgates.
 

It is also a time for reflection. Every human being lives her/his life in accordance with some norms that she/he sets for herself/himself. With Ashish, the dictum was loud and clear – LIVE LIFE KINGSIZE! Not for him the underplayed, nuanced approach to life practiced by the cautious and the insecure. Right from the first time I had known him, he was strength and intensity personified. Our whattsapp group had a post of how Ashish managed to clobber a senior trying to rag him (when he was in the first year), thereby earning the sobriquet of ‘Dada’. That singular, authority-resisting act was indicative of his USP.

Rakish and devilishily handsome, Ashish had a charm that could disarm the most ardent of his detractors. As Saket pointed out in his whattsapp post, agar woh goggle laga le, to quayamat aaa jaye!

Ashish believed in defying, daring and challenging the status quo. He tried that devil-may-care attitude with his life as well. Impulsive to the core, he spiced up his life at every juncture. It is not for us to judge whether what he did was right or wrong. As he meets his maker at Vaikunth, I am sure, if the good lord asks him what he expects there, Ashish would respond, “good life, good times, on my own terms”

It was great knowing and growing up with you, Ashish. I sure am gonna miss your effervescence, your satire, your unending stock of non-veg jokes, the baithaks, and most importantly that benevolent, helpful attitude of yours towards all and sundry who would have known (or not known) you. I pray to God, to give your family the courage and strength to tide over this most untimely loss.