Freakonomics radio - the health of nations

Came across this discussion today... Found it really interesting. One important highlight was their analysis of differences in the governance of indian states. An example of GDP driven states being Gujrat and AP and how they are not as progressive as it is expected of this model. On the contrary there is Kerala wherethe focus is on literacy and healthcare and the state has successfully achieved this. Another highlight is Kerala is as poor as harlem in NY, USA ....

It has no name...

When we start looking for stories, we are drifting from what is real. When the art looks for the audience and tries to become what people want it to, then it is no more an art. It is a commodity. Art and society are complimentary to each other and they can’t survive without each other.

But any creative thought should not be restricted with the thought, “will this be accepted?”

I have been looking around and thinking of writing my experiences but all the time, I am worried about the conclusion. When I am writing my diary, I freely flow, I drift, I catch hold of a thought, and I pen it down, without worrying what the preceding thought was or what the subsequent thought would be. I can write on and on, because it is not meant to be read. I am not worried about people’s reactions or acceptance and otherwise. It is an outflow of emotions; it is natural and not definitive. But when I blog, I am worried as to “how will I find an end?”, “what will be the ending?”, “how do I conclude” and that kills the spirit of writing. I read and admire what great people have written and then think about how they would have achieved this. At times, I am just numb, reading them. And this amazes me no ends.

I remember watching a movie called 'Alaap'. The movie is about the struggle of a musician, who happens to be the son of an aristocrat. Their principles and outlooks clash and he struggles and finds his way. The musician’s name is Alok. Although, Alok is a great musician, he is looking for a teacher. Art has no upper limit and it is always growing. Alok comes to know of an old lady, who lives in a slum. At one time, she used to be a courtesan and was a legendary singer. When Alok visits her and expresses his wish to learn music from her, she makes him sing, to test his mettle and evaluate if he is really worth it. He sings and she likes what he sang. Technically, he knows the nuances of music and is a good singer. But then what she says next, touched my heart and I would remember it for life. She says to her care-taker, “Ladke ki awaaz achchee hai, magar abhi dard nahi hai. Zindagi mein jab tak dard nahi hai, suron ki samajh adhoori hai”. The care-taker responds, “jab tak inhe apna dard na mile, aap apna gham baant leejiye”. And then the story flashes back in her life. I would not do justice in attempting to translate this to English, but I will attempt. I would not do a literal translation. It meant, “The quality of boy’s voice is nice but it lacks depth and meaning of life. Till the time, you have not experienced life in its crudest form, your knowledge of music (read art), is incomplete”. And the response was “So until, he experiences his own life and his soul is touched, you share your journey so far with him”

This made me think, can art really be standalone? Can art and life be two different entities? My answer is no. And then, I got thinking, that any art form, that has touched the hearts of people, has been felt and created. Ghalib’s sufferings made people feel him and live him each day. If today, anyone can identify with what he wrote and fell, that the words are a voice to our emotional state today, it is because, AsadUllah Khan Ghalib, was not writing to be accepted and be popular. Bahadur Shah Zafar, underwent his trials and each verse he wrote, was his expression of self. Generations later, we still know what it is, ‘Na kisi ki aankh ka noor hu, na kisi ke dil ka qarar hu, ju kisi ke kaam na aa sake main who ek musht-e-gubar hu’.

Life is a many splendored thing. It is much beyond the capacity and potential of words. The vocabulary will have a limit, but not life and its experiences; hence the free arts.

Dussera 2010 - Pt. Ravishankar Concert

Sunday, October 17, 2010 at 11:41pm
This is just a humble attempt ... an attempt to describe the experience I had tonight. And I consider it a real blessing that I got to attend Pt. Ravi Shankar's concert a second time in my life. 

Some moments just remain with you forever. They freeze in your heart. I would remember this evening as is. You know it is such a moment that Wordsworth described in his poem "To Daffodils" --

"For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils." 

Pandit jee is now 90 yrs old. He started playing Sitar since the age of 10. His personality reflects humility and simplicity; And that is incredible considering his immense contribution to the world music. He addressed the audience before his performance and shared a hearty news about his daughter. When he was mentioning that news, he was just a proud father and not this master musician; when he played with his daughter and the tabla guru - Tonmoy Bose, he smiled like a contented teacher; And when audience gave him a standing ovation, he was a down-to-earth, modest artist.

The concert began with a carnatic music performance with a brilliant jugalbandi between tabla and flute. Then we heard the evening raag - Raag bageshawari accompanied by jhaptaal on tabla. It stirred so many emotions. It was music in its purest form. All through the day I had this terrible headache and it was unbelievable how without any medicine or coffee, my headache went off just by indulging in some blissful music.

The second part of the performance was the brilliant raag manj khamaj which blends several taals in it. If you hear this raag you would feel you have heard parts of it in so many songs and background scores in movies. You could just close your eyes and let it all go.

Nothing could have been a better celebration of Dussera. I loved being there. I loved each moment of it. It was really truly a divine experience.

I wish it was longer.And to sum it all up, I just would quote Shakespeare's Twelfth Night act 1 scene 1 -

"If music be the food of love... Play on!"

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