‘Shakthi Sahitha Ganapathim’ brings back memories…

Spent very little time learning Veena but I remember playing this one and even singing this one. Even now I do sing it and i remember playing this was fun in teens. Along with ‘Varasiva palam, valli lolam’, ‘Santhatham pahimam’ etc. Now I’ve totally forgotten all that. Literally I am digging back black & white memories from 80s. An entirely painful period it was, probably therefore music except for popular filmy got totally erased out of my system. I do play in my mind a few geethams still. Never a keen music student. Mostly in those days all neighbourhood kids learnt everything in evening classes after school. I was one such routine music student that’s all. As destiny would have it, wherever i went controversy courted that place. My veena teacher was a widow in middle-age who was barred from family for marrying (out of love) her same gotra (or first) cousin. They were outcasts. Mami was a graded AIR artiste, They had no relatives both sides so i was kind of very close to their family. Two people with nobody. I had to stop my lessons as even paying veena tuition fee was proving to be difficult for me.

Did not learn vocal at all but did somewhat in an informal way with my Slokam mami. She was also a widow well into her 60s or 70s perhaps. I remember her longest and blackest hair touching floor but she was bedridden from her 16th year when arthritis struck. She had already lost her husband and was with a newborn child. Her tragic story used to stun me in those days until my own mother happened. She taught us children slokas and vocal carnatic for free mainly to pass time. I could then recite chapters of Bhagvad Gita etc. After her passing, I again lost touch with everything. I for onething remember all but chose to forget Gita. What psychological reason, I don’t know.

But my main sloka teacher was my own mother. Every summer vacation she made us girls learn one sloka completely. One year it was Venkatesa Suprabath, one year it was Kanda sashti kavasam like that.

In too much grief i had stopped going to my sloka class for a few months. One day in my 12th class I think, as I walked back from school I saw a funeral procession. I saw my slokam mami’s son in the front and realized it was her. Her face was covered. I wished I had attended all my classes without quitting. Mami mainly wanted company. Today I have that maturity. But in those young years, my heart was fluttery. Already pained, I didn’t want to see more pain.

My veena teacher was also highly diabetic. Because of her love marriage, her children could not get married in time. She was heartbroken. Her eldest daughter finally tied the knot at 32 years or so finally around the time I married. After that i lost touch with their family. My veena teacher was physically, mentally suffering. That much I was aware. She used to take PTC buses in hot sun to teach at home some privileged kids. I never saw her smile. She must have been then in her late 40s or early 50s. But the family hospitality was great. They had a natural sympathy for me. Fed me always and well! As they had nobody, they used to call on me at home pretty often (without an invite) that would put me at unease! Now I realize the gesture for what it was.

I remember Veena mami asking me frequently for advance on my fees or loan from my father. That again used to irritate/embarrass me. The family was also into huge debts.

My FIL was a great carnatic lover and was always tuned into concerts on radio. He would tell me how he would ride his bullet motorcycle to Thiruvaiyar for the December music festival (Thyagaraja Aradhana). He also frequently rode to Thanjavur etc on his bike just for concerts. Never saw a single Tamil film to my knowledge. His sisters learnt veena at home and all the athais were excellent veena players I believe. When he tried to talk music to me, I was busy with a young family.

Some of my girl cousins/distant cousins/aunts could play veena. It was as if our families were obsessed with veena. Never allowed to play in public or even in temple, but allowed to play only before family. None was a big player.

Only in this generation, owing to acute academic pressure, none in our families is into classical music sadly. Simply no time especially if you pursue MPC stream in higher secondary. All extra curricular activities come to a grinding halt with the eighth standard.

I had an opportunity to relearn carnatic vocal and veena in my 30s and this time i wanted to start from the scratch again on a serious note. For inexplicable reasons, it didn’t materialize.

Anyways. After perhaps decades I am thinking of my veena mami. Such a sad face. Tragic story. Lifelong poverty. Ostracized for entire life. She ran her family entirely on her meagre earnings only. Ondi kuduthanam, a rented tiled (ottu veedu) house. But in those days neighbours took care of such families and were protective. This was one such a family for whom neighbours stood guard.

I don’t believe my veena mami might be alive today. She used to get very sick frequently. All that bus travel etc., did n’t agree with her.

I learnt after years that my teacher’s kids were all finally married as some broadminded families accepted them. (Now of course this may be overlooked. In 70s and 80s, marrying first cousin was still a great taboo that invited social ostracization). It affected her heart that the family paid a big price for reckless love. She so very much regretted even her love because her children were suffering.

I wish I had been more receptive then. I was too much steeped in my own personal problems in those teens that I never gave much attention to my gurus who were living very difficult lives. I was sure my sloka teacher was neglected by her family even if she was living a comfortable life. Hers was an affluent one that provided her well with. She was taught at home by her parents. Sometimes whenever I would go to her place, she would be all alone with no attendant (gone home). She once asked me to put sambrani for her beautiful longest hair holding it, after a maid had given her headbath. She used to ask me to light the diya in a small mandir she had in her room. She would ask me to change/shift her position, scratch etc. Like that I remember her in snatches. She would be spotless still even if she was bedridden, never getting bedsore. Never did away with the sambrani ritual even in that old age. Most of the times she would be alone. But she never meant ill for her family. Never sounded frustrated. She had graciously accepted her life for what it was. Always loving. After my mom passed away, I gave a break but went back to her after she sent for me through some kids . She became even more gentler with me after that. I used to have unpredictable moodswings. I again stopped going to her after a few months. I became erratic with my classes. I have none to blame really but myself. She was one beautiful, elegant lady! She must have been a stunner in her prime age that was wasted away. There were no photos in those days. She used to tell us how she never remembered her husband’s face. He was with her only for 3 months or so when he passed away in a flu or whatever. And she was already carrying his child. No remarriage in this cruel society. But at least her educated family did not confine her to widow’s clothes or force her to shave her head. She lived her entire life within 4 walls literally. An attendant 24 hrs for bed pan etc stayed with her. It was my sloka teacher who insisted that I should learn a bit of vocal because I was doing veena. She was not a trained classical teacher or anything, but she said whatever she knew she would teach me. Although some sloka classes were groups (not more than 2 or 3), carnatic vocal was mostly one-to-one.

That finishes my entire Carnatic sojourn in younger years. Two sad lady teachers. Me one saddest music/sloka student. Most of our times got spent in melancholic recollection of our fates over music lessons honestly. For my veena class, 10 days a month wasted by both of our cycles! Within the 20 days remaining, I had to see my school tests etc. My veena teacher’s BP and sugar would shoot up and she would be rendered to bed for a couple of days every month.

Still I must say, in both their homes I found love that very much mattered to me in those days. I was wanted there. More for talking over music!!! I called both my teachers ‘mami’ only. My sloka teacher I greeted with ‘Hari Om.’

Although no way connected I want to add about my shorthand master.

I joined shorthand and typing by my 11th standard as it was norm in those days. In 3 years I finished my shorthand final in first attempt. My master must have been a septuagenarian. Very old already who retired from secretarial service. Very poor family. His working son never respected him or provided for family. Master used to look at me like his daughter because his daughter was my age (late parenthood for him). I learn she is now living in US. He used to sport a big namam in his face. ONce he came home too. He had big opinion on me because he thought I was a very good student. Father-like. Almost for 3 years weekly thrice or even 5 times I used to take dictation from him. I was his star student. Because of his love and affection, I visited his house frequently too. He invited me home for all festivals. We became family friends. Mami used to feed me well! Wherever I went, food came along! Just the thought of me without a mother and not a secure family used to hurt this gentleman who cared deeply for me in my teens – to an embarrassing level. He is one man whose feet I did touch for namaskaram. I lost touch with him just before I married. Too much happening in my own life. We did not even have basic telephony in those times, at home. He lived in a very cramped 2 room house with poor lighting. It was temple housing complex. For bathroom use he had to climb stairs down everytime. They shared bathrooms with other tenants. Master suffered lifelong. Still there was such a dignity about him. He never spoke of his hardships. I understood his state of affairs just by observing him and his lifestyle and his home and family. What a man. So much affection for me, but how he would hold that in check because I was a young woman and he was bothered that his love must not be construed for anything different. Like, people should not think he was taking advantage of me because of my precarious condition. Old worldly. Very restrained approach but made sure that I knew how much he deeply cared for me. I used to wear knee length skirts etc then., but this was one senior in front of whom I always remembered to appear decent and properly dressed. Perhaps God sent me fatherly love in his ‘roop.’ His name was Ramaswamy. He lives only in my memory. I have no photo of him.

My veena teacher’s name and my sloka teacher’s name I don’t want to disclose. Their folks are still around although I donno where! Neither do I have their pictures. They live only in my memory.

Thinking of these three great humanbeings who touched my life in my teens, whose value i did not honestly cherish then, I am now humbled how without a grudge these decent folks bore their pains and sufferings, never venting on anyone. Rather they filled their hearts with love. For over 5 to 6 years or even more (sometimes concurrent) years once upon a time, they were regular fixtures in my life with whom I spent quite a lengthy time. Very late I realized how all the three tried to get close to me, because they figured I was kind of alone. It was I who maintained that distance never allowing them near me. I hope if at all they had had rebirths, they are born into loving sweet families filled with happiness and sunshine.