“Neerkumizhi Saakshi (The water bubble is the witness)”
My paternal grandmother never attended any school. She was an illiterate in the real sense of the term. But she had hard common sense and a natural flair for story telling. As the youngest of five children, I had the maximum advantage
of this. She would pour out many many stories, some from the puraanas and some from the village history. Many others were woven beautifully by her fertile imagination. All her stories were suitable to my age at the particular time. It was her intention that I should absorb them fully as practically all of them contained a moral or a lesson for the future practical life. The one which I am narrating now, was told when I was about 10 years of age i.e. more than 60 years ago.
Two vedic scholars from a village near my place had been invited to participate in a religious function at a far off place. They were able to travel part of the distance by bullock carts, but the rest had to be covered on foot. A good part was through uninhabited or sparsely populated areas and jungles. They reached their venue safely and participated very successfully in the function. Their knowledge was very much appreciated and they were richly rewarded with materials, gold and cash.
On their way back, they were caught in heavy downpour with loud claps of thunder, in mid-jungle. So they took shelter in an old dilapidated structure, which was unoccupied. Day turned into dusk and soon it was night. It was very dark and gloomy and rain was not abating. Their gay conversation of the morning soon faded into total silence and a pall of gloom descended on them. Suddenly one of them got up and told the other. “Look, after this trip, I do not want to venture out of our village. We have earned enough during this trip.” The other one simply laughed and said. “You may be satisfied, but I am not. In fact, I could do with a lot more wealth and I am prepared to venture out.” Soon an argument ensued and the first one accused the second one of greed while the latter stung the other with the remark that he was a lazy coward. A quarrel broke out and the one who showed greed said “all right. Since you say that I am greedy, I intend to take your share also. I am going to kill you. No one comes this way. The wild animals and carrion crows will eat away your body. I shall tell the people in the village that you went out alone and probably lost your way. No one will hear even if you shout. There is no witness to the murder nor will there be anyone to find out about it in future.” The other one pleaded for mercy and seeing that the first one was bent upon carrying out his threat, he said “look, there are ripples in the rain water. You may think that they are inanimate and have a very short life as they burst in minutes. But I call upon them to be witness of this horrible act of yours and to expose you.”” He said in Tamil “Neerkumizhi Saakshi” when the other one strangled him to death.
The other one went back to his village. He made a big scene as though he had lost a close relative and told the people that his companion, such a nice person, went out alone and was killed by robbers. Over a period of time, the incident was forgotten. After a few years, the person went again on a long trip for a similar function. This time also, he was accompanied by someone. While returning, they were caught up in rain again and had to take shelter in a similar shack. Both of them had similar qualities and both were bantering and bragging about their exploits. The rain water was rushing in a swirl and ripples were caused. Unwittingly, the murderer let out a peal of laughter and said “the fool who accompanied me earlier, appealed to the water bubble to be witness of my act when I finished him off. Can a bubble last for more than a minute?” But unfortunately for him, a representative of the magistrate who had also gone out on an errand, was taking shelter in another corner of the shack. He was not noticed by the two as it was quite dark and the rain and thunder and their own voices were drowning outside noises. Immediately, he was pounced upon by the law officer, who bound him hand and foot and produced him before the magistrate. A search of his house revealed the articles robbed from the deceased person. Trial was much quicker and decisive in those days and release on technical grounds or hair-splitting of law and language was not permitted. The offender was beheaded quickly.
Concluding her narrative my grandmother said “ No one should think that he is unseen, that his acts and omissions will go unnoticed and therefore he can indulge in unethical or criminal acts. Even the elements will get the power to notice and reveal the correct state of affairs at the appropriate time. If one escapes for some time, it is only to get a more stringent punishment. If the human agencies fail in this, then nature will take over and inflict a more agonizing punishment.”
I used to wonder at this statement. But later I came across a Sanskrit verse which runs as under:
“Aadithyachandraavanilonalascha dyowrbhoomiraapo hridayam yamascha
ahascha raathrischa ubhe cha sandhye Dharmascha jaanaathi narasya vrittham”
“the sun, moon, Vaayu (air) agni (fire) the sky, earth, water, ones own mind, Yama the God of death, the day, the night , the two Sandhyas i.e. dawn and dusk as well as the Lord Dharma (righteousness) know the actions and omissions of all.”
These are always watching us. While fourteen of these are external, the mind, being internal, knows not only what we do or do not do, but also what We THINK.
That makes one point clear. In any criminal case, the prosecution has to prove not only that a criminal act has been committed, but that there was MENS REA that is criminal intention. Very often this aspect is not proved because motive is not established.
Thus many a criminal escapes punishment even if other aspects are proved. But our ancient wisdom puts one word of caution to the criminal who feels elated when he is exonerated for want of clinching evidence. “Remember, your mind is not only the unseen witness to your actions, but it is in complete knowledge of your thought process, your intentions, the factors which led you to behave in a particular fashion, the loss, physical injury and mental agony you have inflicted upon others, the undue advantage you have derived for yourself or for others. You can escape the external arms of the Law but that mind is always there till you die to punish you at the appropriate time.” Rarely though, it goes one step further and even after death, the body is ill treated by people who have been wronged.
One need not go far to realize the truth of these statements. I recollect several instances of persons who perpetrated frauds and escaped the clutches of law and legitimate punishment. But their end was miserable. In some cases, the divine retribution came much sooner and caused immense suffering to them. Take the classic example of Harshad Mehta who caused loss of crores of rupees to many. He escaped immediate punishment while innocent persons suffered agony during the investigation and lost jobs or had to be in black list for years.
Mehta was hailed as an expert in stocks and securities manipulation and he even addressed some gatherings. But ultimately, at the age of 49, he died while in prison. Some time back, there was a news item that one of his flats which was sealed by the legal authorities for several years, was leaking and emitting strong stench and the people of the neighbouring flats had applied for opening of the flat. The same comments apply to people who torment others in various ways which do not come under the legal definition of crime. Even they cannot escape divine retribution.
The irony is that very often, the culprits cry out when they receive punishment at the hands of Fate “Oh God, do I deserve this? Have pity on me”. Some try to compensate for their wrongful actions by liberal charity. How this will act as an atonement for their misdeeds, is a moot question.
No doubt, clever lawyers, manipulators and manouverers can get reprieve to the criminals for some time. But then, Fate never leaves them.
Before concluding I think we should say a word about the abettors and passive onlookers who could and should have done something to prevent a misdeed. The Indian penal code makes it clear that abettors are to be punished. The others too cannot be let off easily. Mahabharatha says that for the sin of uttering a falsehood which was sought to be made true by manipulation, Yudhishtira had to witness suffering of sinners in Hell. He uttered “Aswatthhama hathah kunjarah” which helped to disarm Dronacharya and to kill him. Even talking ill of great people and indulging in mud-slinging or maligning other peoples’ character is bad. Kaalidaasa goes one step further. He says in his Kumaara sambhavam “Na kevalam yo mahathopabhaashathe srinothi thasmaadapi yah sa paapabhaak (not only the one who abuses great persons, but even the one who listens to it is a sinner).
It is not as though people are not aware of this. They are very much aware. But what happens is that they look at the ultimate downfall of an unscrupulous person or criminal, not as an instance of Divine Retribution, but as a lack of cleverness on his part. They say “the fool should have anticipated the pitfalls and risk element in his ventures and devised ways to get over them.” It never occurs to them that they have to succumb to the Will of the Almighty sooner or later. All the stories in our puraanas indicate how, evil-minded people, demons and asuras, performed austere penance to propitiate Gods and got boons whereby they thought they had hedged themselves against defeat by other forces. The story of Hiranyakasipu, Raavana, Bhasmaasura and so on and so forth go to prove that however much they try to protect themselves from the hands of God, ultimately, the Divine Will finds a loophole in their boons and destroys them en bloc. .
Raja Bharthrihari says “Vyaghreeva Thishtthathi Jara Paritharjjayanthee, Rogaascha Sathrava Iva Praharanthi Deham, Aayuh Parisravathi Bhinnaghataadivaambhoh, Lokasthatthhaapyahithamaacharatheethi Chithram”.
(Old age stands threatening us like a tigress; Diseases torture us like enemies; Life flows out like water from a cracked pot; It is a wonder that still people continue to engage themselves in misdeeds and unethical practices.) Curiously enough, very often, the people who do these are themselves adepts at quoting Bhagavath Geetha and Dharmasaasthram, Hithopadesam etc when it applies to other people – clear examples of Devil quoting the Scriptures.
“”Sathyameva jayathe”” is ok. But the question is, “”when does it really emerge victorious””? Until that time comes, evil forces hold sway over good ones. That is where we are led to believe in the theory of past karmas. One who comes into this earth with a load of past sins has to suffer till they are washed off, even though he may be a virtuous person in this birth. In the same manner, one who has accumulated punyam or the benefit of good deeds in the past, will continue to enjoy fruits of his past good deeds till they are exhausted even though he indulges in bad deeds.
Again we are led to Bharthrihari’s words “””Bheemam vanam bhavathi thasya puram pradhaanam/ Sarvo janah sujanathaam upayaathi thasya// Krithsna cha bhoorbhavathi sannidhirathnapoorna/ Yasyaassthi poorvasukritham vipulam narasya// ( To that person who has vast poosravapunyam,even the dense forest becomes (as comfortable as) his capital city, all people will be good to him, the entire earth will be full of gems and gold)””
What Bharthrihari has not mentioned in this sloka is the fact that very often such persons become arrogant over a period of time and indulge in bad deeds. But he makes up for it in the sloka quoted earlier. The evils of excessive prosperity are more dangerous than those of poverty. One should be very fortunate to be level-headed and good even in times of prosperity.
My prayer in this birth has always been that, come what may, I should not develop unhealthy and socially unacceptable temptations and desires which have a tendency to snow-ball, nor should I be associated with people who have these. Probably some of these can be fulfilled only through unethical means. Even if I live and die in penury and misery, let me not swerve from the path of virtue traversed by noble souls. Let me firmly hold on to the advice “”Sprihaneeyagunairmahaathmabhischarithe Varthmani yacchhathaam Manah/ Vidhihethurahethuraagasaam vinipaathoapi samah samunnatheh”” (May the mind be bestowed on the virtuous path traversed by great persons. Even failure which is attributable to Fate (circumstances beyond one’s control) and not to mistakes on ones part are to be considered as equal to success.””
I do realize that I have touched upon two distinct aspects in the write up viz. i) that all our actions, utterances and even thought processes are under constant surveillance by certain forces and none can escape reward or retribution as the case may be, which Fate meets out to each person based on the surveillance; and,
ii) the results of our past karmas follow us in the present birth; hence it is unwise to be excessively elated at our successes and “”lose our heads”” and it is unnecessary to become too much depressed and “”lose our hearts”” if things do not work out in our favour.
May be, I should have put them in two issues. But I am not enunciating any new concept. I have only tried to re-state what is known to most people, but which people tend to forget often. So long as readers find the matter useful, I shall be satisfied.
P.G.KRISHNAMOORTHY
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Monday, December 20, 2010
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Sri Palghat Mani Iyer - Reminiscences of my association with him
“ Poornathvam petra oru vidwaanaippatri pesuvatho ezhuthuvatho poornathvatthai adaiyaathu” (Any attempt to write or speak about a Vidwan, whose personality is complete and comprehensive in itself, is bound to be incomplete). A great man wrote these lines while describing some of the virtues of Sri Ariyakkudi Ramanuja Iyengar, in an article contributed to the Tamil magazine kalki which was reproduced in the souvenir published while celebrating the completion of 50 years after the latter’s debut as a carnatic music performer. The writer, Sri Palghat Mani Iyer, was himself worthy of such a compliment. He was and ocean, deep and vast, unfathomable in depth, immeasurable in expanse and full of “gems of purest ray serene”, beyond the ken of the common man and therefore sometimes dubbed as unpredictable. He ruled supreme as the uncrowned king in the carnatic percussion field for over 50 years and left a style distinct and well-developed, for hundreds of to follow. Like the mighty ocean, he had immense capacity to influence the course of any concert in which he took part and make it brilliant, even where the main artiste was not in form. Like the mighty ocean, which, although it encircles the entire land, exhibits different characteristics in different places, which is perceived differently by different persons and which serves diverse purposes, he too was viewed and his actions evaluated variously by different people. Some worshipped him like a God, some attempted to emulate his style in handling the instrument, some his personal styles – hairstyle, dress, gait, habits and mannerisms while some others covertly criticized and vilified him. Sri M.S.Ramaiah, a senior mridangist at Bangalore, was muttering to himself after listening to this great artiste in 1978 at a concert “ Ucchistam - what we are having as knowledge of percussion instrument, consists of the leftovers from this man’s performance. Can we ever learn enough to understand and appreciate him, not to speak of coming anywhere near him in performance!” Yet there were others who covertly despised him, accused him as unorthodox, lacking in consistency of views and even stubborn.
My object in this write-up is only to put down some of the occurrences, anecdotes and observations during my association with this great man, which would afford some glimpses of his personality, his keen intellect, his large-heartedness, his ideals, his vision and perception that impressed me and which have been guiding me as a beacon light in my own life, both official and personal.
One thing which comes uppermost in the reminiscences, is his forthrightness and courage of conviction. I am reminded of two incidents which I had personally witnessed and one or two which had been narrated to me by the Master. It was at the Experts Committee demonstrations during the annual music festivals of the Music Academy at Madras on a Sunday morning in the Sixties. The pandal in the courtyard of the auditorium was packed to capacity and many were standing outside. The session included a demonstration of ‘Jadis’ set to different thaalams by a guest artiste from Andhra Pradesh. The special feature was that he would be indicating the Angams of different Thaalams simultaneously using both the hands, both the feet, the shoulders and the head, while uttering the Jadis. The Thaalams having different maathras, would synchronise after several rounds, at which point, the Jadis would also end. Starting with two different Thaalams counted on two hands, the artiste, demonstrated the feat of oral presentation of Jadis, keeping seven different Thaalams simultaneously. The applause from the audience was spontaneous and many admired the performance. Master, however, stood up and asked the artiste a few pertinent questions. He asked the artiste whether he could indicate the calculations or at least generally state the principles underlying the demonstration. The reply was in the negative. Then he asked the artiste whether he could state any part of the jadis in the three speeds (Thrikaalam). The reply was again in the negative. The next question was whether the artiste could put any portion of the Jadis into a different ‘gathi (nadai)’ like ‘Thisram’ and again this drew blank. Finally, he asked the artiste whether in simple Aadi Thaalam, he could say “Thakadhimi” seven times, followed by a “Thadhikinathom, thus coming to ‘level’ in the fifth round”” Still there was no positive response. Meanwhile, the audience was hurling all sorts of insults against Master. They said that he had no business to question an honoured guest artiste; that it was his uncurbed arrogance which made him do this; that he was unnecessarily teasing and exposing the artiste’s weakness and they even shouted “can you do such a feat?”. We were really worried as to what would happen. Master, however, stood up calmly, raised his voice and said “ I am one with you in appreciating the difficult feat performed by the artiste, but pleases remember that this is a session of the Experts Committee in the music field. Any discussion or demonstration will have to be related to the theory and practice of music. If a performance cannot be explained in terms of these, it may partake of the nature of acrobatics only and, however difficult and novel it may be, this is not the forum to exhibit it. We are entitled to know how far the performer can relate it to the general principles”. I could see the persons who had shouted against Master, acknowledging the correctness of his argument - “ of course, that is true” was all that they said. His perception was different and lofty.
A second occasion was in late 70’s, when I saw his firrnness in sticking to principles. A function had been arranged in memory of Master’s coeval and fellow student under the late Sri Chaatthappuram Subbaier. In the evening, there was a music programme at which percussion support was provided by Master. As usual, it had been announced that there would be no loudspeaker arrangement. The organizers had allowed unrestricted entry of listeners, little realising the consequences. After a very good start, the artiste had got into saint Thyagaraja’s ‘Dinamani vamsa’ in Harikaambhoji The audience had increased in number and as the hall was in a temple complex, there were external disturbances. Audibility of the music was therefore low. There were requests from the audience for provision of a loudspeaker. Master told the organisers to explain to the audience that the kutcheri was announced as a mikeless concert and that if they had patience, in a matter of minutes, their ears would get adjusted to the sound. Still, there were persistent calls for a loudspeaker and it was likely that there would be trouble. Any other person would have yielded and agreed to the provision of loudspeaker which could have been arranged soon. But Master simply asked the veena vidwan to play ‘Mangalam” and concluded the concert, notwithstanding the threats of injury to his person unless the concert was continued with loudspeaker. Of course, nothing untoward happened; usually, nothing untoward happens to one who takes a bold stand on the basis of declared principles.
A lot has been said about his aversion to loudspeakers for the performances in which he took part. A few years before he declared it as his policy to avoid the microphone in his performances, I was with him at one of the concerts in the Egmore Museum Theatre, Madras. That was the time when at Madras, Bharathanatyam and Dramas were holding sway among the music and fine arts sabhas. Light music was also gaining prominence and carnatic music programmes, even by celebrated artistes, did not have as much of an appeal for the audiences as before. To tell the truth, including the artistes on the stage, we were only about 75 persons in the hall for the programme. After the programme, Master told the organizers “ Look, this is going to be the pattern for quite some time. Carnatic music is not going to draw large audience. Why pollute the music with microphone, which will distort the sound and sometimes make it very unpleasant? I am prepared to reduce my rates substantially, if you avoid it during my programmes”.
In later years, he imposed a total ban on mike for his programmes. He had several reasons for this. When I had become sufficiently close to him to discuss these matters, without much of inhibitions, I asked him, whether, in his opinion, mike was responsible for our losing the voice culture technique. The response was quick and emphatic. He said “where is the doubt? It is only that kutthuvelakku – he compared the mike to the traditional oil lamp lit at our worship – which spoils the voice. (Samsayam enna, andha kutthu velakku thaan kedukkarathu). If one wants to strengthen and refine his voice, he should sing at ‘ 2 ½ kattai’ and it should be full-throat, full-volume effort, if possible, in the open, preferably sitting on the terrace of the building”. He had, of course, male singers in his mind while saying this. He also believed that, with fairly good acoustics in the concert hall, the listening power of the audience would substantially improve within minutes and get adjusted to the absence of the mike. After his decision to do away with the mike, he gave scores of performances, accompanying vocal and instrumental music, including mellow ones like veena. .Many of these were in quite large auditoriums and to fully packed audiences. Music lovers did enjoy the performances. He had the knack of ensuring that his handling of the mridangam, never affected the audibility of the rendering by the other artistes and all the time, it embellished these and brought the performances to full-blossomed beauty. I am reminded of a remark by Trichur Sri Sankara Menon, one of the old veteran mridangists of the times of doyens like Kallidaikurichi Sri Vedantha Bhaagavathar. He used to say that a mridangist would pass through four stages before becoming a competent accompanist. According to him, these were “Adi (uncontrolled sound), Idi (muffled, but identifiable pattern of sound) kottu (a fair degree of clarity in sollukkattu, but loud in volume) and Vaayana (clear and appropriate sollukkattu rendered with pleasing and sweet naadam). Practice and nothing but practice would elevate one from stage to stage. Master had practiced endlessly, researched every facet of construction and potential of the instrument, its preparation for use at different types of concerts and handling under all circumstances. He had amply substantiated his views on the supremacy of mikeless concerts and his ability to handle the mridangam in an exceedingly effective manner to support the main artiste, whoever it was. In his hands it was truly a ‘mridu angam’ (soft and sweet instrument), an aspect of this percussion instrument, which, long back, Sri Kunisseri Mani Iyer, who taught me for some time, used to stress. Of course, Master used to bring the effect of a super-fast jet speed or a tempestuous thunderclap to enliven or prop up a slackening tempo or sagging performance of the main artiste. Why should he not have his way?
His respect for traditional values and maintenance of standards was phenomenal. In the article on Sri Ramanuja iyengar, referred to at the beginning, Master wrote “ Melum naadavidyayyil puthithu puthithaaka cheivatharku viseshamaaka onrumillai; Cheithathaye thirumba thirumba thapas pannuvathupola cheithu arul peruvathuthaan mukkiyam enpathu en abhipraayam (further, there is nothing particularly novel to be done (invented) in naada vidya (music). In my opinion, doing the same thing over and over again like doing penance and be blessed, is the important thing).”” That is essence of any branch of fine art. Refinement and adding aesthetic appeal by constant practice should be the aim of any artiste. Fertile imagination and assiduous practice are absolutely necessary.
He knew that perfection was impossible; he was fully aware that one should make allowance for many imponderables and external forces, but he never slackened his efforts towards achievement of perfection. He would never compromise on quality, be it his personal attire, the maintenance and even the general appearance of his instruments or the planning and performance of a kutcheri. He had expressed his immense happiness at the increasing spread of classical South Indian music in recent times. But he lamented the deteriorating standards of practice. It was not as though he was unaware of the problems of the present day students of the art, such as, lack of time, diversions and the need to be well up in general knowledge and awareness of the happenings so as to be able to converse and compete where necessary, with others in the society. More than anything else, he accepted the practical impossibility of taking to music as the sole occupation or profession at least in the initial stages, due to the change in the economic and social scenario. He shared the feeling of some of the old-timers that the role of amateurs in fostering traditional arts would become increasingly prominent in times to come. (I recall a conversation which I had with late Sri Rajamanickam Pillai in 1966, if I remember right, when he was bed-ridden. I had expressed the constraints in practising mridangam due to my touring job and said that all the same, if someone could measure the sincerity and devotion to music, it would probably be found that it existed as much in the amateurs as in the professionals. He said “lakshatthil oru vaartthai” and added that spread of music and its development in times to come will depend solely on the interest and the efforts of general public and notably amateur artistes, as old time samasthanams and princely houses were disintegrating). And yet, Master did feel that practice of Carnatic music - be it vocal or instrumental – had to be more strenuous and well-structured. Complacency and compromises had no place in the development of art, nor did he accept the craze for quick results, abandoning quality. He had once referred to the lack of care in learning or teaching the fingering and formation of sollu in the initial stages. A student must develop awareness of the potentialities of the instrument which he handles and also what type of fingering would bring out the best notes from it. Dedication and concentration were basic necessities. He would say “ take the example of an American learning mridangam. Once he is instructed to keep his thumb hooked to support the forefinger and to keep his middle finger raised to produce a particular sound, he will never forget it. (Master admired their attention to details and emphasis on maintaining quality). But our boys will have to be reminded often; if not, they will allow their fingers to spread out like the legs of a spider”. He would say that if a student approached as a ‘fresher’ or in the early stages, it would be possible to re-set the fingering. But if he had reached the advanced stages, the fingering would have already set and few would have the inclination or patience to practice the ‘paatakkai’ to correct the fingering. The advantages of a little longer practice and attention to the first lessons could not be ignored.
Likewise, he had his own views about music competitions and schemes for selection of candidates for award of scholarships, etc. It was his firm conviction that there should be a minimum standard of performance to be expected from the competitors and awarding of prizes or selection for scholarships should not be on the basis of ‘the best among those who participated.’ He narrated an incident when, as judges on the panel for selecting eligible candidates for scholarship in a very advanced stage of learning of music, himself and the late Sri Alathur Srinivasa Iyer, had boldly expressed their view that none of the participants had the minimum standard required for the award.
His criticism was never destructive. He had a genuine concern for improvement. He had done everything possible to encourage younger artistes by tendering advice, by accompanying them at concerts and guiding them and unreservedly complimenting them when they did well. In this respect, he had no complexes, no airs and never was he casual or half-hearted. In fact, he had looked into all aspects right from the seating arrangements, selection and sequencing of krithis and building their morale and mutual understanding before the performances. I distinctly remember a rather difficult situation which master diffused very beautifully and ensured the conduct of an excellent concert. I had moved over to Bangalore in the last week of August 1976.. Master was to give a performance at a sabha .in October 1976. I met him at his lodgings at 11 a.m. The first thing he mentioned to me on seeing me was that there was a problem and it was even likely that the concert might be cancelled. The sabha had, after some unsavoury experiences, decided that artistes engaged for programmes would be offered a remuneration, which would include the cost of travel, board, lodging and incidental expenses. The sabha would help in booking accommodation, travel tickets, etc. but on no account would they pay the bills for these. It was up to the artistes to pay them. In this particular case, the main artiste had not accepted these terms and had insisted that their remuneration was exclusive of the expenses of travel, stay and incidentals, which the sabha had to meet. There was a stalemate and finally, the sabha had sent a telegram asking the artistes to come, but it had not mentioned anything about the main issue. The artistes had come and they had taken up lodging in the hotel. No representative of the sabha met them at the railway station or at the hotel, though the performance was to commence at 4.15 p.m. The artistes were firm that unless the representatives of the sabha undertook to meet the bills for accommodation and other expenses, they would not perform and they would return to Madras. It had now turned out to be a matter of prestige also.
Master asked me to immediately rush to the sabha office and convince the office-bearers to send a representative to meet the artistes at the hotel and reconcile the differences. It was a question of the prestige and good name of the artistes and the sabha and more than anything else, avoiding disappointment to music lovers from all parts of the city, who would be thronging the auditorium in a few hours. He was a good conciliator. In a matter of minutes, he was able to counsel the parties to settle the differences. The concert got off to a good start as scheduled and drew rounds of applause after applause.
One curious thing I found, when I joined Master at the hall, was that the artistes were seated on a carpet on the floor, abandoning the stage. Master explained that he had suggested this arrangement as he found the platform too high and far away from the audience. His ideas of audience rapport and involvement were excellent.
I was with him when he accompanied Sri Chittibabu at one of the Chamber music sabhas at Madras. The code of conduct for the listeners was very stringent. They were to be in their seats well before the commencement of the concert; they should not clap their hands or make any sound during the performance and they should not also leave the auditorium before the conclusion of the programme. The concert was excellent and the Thani Aavartthanam was in Misra Chaapu.( if I remember right, after the krithi “neethu charanamule”). As usual, the Thani was crisp and colourful, but the audience had to keep silent. Chittibabu applauded loudly and asked “why are you bowing down to restrictions on your freedom to appreciate a masterly effort like this?” and there was a thunderous applause. Master said that in our system, the artiste expected open expression of encouragement and appreciation. In this he drew a comparison with western audience which is ‘ very polite, disciplined and respectful, but which reserves its applause till the completion of a piece or sometimes, the entire concert’. He narrated his own experience in England, where he was given due respect and standing ovation after his performance. He said it was all very good, but he really missed the visual and audible expression of appreciation during a raga exposition or a sangathi or good swaraprasthaaram or Thani, which he was used to, back home. It must be recalled that he accepted very few engagements abroad.
Master used to say that normally, a good part of our audience for a concert comprise those who ‘love’ music than those who know the intricacies. A good artiste should, therefore, take note of this important aspect while choosing and sequencing the compositions, making a balanced time allocation and setting the ‘kaala pramaanam’ etc. in such a way that there would be a number of popularly known compositions in different tempos, ‘madhyama kaalam’ being given predominance. There should be some portion set apart to cater to the tastes and expectations of scholars and intricate aspects should definitely find a place so that the depth of knowledge of the artiste and skills in presentation are understood and appreciated. These will provide guidance to the younger aspirants in the field. He also used to emphasise the need for proper understanding and co-ordination among the performers to avoid ‘virasam’.(discord). After all, as far as the listeners are concerned, while they would expect each individual artiste to give his best, their main desire would be to get a full, satisfying and memorable kutchery, as a co-operative effort of the entire team.. Master did really take pains to achieve this objective. Generally, his own ‘Thani’ used to be brief, weaving colourful rhythmic patterns with adjustments of pleasing variations of sound and resonance. Complex technical aspects were also masterfully ingrained to make the performance delectable, dignified and weighty without being ponderous or procrastinating.
Reflecting on my association with him, a flood of episodes comes to my mind. It is difficult to record them in detail, but I would like to narrate a few more.
Once, after a performance I was taking him back to the hotel. He asked me whether I was finding enough opportunities to perform in kutcheries. I told him that I was new to the place and therefore, apart from the A.I.R programmes, there were not many opportunities. I added that there was some resistance to new entrants, especially to those from a different State. He patted my back and said “music field has never been free from politics. God has given you a good job and position and therefore you can afford to treat mridangam purely as a hobby. Do not compete with professionals who have to contend with several problems. For them, Ethics and fair-play may not be compatible with survival and success. Times and values have changed. Spontaneous respect, which the old-time vidwan received from disciples and patrons may no longer be available to the professional of the future, as a matter of course. Everything will be governed by contractual relationship rather than sentiments. Continue to practice with devotion and be of assistance when a request is made to you for a performance, keeping in view the dignity of the art. Then no one will feel that you are usurping his chance”. What a rational way of looking at the somewhat unhealthy competition and the preference-prejudice feelings which do rear their heads quite often in this field!! Incidentally, when I prostrated before him, when I met him first, he blessed me “to rise to a high position in my office” and advised me to give priority to studies related to my career and also be a good mridangist, without affecting the career prospects. .
Master’s outlook to even commonplace things too was very logical. Once, at the railway station, I stooped to pick up the mridangam and his luggage from the car boot. He stopped me and said “look, there are enough number of porters who eke out their living by doing this job. If we do not employ them, they will have to get their livelihood by other methods, which may not be strictly healthy. Once they are successful in those methods, they will be harmful to the society. Why not employ them and pay them their just wages?” He was liberal but not lavish in remunerating persons who worked for him and they were fully satisfied and grateful. He would not, however, hesitate to pull up anyone if the work was slipshod or half-hearted. I had occasion to study ‘Maxims of Chanakya’, a compilation of Chanakya’s principles by Sri V.K.Subramaniam. In the chapter on ‘Causes of discontent’, denial of payment of one’s legitimate dues is mentioned as the first cause of discontent. Great minds think alike! I do not think Master would have been less of an administrator, had he chosen to enter that field.
A trivial but significant aspect also comes to my mind. He used to love to give tips to the hotel staff and menials in crisp notes. He used to ask me to get fresh notes of Rupee One denomination for this purpose. Before I could hand over the bundles to him, he would insist on his paying me the value in denomination of hundred rupee notes. There was no question of his taking obligation.
Master knew the art of managing finance well. He was one of the few old-time professional artistes, who earned well by hard and intelligent effort, spent judiciously blending considerations of utility, dignity, simplicity and consistency and invested wisely. Long before the average public knew it, he had understood the implications of tax-saving incentives and he had availed of the schemes for tax planning. He had a quick and clear grasp of any subject of general interest. He would never skip his reading of a standard newspaper. I remember an occasion when he had to take the commuted value of some annuity certificates in which he had invested. I was present when he discussed the implications and procedural aspects with the officials concerned. After about five minutes with them, he had mastered all the aspects.
He was fully aware of the ways of the world and he was pragmatic to the core. Once a dynamic office-bearer of an organization, who was very well known in the music circles, lost his position due to the efforts of an opposition group. He asked me whether I was aware of it and how it happened and I explained it to the best of my knowledge. However, within a matter of months, the organization started languishing and the general body voted him back to position. At the next opportunity, I passed on the information .to Master. He had a hearty laugh. Then he said that he had expected it.. He said “ you know, the really aggressive go-getter, will have to bull-doze obstacles sometimes. He may not break the law, but will not have much of regard for procedures, which can often cause serious delays and frustration and he is also not likely to follow the democratic principles always. But the organization will flourish. The same thing is true of those whom we employ for our personal work. The easiest way is to wink at the faults of such persons, unless they are likely to be serious or done with bad intention, causing loss or hurt to others.”
Master had his own unique and fascinating way of putting across his ideas. One evening I had gone to him at the common room of Woodlands Hotel at Madras. His second son was also there. A very interesting piece of conversation took place regarding the son’s job at Karaikudi (if my memory is correct). Master asked his son about the job, the date of joining, etc. and then he enquired “ so, how much will you be getting as salary?”
Son: “about Rs.250/-“
Master: “ so you keep Rs.100/- and send me Rs.150/-. Is it not so?”
Son : “How can it be? I will not be able to live there with just
Rs.100/-“
Master: “Alright. Then you keep Rs.150/- and send me Rs.100/- What do
you say?”
For Master, these were very insignificant figures, considering his affluence and the remuneration that he was receiving for his performances. It was not that Master wanted his son’s monthly remittance; that was part of his strategy of teaching his son to inculcate the habit of thrift.
There was nothing slipshod, nothing which would not reflect his characteristic care for details and dignity, about him. Even a simple and small action of ;his would be indicative of his planning and perfection. For some time, he had to take a number of tablets in different combinations at different times of the day. He had organized it wonderfully well. He had a plastic container with a number of compartments for the tablets. He had very clearly marked the time at which each had to taken and he also; had a beautiful pair of small scissors to remove tablets from the aluminium foils.
He had a keen time sense and he would never linger in the concert hall or place of work after his job was over. In fact, even before the conclusion of the concerts, often, he would have dispatched one of his disciples sitting behind him on the dais, to fetch a taxi for his going from the concert hall. Some of his fans used to notice this and they used to say “Mani Iyer has sent his disciple to get a taxi. The concert is about to end.”
There was a unique greatness in everything about him and one great musician had, while speaking about him, punned using his name ‘Mani’, meaning “jewel’, ‘time, ‘money’ ‘beauty’(as in ‘mani-maniyaana ezhutthu’), ‘best’, or ‘adept’ (as in Gaayakamani’ or ‘Thiruppukazhmani’)
His circle of friends was not unduly wide. He would scrupulously avoid taking favours from others. As a professional, he had to move with thousands of persons and yet, he knew exactly who should be close to him; and who should be kept at a distance. There were few errors in his judgment of persons. He believed in trusting and delegating work to his chosen disciples and servants or friends and would generally leave them to do their job unless they sought his instructions. In the unfortunate event of
of anyone proving untrustworthy, he would not get unduly perturbed, but quietly keep him away. For him, the world was large enough for people who could not see ‘eye-to –eye with each other’, to remain apart. Not that he would be unreasonable or refuse to patch up where an earlier misunderstanding could be resolved. The manner in which he accepted and appreciated the efforts of some mutual friends who brought about a rapprochement between the late Chembai Sri Vaidyanatha Bhaagavathar and himself after a few years of drifting apart, would abundantly illustrate that he had no grudge or sustained ill-will towards anyone.
His appreciation of the greatness in other artistes was unreserved and healthy, though he never believed in outward show or exhibitionism. His brief, but splendid write-up on Ariyakudi Sri Ramanuja Iyengar amply brought out his admiration for that vidwaan. Likewise, he felt genuinely sad when several doyens like Alathur Sri Subbaier passed away. I distinctly remember the way he spoke about Kumbakonam Sri Rajamanickam Pillai , in the condolence session, broadcast by the All India Radio.
He said in a grief-stricken voice “Pillaiwal and myself had participated in innumerable performances over more than thirty years and, seated face to face with each other on the dais, we had such excellent rapport that I shall miss him very much. Many of the old veterans have disappeared from the field and, with them, the traditional pattern of rendering is also slowly disappearing; I am left standing as a mendicant yearning for good, old-time music (“Sangeetha Bhikshukanaaka Nirkiren). I recall a concert of Thitte Krishna Iyengar, a very senior vidwaan hailing from Karnataka State, at Bangalore, at which Master provided mridangam accompaniment. Krishna Iyengar sang a pallavi and it was evident from the beginning that Master enjoyed it thoroughly. At the end, Master announced “Pazhaiya kaalatthu pallavi” ( a very old pallavi).
Even Master’s reprimands used to be subtle, but they were very effective. He would not waste words and not a single word would be inappropriate. One there was a mild communication gap between us. This was sometime in 1978 or 79. He was to take part in a kutcheri. I had received him at the station and put him in his hotel. There were some other artistes, and one of them, my namesake, was very keen that Master should visit his residence. When finally the programme was settled, Master said “Krishnamoorthy Iyer will take me there by about a 4.15 p.m.” I was not used to the suffix ‘Iyer’ to my name and therefore, it never occurred to me that Master had meant that I should take him in my car. I had presumed that he had referred to the other gentleman. However, around 4 p.m, I had a feeling that probably I would also be required and I immediately rushed to the hotel. It appears that Master had been waiting for me and had just left. So later I told him that I missed him by a couple of minutes. He asked “you usually keep your watch advanced by a few minutes, is it not so? Hereafter you keep it slow by a few minutes so that you may involuntarily start in advance especially when you are pre-occupied with many things as you will sub-consciously be worried about your watch being slow.”
Masster scrupulously observed etiquettes. He provided mridangam accompaniment to Smt. D.K.pattammal at a concert at Nijaguna kalyana Matapam at Bangalore. They were teamed together, after a long time, at this performance.. She had asked her daughter-in-law (Master’s daughter) to sing along with her. Smt Pattammal mentioned this to Master just before the commencement of the programme. Master said “oh yes, once I have entrusted her to your care, I know that you will mould her wonderfully well”. The performance was excellent. Some of the pieces, notably “ eego nammaswami” in Manirangu, “Seetha vara sangeetha gnaanamu” in Devagaandhaari and a pallavi in khanda nadai, were outstanding. Smt. Sivakumar gave very good support to her mother-in-law. After the performance, Master complimented Pattammal on the excellent performance. He never said anything to his daughter about her part in the programme, nor did he mention it to Smt.Pattammal. An ordinary person would have praised his daughter. Later, when I was driving him back to the hotel, I mentioned to him that Smt.Sivakumar had risen up to the occasion and sung well. His comment was “Yes, it was a pleasant surprise, especially because of the difference in the basic “Sruti” and the very chaste style of rendering which Smt.Pattammal follows. She has taken great pains to teach Lalitha.””
There are many, many such examples of his noble qualities.
My last association with him was in 1979. I was under orders of transfer to a place where chances of his visits were remote. Therefore, when an occasion arose for me to be with him before my departure to the new place, I spent as much time as possible in his company. After his kutcheri, I had accompanied him to the station. Unfortunately, that day, at Bangalore city station, the departure platform for his train had been changed from No.1 to No. 4. We had to walk through the sub-way. At the head of the steps for climbing down, he paused and said “ I can walk some distance on level ground, but climbing steps is a problem.” Then he added” the body has become quite weak. Only the fingers have retained their strength. If somebody puts me on the stage, I can go on playing”. It was a statement which I could never have expected from him. Tears welled up in my eyes. He had an iron will and an indomitable spirit. It was not in his nature to admit of physical fatigue or weakness. His was a life full of tough challenges boldly and successfully met. (As a matter of fact, he was reported to have kept several mridangams in trim condition ready for concerts, even at the time of his demise). Instinctively, I knew that I was seeing him for the last time. The ironical part of it was that, for a couple of days, I was at Ernakulam, where he was hospitalized and finally passed away. Had I known about it, I could have visited him. I knew of his demise only when I saw the newspapers later.
I have no claim or competence to be Master’s Boswell. He started hils career before I was born. My knowledge of music is too shallow and there were too many fine aspects in his performance which baffled me. As Sri S.Y.Krishnaswami had stated in his memoirs after Master’s demise, Master started at the top and stayed there for over five decades. There are many who know him much better than me and were closer to him. All that I had in mind, when I started recording my reminiscences, was the desire that glimpses of the multifaceted personality of this truly great Master, should be available to my children and their contemporaries, who did not have any occasion to see him as a man and a maestro, although they can view and listen to his recorded performances. For myself, this serves as a faithful remembrancer of a Divinely gifted person at whose feet I shall ever remain a devotee.
Sri P.K.Ramakrishnan, who was always with Master for over two decades as a disciple in the Gurukula parampara, used to pray that if ever he was reborn on this earth, he should have opportunity to serve this Master, birth after birth. I remember him also at this juncture as it was he who took me to Master.
Note: A few of the episodes narrated here were translated and published in the Tamil weekly ‘’SAVI’’ in their issue dated 28.6.1989. The caption of the write- up was “Sila Apoorva Sangathigal””and Master’s photograph was also published.
P.G.Krishnamoorthy
My object in this write-up is only to put down some of the occurrences, anecdotes and observations during my association with this great man, which would afford some glimpses of his personality, his keen intellect, his large-heartedness, his ideals, his vision and perception that impressed me and which have been guiding me as a beacon light in my own life, both official and personal.
One thing which comes uppermost in the reminiscences, is his forthrightness and courage of conviction. I am reminded of two incidents which I had personally witnessed and one or two which had been narrated to me by the Master. It was at the Experts Committee demonstrations during the annual music festivals of the Music Academy at Madras on a Sunday morning in the Sixties. The pandal in the courtyard of the auditorium was packed to capacity and many were standing outside. The session included a demonstration of ‘Jadis’ set to different thaalams by a guest artiste from Andhra Pradesh. The special feature was that he would be indicating the Angams of different Thaalams simultaneously using both the hands, both the feet, the shoulders and the head, while uttering the Jadis. The Thaalams having different maathras, would synchronise after several rounds, at which point, the Jadis would also end. Starting with two different Thaalams counted on two hands, the artiste, demonstrated the feat of oral presentation of Jadis, keeping seven different Thaalams simultaneously. The applause from the audience was spontaneous and many admired the performance. Master, however, stood up and asked the artiste a few pertinent questions. He asked the artiste whether he could indicate the calculations or at least generally state the principles underlying the demonstration. The reply was in the negative. Then he asked the artiste whether he could state any part of the jadis in the three speeds (Thrikaalam). The reply was again in the negative. The next question was whether the artiste could put any portion of the Jadis into a different ‘gathi (nadai)’ like ‘Thisram’ and again this drew blank. Finally, he asked the artiste whether in simple Aadi Thaalam, he could say “Thakadhimi” seven times, followed by a “Thadhikinathom, thus coming to ‘level’ in the fifth round”” Still there was no positive response. Meanwhile, the audience was hurling all sorts of insults against Master. They said that he had no business to question an honoured guest artiste; that it was his uncurbed arrogance which made him do this; that he was unnecessarily teasing and exposing the artiste’s weakness and they even shouted “can you do such a feat?”. We were really worried as to what would happen. Master, however, stood up calmly, raised his voice and said “ I am one with you in appreciating the difficult feat performed by the artiste, but pleases remember that this is a session of the Experts Committee in the music field. Any discussion or demonstration will have to be related to the theory and practice of music. If a performance cannot be explained in terms of these, it may partake of the nature of acrobatics only and, however difficult and novel it may be, this is not the forum to exhibit it. We are entitled to know how far the performer can relate it to the general principles”. I could see the persons who had shouted against Master, acknowledging the correctness of his argument - “ of course, that is true” was all that they said. His perception was different and lofty.
A second occasion was in late 70’s, when I saw his firrnness in sticking to principles. A function had been arranged in memory of Master’s coeval and fellow student under the late Sri Chaatthappuram Subbaier. In the evening, there was a music programme at which percussion support was provided by Master. As usual, it had been announced that there would be no loudspeaker arrangement. The organizers had allowed unrestricted entry of listeners, little realising the consequences. After a very good start, the artiste had got into saint Thyagaraja’s ‘Dinamani vamsa’ in Harikaambhoji The audience had increased in number and as the hall was in a temple complex, there were external disturbances. Audibility of the music was therefore low. There were requests from the audience for provision of a loudspeaker. Master told the organisers to explain to the audience that the kutcheri was announced as a mikeless concert and that if they had patience, in a matter of minutes, their ears would get adjusted to the sound. Still, there were persistent calls for a loudspeaker and it was likely that there would be trouble. Any other person would have yielded and agreed to the provision of loudspeaker which could have been arranged soon. But Master simply asked the veena vidwan to play ‘Mangalam” and concluded the concert, notwithstanding the threats of injury to his person unless the concert was continued with loudspeaker. Of course, nothing untoward happened; usually, nothing untoward happens to one who takes a bold stand on the basis of declared principles.
A lot has been said about his aversion to loudspeakers for the performances in which he took part. A few years before he declared it as his policy to avoid the microphone in his performances, I was with him at one of the concerts in the Egmore Museum Theatre, Madras. That was the time when at Madras, Bharathanatyam and Dramas were holding sway among the music and fine arts sabhas. Light music was also gaining prominence and carnatic music programmes, even by celebrated artistes, did not have as much of an appeal for the audiences as before. To tell the truth, including the artistes on the stage, we were only about 75 persons in the hall for the programme. After the programme, Master told the organizers “ Look, this is going to be the pattern for quite some time. Carnatic music is not going to draw large audience. Why pollute the music with microphone, which will distort the sound and sometimes make it very unpleasant? I am prepared to reduce my rates substantially, if you avoid it during my programmes”.
In later years, he imposed a total ban on mike for his programmes. He had several reasons for this. When I had become sufficiently close to him to discuss these matters, without much of inhibitions, I asked him, whether, in his opinion, mike was responsible for our losing the voice culture technique. The response was quick and emphatic. He said “where is the doubt? It is only that kutthuvelakku – he compared the mike to the traditional oil lamp lit at our worship – which spoils the voice. (Samsayam enna, andha kutthu velakku thaan kedukkarathu). If one wants to strengthen and refine his voice, he should sing at ‘ 2 ½ kattai’ and it should be full-throat, full-volume effort, if possible, in the open, preferably sitting on the terrace of the building”. He had, of course, male singers in his mind while saying this. He also believed that, with fairly good acoustics in the concert hall, the listening power of the audience would substantially improve within minutes and get adjusted to the absence of the mike. After his decision to do away with the mike, he gave scores of performances, accompanying vocal and instrumental music, including mellow ones like veena. .Many of these were in quite large auditoriums and to fully packed audiences. Music lovers did enjoy the performances. He had the knack of ensuring that his handling of the mridangam, never affected the audibility of the rendering by the other artistes and all the time, it embellished these and brought the performances to full-blossomed beauty. I am reminded of a remark by Trichur Sri Sankara Menon, one of the old veteran mridangists of the times of doyens like Kallidaikurichi Sri Vedantha Bhaagavathar. He used to say that a mridangist would pass through four stages before becoming a competent accompanist. According to him, these were “Adi (uncontrolled sound), Idi (muffled, but identifiable pattern of sound) kottu (a fair degree of clarity in sollukkattu, but loud in volume) and Vaayana (clear and appropriate sollukkattu rendered with pleasing and sweet naadam). Practice and nothing but practice would elevate one from stage to stage. Master had practiced endlessly, researched every facet of construction and potential of the instrument, its preparation for use at different types of concerts and handling under all circumstances. He had amply substantiated his views on the supremacy of mikeless concerts and his ability to handle the mridangam in an exceedingly effective manner to support the main artiste, whoever it was. In his hands it was truly a ‘mridu angam’ (soft and sweet instrument), an aspect of this percussion instrument, which, long back, Sri Kunisseri Mani Iyer, who taught me for some time, used to stress. Of course, Master used to bring the effect of a super-fast jet speed or a tempestuous thunderclap to enliven or prop up a slackening tempo or sagging performance of the main artiste. Why should he not have his way?
His respect for traditional values and maintenance of standards was phenomenal. In the article on Sri Ramanuja iyengar, referred to at the beginning, Master wrote “ Melum naadavidyayyil puthithu puthithaaka cheivatharku viseshamaaka onrumillai; Cheithathaye thirumba thirumba thapas pannuvathupola cheithu arul peruvathuthaan mukkiyam enpathu en abhipraayam (further, there is nothing particularly novel to be done (invented) in naada vidya (music). In my opinion, doing the same thing over and over again like doing penance and be blessed, is the important thing).”” That is essence of any branch of fine art. Refinement and adding aesthetic appeal by constant practice should be the aim of any artiste. Fertile imagination and assiduous practice are absolutely necessary.
He knew that perfection was impossible; he was fully aware that one should make allowance for many imponderables and external forces, but he never slackened his efforts towards achievement of perfection. He would never compromise on quality, be it his personal attire, the maintenance and even the general appearance of his instruments or the planning and performance of a kutcheri. He had expressed his immense happiness at the increasing spread of classical South Indian music in recent times. But he lamented the deteriorating standards of practice. It was not as though he was unaware of the problems of the present day students of the art, such as, lack of time, diversions and the need to be well up in general knowledge and awareness of the happenings so as to be able to converse and compete where necessary, with others in the society. More than anything else, he accepted the practical impossibility of taking to music as the sole occupation or profession at least in the initial stages, due to the change in the economic and social scenario. He shared the feeling of some of the old-timers that the role of amateurs in fostering traditional arts would become increasingly prominent in times to come. (I recall a conversation which I had with late Sri Rajamanickam Pillai in 1966, if I remember right, when he was bed-ridden. I had expressed the constraints in practising mridangam due to my touring job and said that all the same, if someone could measure the sincerity and devotion to music, it would probably be found that it existed as much in the amateurs as in the professionals. He said “lakshatthil oru vaartthai” and added that spread of music and its development in times to come will depend solely on the interest and the efforts of general public and notably amateur artistes, as old time samasthanams and princely houses were disintegrating). And yet, Master did feel that practice of Carnatic music - be it vocal or instrumental – had to be more strenuous and well-structured. Complacency and compromises had no place in the development of art, nor did he accept the craze for quick results, abandoning quality. He had once referred to the lack of care in learning or teaching the fingering and formation of sollu in the initial stages. A student must develop awareness of the potentialities of the instrument which he handles and also what type of fingering would bring out the best notes from it. Dedication and concentration were basic necessities. He would say “ take the example of an American learning mridangam. Once he is instructed to keep his thumb hooked to support the forefinger and to keep his middle finger raised to produce a particular sound, he will never forget it. (Master admired their attention to details and emphasis on maintaining quality). But our boys will have to be reminded often; if not, they will allow their fingers to spread out like the legs of a spider”. He would say that if a student approached as a ‘fresher’ or in the early stages, it would be possible to re-set the fingering. But if he had reached the advanced stages, the fingering would have already set and few would have the inclination or patience to practice the ‘paatakkai’ to correct the fingering. The advantages of a little longer practice and attention to the first lessons could not be ignored.
Likewise, he had his own views about music competitions and schemes for selection of candidates for award of scholarships, etc. It was his firm conviction that there should be a minimum standard of performance to be expected from the competitors and awarding of prizes or selection for scholarships should not be on the basis of ‘the best among those who participated.’ He narrated an incident when, as judges on the panel for selecting eligible candidates for scholarship in a very advanced stage of learning of music, himself and the late Sri Alathur Srinivasa Iyer, had boldly expressed their view that none of the participants had the minimum standard required for the award.
His criticism was never destructive. He had a genuine concern for improvement. He had done everything possible to encourage younger artistes by tendering advice, by accompanying them at concerts and guiding them and unreservedly complimenting them when they did well. In this respect, he had no complexes, no airs and never was he casual or half-hearted. In fact, he had looked into all aspects right from the seating arrangements, selection and sequencing of krithis and building their morale and mutual understanding before the performances. I distinctly remember a rather difficult situation which master diffused very beautifully and ensured the conduct of an excellent concert. I had moved over to Bangalore in the last week of August 1976.. Master was to give a performance at a sabha .in October 1976. I met him at his lodgings at 11 a.m. The first thing he mentioned to me on seeing me was that there was a problem and it was even likely that the concert might be cancelled. The sabha had, after some unsavoury experiences, decided that artistes engaged for programmes would be offered a remuneration, which would include the cost of travel, board, lodging and incidental expenses. The sabha would help in booking accommodation, travel tickets, etc. but on no account would they pay the bills for these. It was up to the artistes to pay them. In this particular case, the main artiste had not accepted these terms and had insisted that their remuneration was exclusive of the expenses of travel, stay and incidentals, which the sabha had to meet. There was a stalemate and finally, the sabha had sent a telegram asking the artistes to come, but it had not mentioned anything about the main issue. The artistes had come and they had taken up lodging in the hotel. No representative of the sabha met them at the railway station or at the hotel, though the performance was to commence at 4.15 p.m. The artistes were firm that unless the representatives of the sabha undertook to meet the bills for accommodation and other expenses, they would not perform and they would return to Madras. It had now turned out to be a matter of prestige also.
Master asked me to immediately rush to the sabha office and convince the office-bearers to send a representative to meet the artistes at the hotel and reconcile the differences. It was a question of the prestige and good name of the artistes and the sabha and more than anything else, avoiding disappointment to music lovers from all parts of the city, who would be thronging the auditorium in a few hours. He was a good conciliator. In a matter of minutes, he was able to counsel the parties to settle the differences. The concert got off to a good start as scheduled and drew rounds of applause after applause.
One curious thing I found, when I joined Master at the hall, was that the artistes were seated on a carpet on the floor, abandoning the stage. Master explained that he had suggested this arrangement as he found the platform too high and far away from the audience. His ideas of audience rapport and involvement were excellent.
I was with him when he accompanied Sri Chittibabu at one of the Chamber music sabhas at Madras. The code of conduct for the listeners was very stringent. They were to be in their seats well before the commencement of the concert; they should not clap their hands or make any sound during the performance and they should not also leave the auditorium before the conclusion of the programme. The concert was excellent and the Thani Aavartthanam was in Misra Chaapu.( if I remember right, after the krithi “neethu charanamule”). As usual, the Thani was crisp and colourful, but the audience had to keep silent. Chittibabu applauded loudly and asked “why are you bowing down to restrictions on your freedom to appreciate a masterly effort like this?” and there was a thunderous applause. Master said that in our system, the artiste expected open expression of encouragement and appreciation. In this he drew a comparison with western audience which is ‘ very polite, disciplined and respectful, but which reserves its applause till the completion of a piece or sometimes, the entire concert’. He narrated his own experience in England, where he was given due respect and standing ovation after his performance. He said it was all very good, but he really missed the visual and audible expression of appreciation during a raga exposition or a sangathi or good swaraprasthaaram or Thani, which he was used to, back home. It must be recalled that he accepted very few engagements abroad.
Master used to say that normally, a good part of our audience for a concert comprise those who ‘love’ music than those who know the intricacies. A good artiste should, therefore, take note of this important aspect while choosing and sequencing the compositions, making a balanced time allocation and setting the ‘kaala pramaanam’ etc. in such a way that there would be a number of popularly known compositions in different tempos, ‘madhyama kaalam’ being given predominance. There should be some portion set apart to cater to the tastes and expectations of scholars and intricate aspects should definitely find a place so that the depth of knowledge of the artiste and skills in presentation are understood and appreciated. These will provide guidance to the younger aspirants in the field. He also used to emphasise the need for proper understanding and co-ordination among the performers to avoid ‘virasam’.(discord). After all, as far as the listeners are concerned, while they would expect each individual artiste to give his best, their main desire would be to get a full, satisfying and memorable kutchery, as a co-operative effort of the entire team.. Master did really take pains to achieve this objective. Generally, his own ‘Thani’ used to be brief, weaving colourful rhythmic patterns with adjustments of pleasing variations of sound and resonance. Complex technical aspects were also masterfully ingrained to make the performance delectable, dignified and weighty without being ponderous or procrastinating.
Reflecting on my association with him, a flood of episodes comes to my mind. It is difficult to record them in detail, but I would like to narrate a few more.
Once, after a performance I was taking him back to the hotel. He asked me whether I was finding enough opportunities to perform in kutcheries. I told him that I was new to the place and therefore, apart from the A.I.R programmes, there were not many opportunities. I added that there was some resistance to new entrants, especially to those from a different State. He patted my back and said “music field has never been free from politics. God has given you a good job and position and therefore you can afford to treat mridangam purely as a hobby. Do not compete with professionals who have to contend with several problems. For them, Ethics and fair-play may not be compatible with survival and success. Times and values have changed. Spontaneous respect, which the old-time vidwan received from disciples and patrons may no longer be available to the professional of the future, as a matter of course. Everything will be governed by contractual relationship rather than sentiments. Continue to practice with devotion and be of assistance when a request is made to you for a performance, keeping in view the dignity of the art. Then no one will feel that you are usurping his chance”. What a rational way of looking at the somewhat unhealthy competition and the preference-prejudice feelings which do rear their heads quite often in this field!! Incidentally, when I prostrated before him, when I met him first, he blessed me “to rise to a high position in my office” and advised me to give priority to studies related to my career and also be a good mridangist, without affecting the career prospects. .
Master’s outlook to even commonplace things too was very logical. Once, at the railway station, I stooped to pick up the mridangam and his luggage from the car boot. He stopped me and said “look, there are enough number of porters who eke out their living by doing this job. If we do not employ them, they will have to get their livelihood by other methods, which may not be strictly healthy. Once they are successful in those methods, they will be harmful to the society. Why not employ them and pay them their just wages?” He was liberal but not lavish in remunerating persons who worked for him and they were fully satisfied and grateful. He would not, however, hesitate to pull up anyone if the work was slipshod or half-hearted. I had occasion to study ‘Maxims of Chanakya’, a compilation of Chanakya’s principles by Sri V.K.Subramaniam. In the chapter on ‘Causes of discontent’, denial of payment of one’s legitimate dues is mentioned as the first cause of discontent. Great minds think alike! I do not think Master would have been less of an administrator, had he chosen to enter that field.
A trivial but significant aspect also comes to my mind. He used to love to give tips to the hotel staff and menials in crisp notes. He used to ask me to get fresh notes of Rupee One denomination for this purpose. Before I could hand over the bundles to him, he would insist on his paying me the value in denomination of hundred rupee notes. There was no question of his taking obligation.
Master knew the art of managing finance well. He was one of the few old-time professional artistes, who earned well by hard and intelligent effort, spent judiciously blending considerations of utility, dignity, simplicity and consistency and invested wisely. Long before the average public knew it, he had understood the implications of tax-saving incentives and he had availed of the schemes for tax planning. He had a quick and clear grasp of any subject of general interest. He would never skip his reading of a standard newspaper. I remember an occasion when he had to take the commuted value of some annuity certificates in which he had invested. I was present when he discussed the implications and procedural aspects with the officials concerned. After about five minutes with them, he had mastered all the aspects.
He was fully aware of the ways of the world and he was pragmatic to the core. Once a dynamic office-bearer of an organization, who was very well known in the music circles, lost his position due to the efforts of an opposition group. He asked me whether I was aware of it and how it happened and I explained it to the best of my knowledge. However, within a matter of months, the organization started languishing and the general body voted him back to position. At the next opportunity, I passed on the information .to Master. He had a hearty laugh. Then he said that he had expected it.. He said “ you know, the really aggressive go-getter, will have to bull-doze obstacles sometimes. He may not break the law, but will not have much of regard for procedures, which can often cause serious delays and frustration and he is also not likely to follow the democratic principles always. But the organization will flourish. The same thing is true of those whom we employ for our personal work. The easiest way is to wink at the faults of such persons, unless they are likely to be serious or done with bad intention, causing loss or hurt to others.”
Master had his own unique and fascinating way of putting across his ideas. One evening I had gone to him at the common room of Woodlands Hotel at Madras. His second son was also there. A very interesting piece of conversation took place regarding the son’s job at Karaikudi (if my memory is correct). Master asked his son about the job, the date of joining, etc. and then he enquired “ so, how much will you be getting as salary?”
Son: “about Rs.250/-“
Master: “ so you keep Rs.100/- and send me Rs.150/-. Is it not so?”
Son : “How can it be? I will not be able to live there with just
Rs.100/-“
Master: “Alright. Then you keep Rs.150/- and send me Rs.100/- What do
you say?”
For Master, these were very insignificant figures, considering his affluence and the remuneration that he was receiving for his performances. It was not that Master wanted his son’s monthly remittance; that was part of his strategy of teaching his son to inculcate the habit of thrift.
There was nothing slipshod, nothing which would not reflect his characteristic care for details and dignity, about him. Even a simple and small action of ;his would be indicative of his planning and perfection. For some time, he had to take a number of tablets in different combinations at different times of the day. He had organized it wonderfully well. He had a plastic container with a number of compartments for the tablets. He had very clearly marked the time at which each had to taken and he also; had a beautiful pair of small scissors to remove tablets from the aluminium foils.
He had a keen time sense and he would never linger in the concert hall or place of work after his job was over. In fact, even before the conclusion of the concerts, often, he would have dispatched one of his disciples sitting behind him on the dais, to fetch a taxi for his going from the concert hall. Some of his fans used to notice this and they used to say “Mani Iyer has sent his disciple to get a taxi. The concert is about to end.”
There was a unique greatness in everything about him and one great musician had, while speaking about him, punned using his name ‘Mani’, meaning “jewel’, ‘time, ‘money’ ‘beauty’(as in ‘mani-maniyaana ezhutthu’), ‘best’, or ‘adept’ (as in Gaayakamani’ or ‘Thiruppukazhmani’)
His circle of friends was not unduly wide. He would scrupulously avoid taking favours from others. As a professional, he had to move with thousands of persons and yet, he knew exactly who should be close to him; and who should be kept at a distance. There were few errors in his judgment of persons. He believed in trusting and delegating work to his chosen disciples and servants or friends and would generally leave them to do their job unless they sought his instructions. In the unfortunate event of
of anyone proving untrustworthy, he would not get unduly perturbed, but quietly keep him away. For him, the world was large enough for people who could not see ‘eye-to –eye with each other’, to remain apart. Not that he would be unreasonable or refuse to patch up where an earlier misunderstanding could be resolved. The manner in which he accepted and appreciated the efforts of some mutual friends who brought about a rapprochement between the late Chembai Sri Vaidyanatha Bhaagavathar and himself after a few years of drifting apart, would abundantly illustrate that he had no grudge or sustained ill-will towards anyone.
His appreciation of the greatness in other artistes was unreserved and healthy, though he never believed in outward show or exhibitionism. His brief, but splendid write-up on Ariyakudi Sri Ramanuja Iyengar amply brought out his admiration for that vidwaan. Likewise, he felt genuinely sad when several doyens like Alathur Sri Subbaier passed away. I distinctly remember the way he spoke about Kumbakonam Sri Rajamanickam Pillai , in the condolence session, broadcast by the All India Radio.
He said in a grief-stricken voice “Pillaiwal and myself had participated in innumerable performances over more than thirty years and, seated face to face with each other on the dais, we had such excellent rapport that I shall miss him very much. Many of the old veterans have disappeared from the field and, with them, the traditional pattern of rendering is also slowly disappearing; I am left standing as a mendicant yearning for good, old-time music (“Sangeetha Bhikshukanaaka Nirkiren). I recall a concert of Thitte Krishna Iyengar, a very senior vidwaan hailing from Karnataka State, at Bangalore, at which Master provided mridangam accompaniment. Krishna Iyengar sang a pallavi and it was evident from the beginning that Master enjoyed it thoroughly. At the end, Master announced “Pazhaiya kaalatthu pallavi” ( a very old pallavi).
Even Master’s reprimands used to be subtle, but they were very effective. He would not waste words and not a single word would be inappropriate. One there was a mild communication gap between us. This was sometime in 1978 or 79. He was to take part in a kutcheri. I had received him at the station and put him in his hotel. There were some other artistes, and one of them, my namesake, was very keen that Master should visit his residence. When finally the programme was settled, Master said “Krishnamoorthy Iyer will take me there by about a 4.15 p.m.” I was not used to the suffix ‘Iyer’ to my name and therefore, it never occurred to me that Master had meant that I should take him in my car. I had presumed that he had referred to the other gentleman. However, around 4 p.m, I had a feeling that probably I would also be required and I immediately rushed to the hotel. It appears that Master had been waiting for me and had just left. So later I told him that I missed him by a couple of minutes. He asked “you usually keep your watch advanced by a few minutes, is it not so? Hereafter you keep it slow by a few minutes so that you may involuntarily start in advance especially when you are pre-occupied with many things as you will sub-consciously be worried about your watch being slow.”
Masster scrupulously observed etiquettes. He provided mridangam accompaniment to Smt. D.K.pattammal at a concert at Nijaguna kalyana Matapam at Bangalore. They were teamed together, after a long time, at this performance.. She had asked her daughter-in-law (Master’s daughter) to sing along with her. Smt Pattammal mentioned this to Master just before the commencement of the programme. Master said “oh yes, once I have entrusted her to your care, I know that you will mould her wonderfully well”. The performance was excellent. Some of the pieces, notably “ eego nammaswami” in Manirangu, “Seetha vara sangeetha gnaanamu” in Devagaandhaari and a pallavi in khanda nadai, were outstanding. Smt. Sivakumar gave very good support to her mother-in-law. After the performance, Master complimented Pattammal on the excellent performance. He never said anything to his daughter about her part in the programme, nor did he mention it to Smt.Pattammal. An ordinary person would have praised his daughter. Later, when I was driving him back to the hotel, I mentioned to him that Smt.Sivakumar had risen up to the occasion and sung well. His comment was “Yes, it was a pleasant surprise, especially because of the difference in the basic “Sruti” and the very chaste style of rendering which Smt.Pattammal follows. She has taken great pains to teach Lalitha.””
There are many, many such examples of his noble qualities.
My last association with him was in 1979. I was under orders of transfer to a place where chances of his visits were remote. Therefore, when an occasion arose for me to be with him before my departure to the new place, I spent as much time as possible in his company. After his kutcheri, I had accompanied him to the station. Unfortunately, that day, at Bangalore city station, the departure platform for his train had been changed from No.1 to No. 4. We had to walk through the sub-way. At the head of the steps for climbing down, he paused and said “ I can walk some distance on level ground, but climbing steps is a problem.” Then he added” the body has become quite weak. Only the fingers have retained their strength. If somebody puts me on the stage, I can go on playing”. It was a statement which I could never have expected from him. Tears welled up in my eyes. He had an iron will and an indomitable spirit. It was not in his nature to admit of physical fatigue or weakness. His was a life full of tough challenges boldly and successfully met. (As a matter of fact, he was reported to have kept several mridangams in trim condition ready for concerts, even at the time of his demise). Instinctively, I knew that I was seeing him for the last time. The ironical part of it was that, for a couple of days, I was at Ernakulam, where he was hospitalized and finally passed away. Had I known about it, I could have visited him. I knew of his demise only when I saw the newspapers later.
I have no claim or competence to be Master’s Boswell. He started hils career before I was born. My knowledge of music is too shallow and there were too many fine aspects in his performance which baffled me. As Sri S.Y.Krishnaswami had stated in his memoirs after Master’s demise, Master started at the top and stayed there for over five decades. There are many who know him much better than me and were closer to him. All that I had in mind, when I started recording my reminiscences, was the desire that glimpses of the multifaceted personality of this truly great Master, should be available to my children and their contemporaries, who did not have any occasion to see him as a man and a maestro, although they can view and listen to his recorded performances. For myself, this serves as a faithful remembrancer of a Divinely gifted person at whose feet I shall ever remain a devotee.
Sri P.K.Ramakrishnan, who was always with Master for over two decades as a disciple in the Gurukula parampara, used to pray that if ever he was reborn on this earth, he should have opportunity to serve this Master, birth after birth. I remember him also at this juncture as it was he who took me to Master.
Note: A few of the episodes narrated here were translated and published in the Tamil weekly ‘’SAVI’’ in their issue dated 28.6.1989. The caption of the write- up was “Sila Apoorva Sangathigal””and Master’s photograph was also published.
P.G.Krishnamoorthy
Monday, August 16, 2010
Table,Temple, Temperament
Table, Temple, Temperament
Chapter eight of Varaahapuraanam (date approximately 10th Century A.D.) gives a very interesting story. A righteous and pious hunter lives in a forest. He kills just one animal a day for food for himself and his family. After cooking it, he makes offerings first to the Gods, then to the departed souls in the family, then to his guests and shares the rest with his family and servants. He has one son and one daughter. He brings up these two as ideal children, instilling in them the virtues of good and righteous conduct and religious beliefs. When his daughter grows up to be a fine maiden of upright character and conduct and well educated, he decides that she deserves a husband equal to her in learning and virtues. He seeks alliance for her with the great Rishi (Sage) Mathanga’s son Prasanna. The sage readily agrees because the hunter’s noble qualities are known far and wide. After the marriage, the hunter’s daughter goes to live with her husband at the sage’s residence. She endears herself to everyone by her intelligent and helpful conduct and everyone is happy.
After some time, the atmosphere is suddenly vitiated. For some trivial lapse, the sage’s wife teases the girl that, being the daughter of animal killer, she does not know how to practice penance or to attend on her husband. The girl returns to her parents in distress. The hunter, after getting an account of what transpired, goes to the sage, who is unaware of the background. The sage welcomes the hunter with all affection and respect and invites him for food. The hunter prefers to cook his own food and asks for some rice. When it is given to him, he looks at it and immediately says “ I refuse to have food with you. Do you know how many living beings are destroyed when you prepare your food? And you do not offer your food to the Gods and others as prescribed. After all, I kill just one animal a day and take my food prepared out of its meat only after I offer it to the Gods, departed souls, guests and family including servants”. Then he narrates to the sage the manner in which his daughter is abused. Finally, he throws a curse “there shall be no mutual trust and amity between mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law”. Curious isn’t it that this has been by and large true over the ages!!
Well, this left me wondering because, our elders never told a story, especially in the form a Puraanam or Ithihaasam without a message, often discernible only to the inquiring mind. Probably, the stress was on incompatibility of food habits, sense of values or lack of tolerance as some of the major causes of domestic discontent. In the current scenario, we may add a few more factors to this list i.e., the problems created by generation gap, excessively possessive attitude and fast changing social set up.
I remembered an incident, which occurred in my life almost two decades ago.
I had a very good friend (a South Indian Brahmin), much older than me, who would come to my assistance at any time most willingly. A confirmed optimist and always radiating goodwill and jubilant mood as he was, I was surprised to find him totally confused and downcast when I visited him one day. The atmosphere in his house, which was otherwise very lively, often punctuated with peals of laughter at the jokes, which he used to crack, was gloomy. The problem was that his daughter was insisting on marrying a boy from a different State and caste and linguistic group. They had developed attachment when they were working at a place. They had moved away to different towns about five years previously and did not have any chance to see each other, nor did they correspond with each other. In spite of this, their mutual affection had increased and both had decided to remain celibate if they could not be united in marriage. The factors against the alliance, according to my friend, were the caste difference, divergent practices and possible problems in social acceptance. I do not know what happened to me, but I just told him “ uncle, if they could nurture their mutual affection though they had not seen each other for over five years, do you think anyone has a right to obstruct the union? So long as their TABLE, TEMPLE AND TEMPERAMENT (food habits, religious faith and sense of values and likes and dislikes) are compatible, not necessarily congruent, they will be happy”. My friend jumped up and embraced me very emotionally. The marriage was performed and the couple is happy.
I got a copy of Varaaha Puraanam much later, for reference in connection with another work. I was surprised to find that Chapter Eight supported my statement by referring to the converse. I am not, even for a single moment, advocating that we throw our old customs and entire social structure overboard, lock, stock and barrel. After all,
there must have been some reason and justification for our traditions. While it is easy to distort and destroy these, such a step, without a viable, stable and enduring alternative, will lead to chaos. Even the most cosmopolitan parents become conservative when it comes to marriage of their sons and daughters. Pearl S. Buck has amply demonstrated this through her novel “Come, My Beloved”. Yet, let us also remember that times have changed; technological advancement has revolutionized not only the way of life, but also the outlook. Grown ups of both sexes are thrown together in academic pursuits, work situations and social and religious gatherings and nature plays cupid by instinct rather than choice. Of course, marriage as a bond, must be enduring and should be based on mutual understanding and support through thick and thin. What instinct promotes must be put to test through reasoning and assessment of compatibility. All over the globe, intellectuals struggled to raise human species far above the rest of the animal kingdom. Marriage as an institution has to survive trials and tribulations and the couple should remain in permanent bond which only death can separate. Society has to survive on the basis of permanent commitment in certain important spheres of human existence. Submission to fleeting infatuations will only destroy the social fabric. All over the world, even animals look after their progeny till they become self sufficient, capable of getting their food, etc. This period ranges from just a few minutes to a few months. In the human specie, it used to be about 12 to 15 years. With the advancement of education and technology, dependence of progeny on parents in our society (Indian background) extends to even 20 to 25 years. A few years back, a parent in his sixties, confided in me that he has to continue to work because he had to finance his son’s post-doctorate research. He lamented “ the poor boy is only 28 and he is ambitious”!!! This is probably an extreme case of possessiveness and misconceived sense of responsibility. Probably in such cases, acceptance of a daughter-in-law as part of one’s family will also be difficult as the parent is likely to mistake her as an intruder in the relationship between himself and his son.
Leaving this digression apart, in our set up, parents will be bound to counsel and guide their children in the selection of life partner. But to become over possessive and get excited if the choice is not theirs, destroying the peace of several and one’s own self, is, I am afraid, totally uncalled for. Graceful acceptance of what happens under the circumstances will probably be the best course. I hope the story in Varaahapuraanam will lend authenticity to this view.
In my personal experience, there are many families where children have married outside their groups and still the atmosphere is cordial and happy. There are also many cases where marriage within the same community or groups have failed. This proves that ultimately, it is the compatibility, the spirit of tolerance that makes a marriage successful.
Society should also have a broad outlook and should not look down upon a family merely because one of its members has married a person outside its religious, linguistic or geographic group.
I wrote the basic structure of this article for consoling a family who were distressed that their social group looked down upon them for their daughter marrying a person outside their linguistic group. I thought I should put it on my blog as I find that even now people are not ready to accept such marriages.
I am sure that at least some people will benefit by this.
P.G.Krishnamoorthy
Chapter eight of Varaahapuraanam (date approximately 10th Century A.D.) gives a very interesting story. A righteous and pious hunter lives in a forest. He kills just one animal a day for food for himself and his family. After cooking it, he makes offerings first to the Gods, then to the departed souls in the family, then to his guests and shares the rest with his family and servants. He has one son and one daughter. He brings up these two as ideal children, instilling in them the virtues of good and righteous conduct and religious beliefs. When his daughter grows up to be a fine maiden of upright character and conduct and well educated, he decides that she deserves a husband equal to her in learning and virtues. He seeks alliance for her with the great Rishi (Sage) Mathanga’s son Prasanna. The sage readily agrees because the hunter’s noble qualities are known far and wide. After the marriage, the hunter’s daughter goes to live with her husband at the sage’s residence. She endears herself to everyone by her intelligent and helpful conduct and everyone is happy.
After some time, the atmosphere is suddenly vitiated. For some trivial lapse, the sage’s wife teases the girl that, being the daughter of animal killer, she does not know how to practice penance or to attend on her husband. The girl returns to her parents in distress. The hunter, after getting an account of what transpired, goes to the sage, who is unaware of the background. The sage welcomes the hunter with all affection and respect and invites him for food. The hunter prefers to cook his own food and asks for some rice. When it is given to him, he looks at it and immediately says “ I refuse to have food with you. Do you know how many living beings are destroyed when you prepare your food? And you do not offer your food to the Gods and others as prescribed. After all, I kill just one animal a day and take my food prepared out of its meat only after I offer it to the Gods, departed souls, guests and family including servants”. Then he narrates to the sage the manner in which his daughter is abused. Finally, he throws a curse “there shall be no mutual trust and amity between mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law”. Curious isn’t it that this has been by and large true over the ages!!
Well, this left me wondering because, our elders never told a story, especially in the form a Puraanam or Ithihaasam without a message, often discernible only to the inquiring mind. Probably, the stress was on incompatibility of food habits, sense of values or lack of tolerance as some of the major causes of domestic discontent. In the current scenario, we may add a few more factors to this list i.e., the problems created by generation gap, excessively possessive attitude and fast changing social set up.
I remembered an incident, which occurred in my life almost two decades ago.
I had a very good friend (a South Indian Brahmin), much older than me, who would come to my assistance at any time most willingly. A confirmed optimist and always radiating goodwill and jubilant mood as he was, I was surprised to find him totally confused and downcast when I visited him one day. The atmosphere in his house, which was otherwise very lively, often punctuated with peals of laughter at the jokes, which he used to crack, was gloomy. The problem was that his daughter was insisting on marrying a boy from a different State and caste and linguistic group. They had developed attachment when they were working at a place. They had moved away to different towns about five years previously and did not have any chance to see each other, nor did they correspond with each other. In spite of this, their mutual affection had increased and both had decided to remain celibate if they could not be united in marriage. The factors against the alliance, according to my friend, were the caste difference, divergent practices and possible problems in social acceptance. I do not know what happened to me, but I just told him “ uncle, if they could nurture their mutual affection though they had not seen each other for over five years, do you think anyone has a right to obstruct the union? So long as their TABLE, TEMPLE AND TEMPERAMENT (food habits, religious faith and sense of values and likes and dislikes) are compatible, not necessarily congruent, they will be happy”. My friend jumped up and embraced me very emotionally. The marriage was performed and the couple is happy.
I got a copy of Varaaha Puraanam much later, for reference in connection with another work. I was surprised to find that Chapter Eight supported my statement by referring to the converse. I am not, even for a single moment, advocating that we throw our old customs and entire social structure overboard, lock, stock and barrel. After all,
there must have been some reason and justification for our traditions. While it is easy to distort and destroy these, such a step, without a viable, stable and enduring alternative, will lead to chaos. Even the most cosmopolitan parents become conservative when it comes to marriage of their sons and daughters. Pearl S. Buck has amply demonstrated this through her novel “Come, My Beloved”. Yet, let us also remember that times have changed; technological advancement has revolutionized not only the way of life, but also the outlook. Grown ups of both sexes are thrown together in academic pursuits, work situations and social and religious gatherings and nature plays cupid by instinct rather than choice. Of course, marriage as a bond, must be enduring and should be based on mutual understanding and support through thick and thin. What instinct promotes must be put to test through reasoning and assessment of compatibility. All over the globe, intellectuals struggled to raise human species far above the rest of the animal kingdom. Marriage as an institution has to survive trials and tribulations and the couple should remain in permanent bond which only death can separate. Society has to survive on the basis of permanent commitment in certain important spheres of human existence. Submission to fleeting infatuations will only destroy the social fabric. All over the world, even animals look after their progeny till they become self sufficient, capable of getting their food, etc. This period ranges from just a few minutes to a few months. In the human specie, it used to be about 12 to 15 years. With the advancement of education and technology, dependence of progeny on parents in our society (Indian background) extends to even 20 to 25 years. A few years back, a parent in his sixties, confided in me that he has to continue to work because he had to finance his son’s post-doctorate research. He lamented “ the poor boy is only 28 and he is ambitious”!!! This is probably an extreme case of possessiveness and misconceived sense of responsibility. Probably in such cases, acceptance of a daughter-in-law as part of one’s family will also be difficult as the parent is likely to mistake her as an intruder in the relationship between himself and his son.
Leaving this digression apart, in our set up, parents will be bound to counsel and guide their children in the selection of life partner. But to become over possessive and get excited if the choice is not theirs, destroying the peace of several and one’s own self, is, I am afraid, totally uncalled for. Graceful acceptance of what happens under the circumstances will probably be the best course. I hope the story in Varaahapuraanam will lend authenticity to this view.
In my personal experience, there are many families where children have married outside their groups and still the atmosphere is cordial and happy. There are also many cases where marriage within the same community or groups have failed. This proves that ultimately, it is the compatibility, the spirit of tolerance that makes a marriage successful.
Society should also have a broad outlook and should not look down upon a family merely because one of its members has married a person outside its religious, linguistic or geographic group.
I wrote the basic structure of this article for consoling a family who were distressed that their social group looked down upon them for their daughter marrying a person outside their linguistic group. I thought I should put it on my blog as I find that even now people are not ready to accept such marriages.
I am sure that at least some people will benefit by this.
P.G.Krishnamoorthy
Friday, July 16, 2010
A LESSON FROM THE DISTANT PAST
A lesson from the distant past
My grandmother, whose capacity as a story-teller was matchless, narrated to me this incident, which occurred in our village when she was very young. That would put it about 150 years ago. In those days, there were no proper roads and transport and communication were very deficient. Still people used to travel long distances for purposes such as pilgrimage, learning, and participation in debates conducted at courts of native kings and Lords. It took months and sometimes, years for such persons to return. Sometimes, they never did. Often, when they did return after long periods, their own relatives in the village would not be able to recognize them. There would be no proof of the relationship either. All the same, they would be accommodated as guests and treated well on the basis of their statements or dropping names of common relatives or friends, or mention of particular incidents which occurred in the village.
In those days, as a custom, there would be practically no long conversations between husband and wife in the presence of outsiders. None addressed his wife by name. It was only “adiyei” and a woman was not allowed to utter her husband’s name – not to speak of addressing him by name. Women in general had no say in the management of properties, finances or social contacts. Their role was confined to running of the household such as cooking, looking after children and upkeep of the house. This tradition was common to all Indian communities.
It was in this setting that one man descended on a fairly well-to-do family in our village. They were just husband and wife (let us call them Krishnan and Lakshmi), living in harmony and peace. The visitor (let us cal him Ramu) claimed that his father was Krishnan’s great uncle, who had gone to Kaasi (Varanasi) on pilgrimage, got married and settled there. Ramu said he had been told about his native village and many anecdotes involving people and incidents in the village and he developed an urge to see his ancestral place. He learnt that his cousin was living in the village and it was thus that he landed at Krishnan’s house. Ramu had gathered a lot of information about the village and his conversation left no room for doubts on the authenticity of his statements.
So Krishnan welcomed Ramu to stay with him. Special dishes were made for his lunch, evening repast and dinner. Ramu enjoyed the hospitality for a couple of months. He befriended the villagers and regaled them with tales of Varanasi and other place, which he claimed to have visited. He would often talk to Krishnan when they were sitting on the verandah of the house or visiting their farm. Likewise, he would talk to Lakshmi when Krishnan was away on some work. He had a mischievous mind and tendency to ask too many personal questions or veer the conversation to embarrassing topics.
Ramu’s hosts and the villagers had their own daily chores to do while Ramu had nothing. Over a period of time, their attention to Ramu became less and less and Ramu was getting bored. He decided that it was time to depart.
One day, during his chat with Krishnan, when they were alone, Ramu dropped a hint that probably Lakshmi belonged to the canine family in her previous birth as she had the habit of licking her hands too often during meals. One practice in south India was that no wife would eat with her husband or in his presence. For that matter, ladies in general would not sit with gents for any meal; men-folk would eat first and then ladies had a separate batch, even at functions. So what Ramu told was a revelation to Krishnan because he had never watched her during meals.
Closely following this, one day, Ramu found an opportunity to talk to Lakshmi when she was alone. He told her in whispers that Krishnan was probably a vendor of salt in his previous birth. He must have been carrying salt bags on his back as he had a tendency to sweat excessively. It was likely that his skin would taste salty even in the current birth. He casually repeated these a few times. Then he left with some gifts kindly offered by his hosts.
The drops of venom administered by Ramu started working and Krishnan and Lakshmi began watching each other for telltale signs of vestiges of their previous birth. The happy couple, devoted to each other and united in their life and activities, became morose and suspicious of each other. A stage was reached when they could not suffer it longer.
The lady was more affected. So one night, when she felt that Krishnan was in sound sleep, she licked his back. Krishnan was actually wide awake and he had been wondering how to verify Ramu’s observation. Lakshmi’s action confirmed to him that she belonged to the canine family in her previous birth and was habituated to licking. Lakshmi, on the other hand felt that Krishnan’s skin tasted salty and that he was a salt vendor in his previous birth. They started fighting and screaming at each other in the dead of night and came out on to the street. Neighbours gathered and somehow quietend the couple. It took a lot of effort to convince Lakshmi that sweat and blood are salty in taste and that there was no correlation between this and previous birth. Similarly, Krishnan had to be persuaded by elders to accept that the crook Ramu had deliberately destroyed their peaceful and happy life by playing upon their gullibility.
Grandma concluded saying “Beware of whom you admit into your household and take their statements with a pinch of salt. Beware of unsolicited and unwanted advice dished out by others. It is very difficult for us to know whether such persons are genuinely interested in our welfare or not. Even if such advices are well meant, it is quite likely that the person giving it does not know all the circumstances. It is always best to sort out differences with others by direct dialogue. Carrying our quarrels to outside world and seeking advice of others may be counterproductive.”
Then she told me of a very wise lady who had a simple method to deal with quarrel between her son and his wife. (In those days children were married off when they were in their teens and joint family culture prevailed) Her larder or pantry, (whatever we may call the place where eatables were stocked in the house), was well- stocked and there were plenty of tit-bits and cookies inside. Whenever the young couple quarreled and the fight seemed endless, she would lock up both inside this room. When left alone like this, they found that they had to sink their differences of views and pull on together. The old lady would open the door only when they promised not to quarrel again. Of course, her cookies would keep off the children from starving if the lock up was too long. P. G. Wodehouse has described Bertram Woosters’ boyhood nurse locking him up and another in a clothes cup-board when they quarreled. A few minutes inside the cupboard saw a change and each one started blaming own self for the misunderstanding and craved pardon from the other. I am not able to recollect which of his novels it was, but the fact remains that the wisdom of the old all over the world was great.
My grandmother’s story may sound gross and absurd. But very often truth is ugly and unbelievable.
That brings me to a related issue. While the story shows us how a mischievous mind can drive a wedge between the husband and wife or for that matter, two close relatives or friends, there are instances where, even well-intentioned, but misconceived or erroneous interference by outsiders (I call them interested third parties) like parents or in-laws or even loyal servants brought the same effect. Classic examples are the roles played by Manthara in Ramayana and Sakuni in Mahabharatha. They believed that they were actually protecting the interests of their loved ones namely, Bharatha in Ramayana and Kauravas in Mahabharatha. But the result was disastrous. A few minutes of counseling (in reality, brainwashing), changed Kaikeyi from her adoration of Rama, to treating him as her bitter enemy and usurper of Bharatha’s fortunes. She wanted him to go immediately. It was like someone flogging a top class horse, already galloping fast, to go faster. And Kaikeyi turned so ruthless that she wanted even Seetha to shed her ornaments and wear the bark of trees, which she herself brought and handed over to Rama. She did not heed the pleas of elders to spare Seetha. It took a volley of abuse from the usually soft-spoken Guru Vasishta to make Kaikeyi relent and allow Seetha to wear clothes befitting her status as a princess. Such is the power of mischievous counseling. The only justification for this, if at all one wishes to exonerate Manthara, is the strong attachment which Manthara had towards her mistress Kaikeyi and her son Bharatha. Her concern, viewed in the narrow perspective of a menial, was their welfare and not the larger interests of the nation.
Opposed to this is the mischievous mind like Ramu’s in our story, where one interferes just to satisfy one’s ego or purely for sadistic pleasure. Most of us would have read or heard the story of the washer-man, his son and their donkey. They listened to gratuitous advices given by every passer- by and came to grief.
Looked at from the other side, let us admit that the tendency to give advice is a general trait among our population. Some such “wise” people even go to the extent of warning us that we would repent if we do not act on their advice. One has to be very circumspect when listening to or acting on other peoples’ advice. I too have incurred losses and gone through unnecessary trouble, by accepting unsolicited advice, though on some occasions even unsolicited advice turned out to be for good. That is why I said one has to be circumspect in accepting it.
At the same time, let us not forget that our scriptures like Upanishads are full of words of wisdom. Thirukkural is another treasure. We have to differentiate between general words of wisdom for the well-being of humanity and those given by individuals to us whether solicited or unsolicited. The greatest and most precious piece of advice which our Ithihaasas and Puraanas contain is Bhagavathgeetha. Even here, Lord Krishna does not voluntarily pour out his advice, unsolicited. Arjuna is confused and refuses to do his duty because of a misconception and indulges in self-condemnation, at a juncture when his inaction would bring total disaster and miscarriage of justice. He seeks the Lord’s advice “Sishyastheham Saadhi maam thvaam prapannam”. It was equally incumbent upon Lord Krishna as the relative, friend and of course, the Lord of the Universe and protector of Dharma, to give Arjuna, a clear vision of his role and duty. A lengthy and meaningful dialogue follows and every point is cleared.
Even then, at the end the Lord says “Ithi the gjnaanamaakhyaatham Guhyaathguhyatharam mayaa/// Vimrisyaithadasheshena yatthhecchasi thatthha kuru” (thus knowledge has been imparted to you by me, knowledge that is most mysterious and secret which is not to be revealed to all and sundry. Please ponder over it critically and thoroughly and act as you please). The Lord does not ask Arjuna to follow the advice blindly. He desires Arjuna to exercise his discretion and decide. Arjuna’s reply is also noteworthy “Nashto mohah Smrithirlabhdha Thvathprasadath mayaachyutha / Stthhithosmi Gathasandehah Karishye vachanam thava” (I am disillusioned. My doubts have been cleared. I shall act according to your advice). Verses 63 and 73 Chapter 18 of Bhagavathgeetha.
We should know exactly when we really need advice, we should know whom to approach for advice, we should know what we should disclose and what not to disclose, for giving too much will only confuse the thinking and cloud the perception, and we should pin-point the aspects on which we need advice. In other words, it should be a language of specifics and haziness should be avoided. No aspect pertinent to the issue should be left in doubt.
I hope this piece will not be consigned to the trash can, but it will be accepted as a useful note, emanating from past experiences of an old man and lessons he learnt.
P.G.krishnamoorthy 8 A/12, Brindavan, Thane West – 400601, Maharashtara State, India.
My grandmother, whose capacity as a story-teller was matchless, narrated to me this incident, which occurred in our village when she was very young. That would put it about 150 years ago. In those days, there were no proper roads and transport and communication were very deficient. Still people used to travel long distances for purposes such as pilgrimage, learning, and participation in debates conducted at courts of native kings and Lords. It took months and sometimes, years for such persons to return. Sometimes, they never did. Often, when they did return after long periods, their own relatives in the village would not be able to recognize them. There would be no proof of the relationship either. All the same, they would be accommodated as guests and treated well on the basis of their statements or dropping names of common relatives or friends, or mention of particular incidents which occurred in the village.
In those days, as a custom, there would be practically no long conversations between husband and wife in the presence of outsiders. None addressed his wife by name. It was only “adiyei” and a woman was not allowed to utter her husband’s name – not to speak of addressing him by name. Women in general had no say in the management of properties, finances or social contacts. Their role was confined to running of the household such as cooking, looking after children and upkeep of the house. This tradition was common to all Indian communities.
It was in this setting that one man descended on a fairly well-to-do family in our village. They were just husband and wife (let us call them Krishnan and Lakshmi), living in harmony and peace. The visitor (let us cal him Ramu) claimed that his father was Krishnan’s great uncle, who had gone to Kaasi (Varanasi) on pilgrimage, got married and settled there. Ramu said he had been told about his native village and many anecdotes involving people and incidents in the village and he developed an urge to see his ancestral place. He learnt that his cousin was living in the village and it was thus that he landed at Krishnan’s house. Ramu had gathered a lot of information about the village and his conversation left no room for doubts on the authenticity of his statements.
So Krishnan welcomed Ramu to stay with him. Special dishes were made for his lunch, evening repast and dinner. Ramu enjoyed the hospitality for a couple of months. He befriended the villagers and regaled them with tales of Varanasi and other place, which he claimed to have visited. He would often talk to Krishnan when they were sitting on the verandah of the house or visiting their farm. Likewise, he would talk to Lakshmi when Krishnan was away on some work. He had a mischievous mind and tendency to ask too many personal questions or veer the conversation to embarrassing topics.
Ramu’s hosts and the villagers had their own daily chores to do while Ramu had nothing. Over a period of time, their attention to Ramu became less and less and Ramu was getting bored. He decided that it was time to depart.
One day, during his chat with Krishnan, when they were alone, Ramu dropped a hint that probably Lakshmi belonged to the canine family in her previous birth as she had the habit of licking her hands too often during meals. One practice in south India was that no wife would eat with her husband or in his presence. For that matter, ladies in general would not sit with gents for any meal; men-folk would eat first and then ladies had a separate batch, even at functions. So what Ramu told was a revelation to Krishnan because he had never watched her during meals.
Closely following this, one day, Ramu found an opportunity to talk to Lakshmi when she was alone. He told her in whispers that Krishnan was probably a vendor of salt in his previous birth. He must have been carrying salt bags on his back as he had a tendency to sweat excessively. It was likely that his skin would taste salty even in the current birth. He casually repeated these a few times. Then he left with some gifts kindly offered by his hosts.
The drops of venom administered by Ramu started working and Krishnan and Lakshmi began watching each other for telltale signs of vestiges of their previous birth. The happy couple, devoted to each other and united in their life and activities, became morose and suspicious of each other. A stage was reached when they could not suffer it longer.
The lady was more affected. So one night, when she felt that Krishnan was in sound sleep, she licked his back. Krishnan was actually wide awake and he had been wondering how to verify Ramu’s observation. Lakshmi’s action confirmed to him that she belonged to the canine family in her previous birth and was habituated to licking. Lakshmi, on the other hand felt that Krishnan’s skin tasted salty and that he was a salt vendor in his previous birth. They started fighting and screaming at each other in the dead of night and came out on to the street. Neighbours gathered and somehow quietend the couple. It took a lot of effort to convince Lakshmi that sweat and blood are salty in taste and that there was no correlation between this and previous birth. Similarly, Krishnan had to be persuaded by elders to accept that the crook Ramu had deliberately destroyed their peaceful and happy life by playing upon their gullibility.
Grandma concluded saying “Beware of whom you admit into your household and take their statements with a pinch of salt. Beware of unsolicited and unwanted advice dished out by others. It is very difficult for us to know whether such persons are genuinely interested in our welfare or not. Even if such advices are well meant, it is quite likely that the person giving it does not know all the circumstances. It is always best to sort out differences with others by direct dialogue. Carrying our quarrels to outside world and seeking advice of others may be counterproductive.”
Then she told me of a very wise lady who had a simple method to deal with quarrel between her son and his wife. (In those days children were married off when they were in their teens and joint family culture prevailed) Her larder or pantry, (whatever we may call the place where eatables were stocked in the house), was well- stocked and there were plenty of tit-bits and cookies inside. Whenever the young couple quarreled and the fight seemed endless, she would lock up both inside this room. When left alone like this, they found that they had to sink their differences of views and pull on together. The old lady would open the door only when they promised not to quarrel again. Of course, her cookies would keep off the children from starving if the lock up was too long. P. G. Wodehouse has described Bertram Woosters’ boyhood nurse locking him up and another in a clothes cup-board when they quarreled. A few minutes inside the cupboard saw a change and each one started blaming own self for the misunderstanding and craved pardon from the other. I am not able to recollect which of his novels it was, but the fact remains that the wisdom of the old all over the world was great.
My grandmother’s story may sound gross and absurd. But very often truth is ugly and unbelievable.
That brings me to a related issue. While the story shows us how a mischievous mind can drive a wedge between the husband and wife or for that matter, two close relatives or friends, there are instances where, even well-intentioned, but misconceived or erroneous interference by outsiders (I call them interested third parties) like parents or in-laws or even loyal servants brought the same effect. Classic examples are the roles played by Manthara in Ramayana and Sakuni in Mahabharatha. They believed that they were actually protecting the interests of their loved ones namely, Bharatha in Ramayana and Kauravas in Mahabharatha. But the result was disastrous. A few minutes of counseling (in reality, brainwashing), changed Kaikeyi from her adoration of Rama, to treating him as her bitter enemy and usurper of Bharatha’s fortunes. She wanted him to go immediately. It was like someone flogging a top class horse, already galloping fast, to go faster. And Kaikeyi turned so ruthless that she wanted even Seetha to shed her ornaments and wear the bark of trees, which she herself brought and handed over to Rama. She did not heed the pleas of elders to spare Seetha. It took a volley of abuse from the usually soft-spoken Guru Vasishta to make Kaikeyi relent and allow Seetha to wear clothes befitting her status as a princess. Such is the power of mischievous counseling. The only justification for this, if at all one wishes to exonerate Manthara, is the strong attachment which Manthara had towards her mistress Kaikeyi and her son Bharatha. Her concern, viewed in the narrow perspective of a menial, was their welfare and not the larger interests of the nation.
Opposed to this is the mischievous mind like Ramu’s in our story, where one interferes just to satisfy one’s ego or purely for sadistic pleasure. Most of us would have read or heard the story of the washer-man, his son and their donkey. They listened to gratuitous advices given by every passer- by and came to grief.
Looked at from the other side, let us admit that the tendency to give advice is a general trait among our population. Some such “wise” people even go to the extent of warning us that we would repent if we do not act on their advice. One has to be very circumspect when listening to or acting on other peoples’ advice. I too have incurred losses and gone through unnecessary trouble, by accepting unsolicited advice, though on some occasions even unsolicited advice turned out to be for good. That is why I said one has to be circumspect in accepting it.
At the same time, let us not forget that our scriptures like Upanishads are full of words of wisdom. Thirukkural is another treasure. We have to differentiate between general words of wisdom for the well-being of humanity and those given by individuals to us whether solicited or unsolicited. The greatest and most precious piece of advice which our Ithihaasas and Puraanas contain is Bhagavathgeetha. Even here, Lord Krishna does not voluntarily pour out his advice, unsolicited. Arjuna is confused and refuses to do his duty because of a misconception and indulges in self-condemnation, at a juncture when his inaction would bring total disaster and miscarriage of justice. He seeks the Lord’s advice “Sishyastheham Saadhi maam thvaam prapannam”. It was equally incumbent upon Lord Krishna as the relative, friend and of course, the Lord of the Universe and protector of Dharma, to give Arjuna, a clear vision of his role and duty. A lengthy and meaningful dialogue follows and every point is cleared.
Even then, at the end the Lord says “Ithi the gjnaanamaakhyaatham Guhyaathguhyatharam mayaa/// Vimrisyaithadasheshena yatthhecchasi thatthha kuru” (thus knowledge has been imparted to you by me, knowledge that is most mysterious and secret which is not to be revealed to all and sundry. Please ponder over it critically and thoroughly and act as you please). The Lord does not ask Arjuna to follow the advice blindly. He desires Arjuna to exercise his discretion and decide. Arjuna’s reply is also noteworthy “Nashto mohah Smrithirlabhdha Thvathprasadath mayaachyutha / Stthhithosmi Gathasandehah Karishye vachanam thava” (I am disillusioned. My doubts have been cleared. I shall act according to your advice). Verses 63 and 73 Chapter 18 of Bhagavathgeetha.
We should know exactly when we really need advice, we should know whom to approach for advice, we should know what we should disclose and what not to disclose, for giving too much will only confuse the thinking and cloud the perception, and we should pin-point the aspects on which we need advice. In other words, it should be a language of specifics and haziness should be avoided. No aspect pertinent to the issue should be left in doubt.
I hope this piece will not be consigned to the trash can, but it will be accepted as a useful note, emanating from past experiences of an old man and lessons he learnt.
P.G.krishnamoorthy 8 A/12, Brindavan, Thane West – 400601, Maharashtara State, India.
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