From ship to stage in 90 days...

I nearly embarked on a musical voyage; my mother struck the note of caution

As a young marine engineer, I lived with my parents in Mysore when on leave from the ships. One morning, a man in traditional South Indian garb walked in through our front gate. He had the characteristic marks of a scholar – a white dhoti and an angavastram across his upper body, sandalwood paste on the forehead and an elegant kudumi. He exuded an air of authority. 

“Namaskaram, I teach music to children,” he said, glancing over my shoulders.

I told him that I was the youngest of the household. At 26, I wouldn’t qualify. He was not dissuaded. He could clearly read the disappointment on my face. “Adults can learn music too. I could teach you, if you like?”

Now, I had never considered taking music lessons. My life being split between the sea and land, there was no opportunity to embark on such a learning project either. I replied, “Unfortunately, I work on ships. I have only three months before I rejoin.”

“Plenty of time. Start tomorrow and you’ll be giving a concert before you leave.” He was persuasive. I always suspected there was a musician hiding within me. Here was my guru, coming to unleash my talent on the world.

I didn’t need further encouragement and agreed. He asked me to be ready the next day with a picture of Saraswati, a coconut and other paraphernalia for conducting a Guru pooja. His fee of 3000 rupees was to be paid after the pooja. He left happy, the morning sun eclipsed by the glow on his smiling face. 

My mother had only seen him leave and asked me who he was. I informed her that he was to be my music teacher and we were embarking on a project to turn me into a professional Karnatic vocalist in three months. 

“Are you mad?” she asked, hand on partly open mouth in the typical South Indian gesture for incredulity. 

She quickly convinced me that I was being had. I couldn’t argue with her. She was formally instructed in classical music for over two decades. 

“Leave it to me. I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” she reassured me. 

The following morning, the conversation between the teacher and my mother was along the following lines:

“Sir, did you tell my son he could give a vocal performance in three months?”

“Ah... Hmm... well, yes.” 

“After seven years of vocal training, my guru said my seven swarams (notes) were just correct. How can you train a beginner to give a concert in three months?”

“Amma, your son was very keen. I have six children to feed.” 

Mother gifted him a coconut, a brand new dhoti and Rs 101. He left, a nimbus cloud darkening his amiable face. I emerged from behind the refrigerator. To this day, the inner musician within me remains trapped.