Dream a little dream

You know you come across, or experience, certain things in life that seem too good to be true? Literally - too good to be true. The thought is scary. Especially when this happens for two entire days in a row. What if it was a dream? A daydream? Or even one of those imaginary scenarios your mind keeps making up, which you know won't come true? What if?

At least so far, the last weekend spent with Ustad Amjad Ali Khan, Ayaan and Amaan Ali Bangash, seems real.

You read it right. I did really spend the two days with them.

Aai got a mail, a week back, about a workshop on 'Indian Classical Music - A Way Of Life'. I have learned a little bit of Hindustani vocal. I listen to it, a lot, because I like it. But I like Bollywood, too. And basically almost everything apart from hard rock, acid rock and metal. Also, my parents have to push me to get out and go for concerts/workshops/programmes related to classical music; I almost never volunteered. So I wasn't sure if Hindustani stood out, or was it just there, like everything else, only because I happened to 'like' the sound of it?
Then, after I'd already thought all of this, my mother 'mentioned' the names of people who were going to conduct it. Ob..viously, I told her I wanted to go. And go I did.

This workshop was a first of its kind, to be held in our country. It was a new thing for them and for us, of course. But just knowing that they're dealing with an Indian audience on a small scale for the first time gave me some consolation - I wasn't the only one new to this.

When Ustad ji came, after we all settled down, he asked us to give brief introductions of ourselves. I was handed the mic. We have a phrase in Marathi - बोबडी वळणे, which describes what happened aptly. It literally means being tongue-tied. I mean, this apart from the usual - sweaty palms, shaky hands, butterflies exploding in my stomach, dry throat. I forgot how to talk. Thankfully for the human brain, it sort of 'took over the mind and body' and I was able to say my name and how old I was and why I was there. Looking back, it was a pretty good answer!

Ustad ji had us all sing the sargam - sa, re, ga, ma, pa, dha, ni, sa and reverse, first of all things. Next, the teen-taal, being a comparatively easy 'taal' or a time-cycle for beginners to remember. By the time everyone was able to catch hold of the thing, the smart ones (like me, muahahaha) were dying for a performance.
Almost like on cue, Amaan bhai picked up his instrument and announced that he'd be starting off with Raag Raageshri. Ayaan bhai and him had performed it at the Kala Ghoda Festival earlier this year, so I knew the composition. For a good five minutes, we all were lost. But more was to come, so we had to come back from our worlds, for good.

The way Ustad ji spoke, the words he chose, the pauses he took. His humbleness, his honesty, his truthfulness. His perspective. I wanted to learn it all. Could I?

I did learn. If not all this, then other, equally important things about music.
It's all there, right in front of us, but we don't see it.
He says, "music loses its purity when it becomes a song". It's so true that I questioned the entirety of the "music" I've been listening to.

I do think Indian Classical music is a way of life. Just like we have moods, every raag has moods, and so does every taal. The way we sing, play our instrument, says a lot about how we live. I wouldn't have believed any of this, had it not come from Ustad ji himself. And he actually proved it by playing Raag Bhairavi for us, and making us 'feel' the happiness. Not everyone can do that. Bhairavi has 4 flat, or 'komal', notes. These make the raag beautiful, but grey. Among the various times that I've heard Bhairavi, this was the first time I felt happy, like there was no sorrow at all.

In the nine years that I've been acquainted with Hindustani music, this was the first time I 'felt' something toward it. I also know that whatever little that I thought I knew was rubbish, and I know what I want to, and hope to, learn.
I have never been more happy to be back to square one. Starting to learn from scratch is da shizz.

This workshop has been the best thing that's happened to me. And I now know what exactly it is when they say, "he graced us with his presence".

PS Ustad ji is THE king of sarcasm. Just sayin'. (Wink!)