Reflections of a restless eccentric

This year has been difficult for all of us. Over the past couple of months, I have felt an overwhelming hesitation whenever I look at a blank screen and try to write. Add to that a time crunch, and you see why my posts are dwindling down. But, there's another reason. Ever since the lockdown, life has felt listless at times. I look around, and I see the struggles of so many people. I wonder, what is it that I can write about to alleviate some of this dystopia? Silence greets me. Today though, I see a glimmer of an answer, and I attempt to bring some peace and happiness through this series of articles I call "moments". Here goes! The subject of my article and my latest delight is this tiny cassette player. Yes, you heard that right! In today's era of music streaming services, it is doubtless an anachronism. Yet, it brings a smile on my face. Let me elaborate. In my childhood, we always had crazy mornings. There would be breakfast and lunch getting prepared, my parents a...

 My journey with music began as a toddler of 3 and a half years. My mother noticed that music soothed me when I was tempestuous and excited me when I was morose, and like several other South Indian mothers, immediately concluded that I should learn Carnatic Music, and the earlier the better. She sent me off to a teacher who was conveniently located next door, and who already taught a few people. The teacher looked at me in disbelief, as I hadn't even started kindergarten yet. She told my mother that I was too young, and that she should probably wait another year, but my mother was insistent. They finally came to the conclusion that I would be allowed to sit at the back of the class and listen, and that she would consider teaching me after a few months. So I went to class twice a week, and soon enough, I started singing along. My teacher changed her mind, and took me into her fold of students. I learnt this way for a year and a half, without understanding the grammar of a raga, with...

Sometimes I drift off into imaginary worlds. While I inhabit those, I breathe the air of books and drink the elixir of music. My brain might be one of an engineer, but my soul is that of an artist. I am a connoisseur of words, a patron of music. These are my first loves, and they will remain my last ones too. But weirdly enough, the two never converge - when I try to write about music, I fall short of words. I am loathe to give up though, and in this post I shall try to express a handful of the most powerful musical experiences in my life. (My previous post on music-  The colors of music ) The very beginning . As a toddler, I used to be very restless. I had a mercurial temper, and my parents would struggle to calm me down. They'd joke about my name : We named you serenity, but the opposite would be more appropriate. One time when I was angry, my mom turned on the tape recorder, and the first wave of quintessential Carnatic music hit me. My parents say that it tamed me. That I s...