Post by Srinivasan Subramanian on Aug 18, 2003 2:34:33 GMT -5
Semmangudi- "A Timeless Travel"
I was born on 27th of January 1964 exactly 14 years and a day since India became a republic and bequeathed onto itself a constitution. In the environs of Calcutta was a boyhood full of excitement and stimuli. The love of the willow and sphere, of science and idealism, of chicken rolls and damsels; life was full
Then one day a little wizened man entered through my ear never to let go. I fought him with a Beatle, a Haydn and a Mozart and finally gave up when Elton turned soppy.
I thought distance would do the trick and maybe a profession and a girl won with hard fought currency so onward to Bangalore I went.
I lost
I still remember a vignette in Bangalore airport doing vice president seva; after sales targets surpassed and his bear temper assuaged; being tapped on the shoulder with the quip:
“The Big man is here”.
I swiveled my head like a periscope and scanned around not to find anything of note. This time the prompt was clearer with the name of the Chairman of India’s largest IT Company. Frankly it didn’t mean much to me or perhaps I was tired. Then I looked down and there was this gnome! I dissolved, and prostration and supplication came so easy amidst people on the fly.
This is the Semmangudi I know.
Cut to Fort High School Bangalore with their Concert itinerary. My brother and I decided to attend his concert more for nostalgia than hope for performance. There were many who attended to see whether he would die in harness on stage. For the first two hours we saw the legendary gesticulations but music alas did not reach our ears. The more charitable among us thought it was to do with the mikes and ambitions of the accompanists. Then suddenly in the Shankarabharanam Ragam Tanam Pallavi some primeval gates opened up in the higher octaves and time stood still. We came out dazed not trusting either our intellect or ourselves. We were at the Fort again the next day to attend a concert of a very popular and accomplished artist. We found the ticket rates had been discounted to fill the auditorium, so it was not only us who were so replete in that timeless moment
I proceeded to follow, collect and absorb everything of the man with the obsession of a zealot. There were tapes, articles interviews and eulogies. One eulogy likened him to a Ulysses and the other to a Shylock leaving me terribly confused but the passion never waned as once the wellsprings open up no dam can block the tide.
It is this man who was felicitated on the 27th of July 2003 for moving on to the 96th year on this planet at the Music Academy Mini hall.
The stage was most tasteful; bouquets, flowers and garlands and a willowy little girl with a Purandara Dasa kriti
The man was brought with an eminent industrialist in tow amidst flash bulbs, photographers and the inevitable video camera. It didn’t take me very long to figure out that our man though seemed to be frail was as far from release as I was.
That a sweet making company should sponsor this event too was not really unusual given our penchant for interpreting our art through the culinary.
Gods and goddesses of more than1500 temples were propitiated for the benefit of our man (or was it us?). I tried to figure out how my people could actually work out these logistics on stage with a 96 year old within a couple of hours. The wonder of the TamBrahm management technique unfolded with alacrity. They mixed up the offerings into a goulash with a broad differentiation according to deity. For instance the benedictions to all Shiva temples in India and abroad were amortized into one and the ceremony on stage lit to the haunting and lilting, appropriate vedic chant. But when we do this we have to think about our own goal posts, last year I believe it was 500 temples this year the outposts covered have trebled and thanks to our improved diplomatic relationship with China included Manasarovar. The respect and reverence of this function was accompanied by the inevitable plethora of Ponnadai (Commemorative shawl) till I feared whether the little man would sag under the weight or pass out with heat stroke, even in a well air-conditioned hall.
It was thrilling to hear the chant as well; if it was the Shakti then memories of a Bhairavi if it was Ayyappa then the krithi Appan Avadaritta came back to our minds. The man too seemed strangely still & unmoved; with the pose of the Kanchi Perivar in his Samadhi. I guess this is what we wanted to see. I have heard many an artist who have declared that great art is when you can wring the hearts of the multitudes while feeling nothing yourself. But then the TamBrahm folk have this thing with the language of numbers and a vigorous debate was held declaring the significance of the day because the man had beaten the earlier record of Mysore Vasudevachar who gave up after 95.The debate covered his sense of humour as an anti aging device, the definition of time itself and various other attributes as well as the star Arudra under which he was born.
In the middle of all this came Illayaraja as a gatecrasher. Much to the immediate discomfiture of the hosts he took center stage performing a Kanakabhishekam of 96 gold coins, which he declared was earned from the same trade. The moment was touching impromptu and in fine taste though I greatly feared that the little man’s scalp might get bruised with the gold.
Finally the head priest summed it all up with tears and all; that it was the man’s guru bhakthi that was the very elixir of longevity.
But what did the man have to say?
In clipped sentences he acknowledged that he had beaten all records, accepted the love of all and finally gave a voice over for a SriKrishna Sweets (the sponsors) Ad.
I love this man and friends, I hope this Bheesma pitamaha lives as long as he wishes and there be no bed of arrows as a final rest. Let this be our constitution we bequeath onto ourselves.
I was born on 27th of January 1964 exactly 14 years and a day since India became a republic and bequeathed onto itself a constitution. In the environs of Calcutta was a boyhood full of excitement and stimuli. The love of the willow and sphere, of science and idealism, of chicken rolls and damsels; life was full
Then one day a little wizened man entered through my ear never to let go. I fought him with a Beatle, a Haydn and a Mozart and finally gave up when Elton turned soppy.
I thought distance would do the trick and maybe a profession and a girl won with hard fought currency so onward to Bangalore I went.
I lost
I still remember a vignette in Bangalore airport doing vice president seva; after sales targets surpassed and his bear temper assuaged; being tapped on the shoulder with the quip:
“The Big man is here”.
I swiveled my head like a periscope and scanned around not to find anything of note. This time the prompt was clearer with the name of the Chairman of India’s largest IT Company. Frankly it didn’t mean much to me or perhaps I was tired. Then I looked down and there was this gnome! I dissolved, and prostration and supplication came so easy amidst people on the fly.
This is the Semmangudi I know.
Cut to Fort High School Bangalore with their Concert itinerary. My brother and I decided to attend his concert more for nostalgia than hope for performance. There were many who attended to see whether he would die in harness on stage. For the first two hours we saw the legendary gesticulations but music alas did not reach our ears. The more charitable among us thought it was to do with the mikes and ambitions of the accompanists. Then suddenly in the Shankarabharanam Ragam Tanam Pallavi some primeval gates opened up in the higher octaves and time stood still. We came out dazed not trusting either our intellect or ourselves. We were at the Fort again the next day to attend a concert of a very popular and accomplished artist. We found the ticket rates had been discounted to fill the auditorium, so it was not only us who were so replete in that timeless moment
I proceeded to follow, collect and absorb everything of the man with the obsession of a zealot. There were tapes, articles interviews and eulogies. One eulogy likened him to a Ulysses and the other to a Shylock leaving me terribly confused but the passion never waned as once the wellsprings open up no dam can block the tide.
It is this man who was felicitated on the 27th of July 2003 for moving on to the 96th year on this planet at the Music Academy Mini hall.
The stage was most tasteful; bouquets, flowers and garlands and a willowy little girl with a Purandara Dasa kriti
The man was brought with an eminent industrialist in tow amidst flash bulbs, photographers and the inevitable video camera. It didn’t take me very long to figure out that our man though seemed to be frail was as far from release as I was.
That a sweet making company should sponsor this event too was not really unusual given our penchant for interpreting our art through the culinary.
Gods and goddesses of more than1500 temples were propitiated for the benefit of our man (or was it us?). I tried to figure out how my people could actually work out these logistics on stage with a 96 year old within a couple of hours. The wonder of the TamBrahm management technique unfolded with alacrity. They mixed up the offerings into a goulash with a broad differentiation according to deity. For instance the benedictions to all Shiva temples in India and abroad were amortized into one and the ceremony on stage lit to the haunting and lilting, appropriate vedic chant. But when we do this we have to think about our own goal posts, last year I believe it was 500 temples this year the outposts covered have trebled and thanks to our improved diplomatic relationship with China included Manasarovar. The respect and reverence of this function was accompanied by the inevitable plethora of Ponnadai (Commemorative shawl) till I feared whether the little man would sag under the weight or pass out with heat stroke, even in a well air-conditioned hall.
It was thrilling to hear the chant as well; if it was the Shakti then memories of a Bhairavi if it was Ayyappa then the krithi Appan Avadaritta came back to our minds. The man too seemed strangely still & unmoved; with the pose of the Kanchi Perivar in his Samadhi. I guess this is what we wanted to see. I have heard many an artist who have declared that great art is when you can wring the hearts of the multitudes while feeling nothing yourself. But then the TamBrahm folk have this thing with the language of numbers and a vigorous debate was held declaring the significance of the day because the man had beaten the earlier record of Mysore Vasudevachar who gave up after 95.The debate covered his sense of humour as an anti aging device, the definition of time itself and various other attributes as well as the star Arudra under which he was born.
In the middle of all this came Illayaraja as a gatecrasher. Much to the immediate discomfiture of the hosts he took center stage performing a Kanakabhishekam of 96 gold coins, which he declared was earned from the same trade. The moment was touching impromptu and in fine taste though I greatly feared that the little man’s scalp might get bruised with the gold.
Finally the head priest summed it all up with tears and all; that it was the man’s guru bhakthi that was the very elixir of longevity.
But what did the man have to say?
In clipped sentences he acknowledged that he had beaten all records, accepted the love of all and finally gave a voice over for a SriKrishna Sweets (the sponsors) Ad.
I love this man and friends, I hope this Bheesma pitamaha lives as long as he wishes and there be no bed of arrows as a final rest. Let this be our constitution we bequeath onto ourselves.