Hmmmm…. The destined hour has finally arrived it seems. After the 10 day visit to paradise, the time has come at last, to sit back, to reflect and most importantly, to look forward.
Forewarning: This document shall be a mix of the good’s and the not-so-good’s encountered at the convention, along with ideological tit-bits interspersed as and when deemed necessary. This is in NO WAY a “proper” report on the event.
It is not too often that one comes across a phenomenon which compels the mind and soul to open itself up to a whole new dimension of expression, devotion and consciousness; which takes one to the threshold of a universe as yet unexplored, and lets him/her take the first step (of a million) into the unknown. SPIC MACAY is one such entity.
However, even within this “rarest of rare” experience, there exists a breed of events, which forces one to question ones beliefs, ideals and objectives; to contemplate into unprecedented levels of joy, sorrow, sensitivity and downright humanity. For me, THIS is where the Jammu Convention comes in.
The complete experience started with the journey to Jammu itself. Nothing much to mention, except that it was a “truly enriching experience”, in the art of working and not working. Come to think of it, that sums up some portions of the remaining convention as well, but getting into that now would be getting ahead of the story.
The convention started off on a pedestrian note (quite literally), with the NSIT Chapter spending a good hour on the pavement, indulging in the first of MANY conceptual discussions. In a few hours, we managed to arrange for a room, and shifted base from the confines of the public guest room.
Then came the big National Executive Meeting, where Manish was pronounced Secretary. Little did we know then that THAT one step would open the floodgates to all our responsibilities/duties/labour.
After the registration formalities were done with, things went to a temporary high with the introduction of delegates. NSIT machaoed to a degree unheard of, representing Delhi as the true cultural potpourri that it is. Manish in particular and NSIT in general, along with some more of our anmol rattan were proclaimed as Team Fix-It. Most of us had that SLIGHT sense of unease seeping into us by now.
The inaugural night that followed just went on to confirm what we had been expecting. It will not be remembered as an ideal one for those of NSIT and our sweet Ma’am from Uttam School.
What was supposed to be an evening of enchantment and wonder courtesy the great Pt. Birju Maharaj, turned into one where one was required to run around for a table, pick up cartons of merchandise and finally be sales reps for the movement.
Even as I write this, I realize the importance of this activity, and also that we, being the chapter we’ve been, were the obvious choice to take on responsibility. HOWEVER, I would still say that a shift based dissemination of responsibilities would have best suited the interests of the volunteer-rasik in us. Something to think about (AND easily implement-able) I’m sure.
The saving grace of course was the fact that our “children” (read freshers) did manage to attend most of the, what was an AMAZING, performance. My only regret personally, shall be Parikh’s inability to experience the magic in all its magnificence.
That night was consumed by a little more soul searching, and LOTS of thass to go with it. Ashish and I had a nice foray to the terrace, where there were several moments of absolute creative brilliance!
The next morning, after most of us at least had chucked (much to our future regret) the Yoga session AND the talk AND the intensive, I attended the State Coordinators Meet. My presence was brought to an abrupt halt by the arrival of the Kathakali maestros, Guru Kalamandalam Ramankutty Nair and Guru Kalamandalam Gopi. Finding myself in the odd position of being the sole (albeit inadequate) “Mallu in da House” and inspired by my need to discover my roots, I pounced on the opportunity of “coordinating” their event. During the course of this coordination business, I managed to swap my slippers for one 2 sizes too small, land the job of “uninspiring event compere pre event, gone gaga-googoo-high-bawra-TOTALLY inspired post it”, make a nice acquaintance with a kind old driver who took me to the super market to get the artiste’s requirements, and win some sort of confidence of the greatest living legends from my land.
In all, it was an absolutely BEAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUTIFUL day.
Of course, it was not quite as beautiful for some among us. This issue formed the crux of MOST of our actions over the coming days…
Returning to the story… That night, we successfully survived an overnight of our own, in order to attend the Yoga session the next morning, following which I went and bought some bananas for my by now beloved Gurus. It is THIS sense of service towards souls of such near-divinity that inspires us volunteers to move forward.
Anyway, that day, after the requisite sleep compensation, we took the first step in a conscious effort to rescue the convention for our children, for whom it had been a fairly dry affair up until now.
In the team from NSIT, Manish and I were the only ones who’d attended Jaipur. So for us, and for Parikh as well, this convention one characterized by inherent responsibilities and the need to nurture the interests of our beloved children; unlike Jaipur where we ourselves were part of the star-struck kids band, devouring every moment of blissful enlightenment like a toddler attends to a lollipop.
Hence, we made up our minds, and SOMEHOW managed to shrug off work, and attend the FANTABULOUS Dolls Theatre by Sh. Sudip Gupta, followed by Sankhvadyam and Purulia Chhau (we all fell in love with marigold-esque shaded, Einstein-esque mane-d, flimsily tailed, baby-on-coffee hyper-actified LION!). It must be said, the first step was a pretty successful one. Kandisa!
The thass session on the terrace that night was something not too distant from divine. It brought us all to tears (branding this part as ‘thass’ will not quite be appropriate), and later to the throes of EXTREME laughter; we had an all expenses paid trip to the brink of insanity, AND (thankfully!) back. It is when I look back at evenings such as those, that I can say without a strand of exaggeration OR deceit, that thass truly forms the core of our existence. And mind it, I am NOT laughing right now.
And I almost forgot in all this rush, that we were joined at Jammu by our super-duper senior, Pratibha Ma’am, currently in the US. She brought with herself that sense of calm and composure that only real experience can bring. As I later discovered, she also played an integral role in the convention rescue operations mentioned before.
The next day dawned upon us, and as had become the norm by now, the “NSIT de munde” managed to miss the morning session. After lunch, we took our boldest step of this convention, in our continuing efforts to make the convention more human, less mechanical and downright more “quintessential SPIC MACAY as we know it”.
We, quite openly in the end, and with the blessings of the one senior member whose consent we REALLY wanted before embarking on this rebel journey, ditched the movie, AND the State Coordinators meet and had a conceptual/thass session of our own, quite literally a stone’s throw from the venue of the state meeting.
We sang, we shared experiences, we INTERACTED, we had arbit random fun. In short, we thassoed away to glory in that 2 hour period. It was a worthy substitute for the till not so long back officially held, Informal Session. The only limitation being that it was confined to us and our children, meaning NSIT, St. Mark’s and the one lucky volunteer from Panipat. But then again, every revolution starts from humble beginnings.
At this point I cannot help but elaborate a LITTLE on the root cause of our break-away session.
ANY students’ movement, and SPIC MACAY in particular, always has been and SHOULD always be, before ANYTHING else, about the volunteer and his/her upliftment/enlightenment/growth and downright well being. Yes, the ideology, the art, the service is all important, but NEVER at the cost of personal joy/contentment. A movement remains one only till the time its volunteers remain truly ALIVE.
This cause is NOT helped by scheduling a NATIONAL CONVENTION (read those words carefully – This event is supposed to be a forum where volunteers from across the nation meet, interact, grow) with events packed from dawn to dusk, leaving absolutely NO time for inter-personal communication, conceptual/ideological discussions, orientations on what the movement can really offer to its volunteers, and lest I forget, THASS.
Thus, that BEAUTIFUL thass session passed. Ajit and I dropped off Pratibha Ma’am at the Railway Station, and returned in time for Pt. Ulhas Kashalkar, and later Pt. Shiv Kumar Sharma.
And it was THEN, that I began to realize the OTHER extremity in ideology. Apparently there was a plan to take our children to a separate section of the hall, so we could all have more thass. I personally was VERY very VERY against the very idea.
TRUE, this convention was over-scheduled; TRUE it left little time for interaction et al; but none of that justifies missing out on concerts by SUCH legends. The very idea smelt badly of overkill. There’s a very thin line between thassoing for conceptual/intellectual refreshment, and just for the heck of it. I personally feel, when you have had a fruitful session earlier in the day, it is your DUTY to USE the performances offered to you on a silver platter, to elevate your own consciousness to an altogether different level. Appreciating such art requires an open and fresh mind, but once achieved, one must know how to use it for a SLIGHTLY higher purpose; for one’s own growth and spirito-intellectual progress. (YES I coined that term just NOW.)
Anyhow, I’m not too sure how things passed that night. I expressed my open disagreement and stepped away. I sincerely hope most of our beloved children got to experience the magic that was on show that amazing night.
That day was marked by the open reprimanding of one of our senior most volunteers at the hands of THE man. As we soaked in the events of the whole day, we realized how the treatment meted out to him was a consequence not only of his minor blemish, but also of our actions, and the happenings in and around the bourgeois cafeteria.
That night we returned to our abode with the sincere intentions of sleeping like decent beings. However, the burden of guilt, and the plight of that pure volunteer ensured that we had a true and cathartic talk with him, explaining the various factors that had soured this convention to a certain extent. It was unanimously decided that none of us would “work” the next day.
The next day, most of us got to attend a truly BREATH TAKING performance by our beloved Fahim Saheb. Barring the inconsistencies of the obviously inexperienced Pakhawaj player, the event was a real treat for the senses and beyond.
This being the final day also meant that we were supposed to present what we’d learnt at our intensives. Thus, ALL the practice, toil and effort that we had put in our respective intensives came to the fore now. Kathakali got maximum participation from our extended family, and the performance was superb (despite some critical reviews I received later!).
Chhau and Sankhvadyam performances were astounding as well.
Earlier in the day, we’d spent most of the “sleep time” thassoing with our pyaare se bachche. No regrets there, whatsoever.
The Overnight that followed was the stuff that legends are borne out of. Even though we missed most of the Carnatic Violin thanks to a missing purse caper in our family, the Vocal performance by Ust. Abdul Rashid Khan Saheb was celestial in terms of elevation, POWERFUL in terms of sheer magnitude, and downright miraculous considering we were presented with SUCH a treat by a 99 year old artiste, half blind and leper. I get goose bumps just thinking about that experience.
Also, I was fortunate enough to gain SOME gyaan in the field of Hindustani Classical, thanks to the pyaari si bachchi seated next to me, who was a 6 year veteran in learning Classical music. I obviously grabbed at this opportunity to elevate my technical level from a state of impoverished illiteracy all hands flinging! Bless you bachchi…
If this performance was awe-inspiring, then the next was enough to blow life into a defeated soul. Sh. T.M. Krishna’s Carnatic Vocal was the epitome of controlled vocal might. Without doubt THE performance of the convention, after the one it followed.
After his performance, Ashish and I couldn’t help but ask him the one question that had haunted us the entire while: During the performance, he would have his eyes closed for long stretches, his hands making intricate patterns on an invisible canvas, and his voice spewing pure melody. We asked him as to exactly what WAS it that his inner eye saw in those periods that inspired him to give SUCH an enthralling performance.
His answer was certainly very thought provoking: “That’s a very interesting question… With my eyes closed, I see what I’m singing, I see the MUSIC…” is what I remember to be his reply.
People, THIS is what SPIC MACAY gives to you that NOBODY else can offer. To have the greatest living artistes perform AND share their inner most thoughts with you is nothing short of a privilege to be cherished.
After this wonder ride, what followed was a comparatively less inspiring performance (at least from what I heard) by Ust. Shahid Pervez on the Sitar. By this time I was slightly busy back stage, helping out here and there, explaining the concept of thass to the wonderful volunteers from down south, and in the end, helping another one of our pyaari si bachchiyan out with her compeering speech for the last event. As I would slowly discover, the last activity would affect me and my subsequent thought the most.
The bachchi who was to compeer the last event was surprisingly mature and critical of some of the things she had observed. I must admit, explaining the nuances of the volunteer effort, the bond between the rasik and the upaasak, relating our own experiences with our beloved gurus over the years, was a truly soul searching experience. The fresh views posed by this brave new mind were a nice test for the age old views that us relative old timers had come to cherish. And perhaps MOST importantly, her ONE question really REALLY shook me: “Why didn’t you tell us all this before ever?”
It was then that I saw the glaring inadequacies in our heavy dependence on the seemingly all encompassing concept of thass. Even though it indeed is, the version that we’d put forward so far certainly DID lack in the truly conceptual paradigm. Nothing inspires a volunteer like a memorable interaction with a truly saintly artiste. And it killed me to think that we had just NOT shared our many such experiences often enough.
Eventually, the overnight came to an end. Sh. Venkatesh Kumar was very inspiring in the little that I got to hear of him (owing to all the WORK, not my tribute to Hypnos!), and it’s a pity that 90% of the audi was asleep.
We then had a highly disillusioning trip to Raghunath Mandir, which was followed by the inevitable parting of ways. Our bachche, along with the rest of the Delhi Chapter left for Delhi, while we, Team NSIT left for Katra and the Vaishno Devi pilgrimage.
The entire pilgrimage was a sequence of beautiful memories. Bonds with our own children were strengthened. Ajit’s act of selflessness at Ardhkwari HAS to stand out as THE moment of the pilgrimage. Without his persistence and subsequent large heartedness, our pilgrimage would CERTAINLY have been majorly deficient.
In the midst of all the divinity, we managed to further pursue our spirit of scientific inquiry, approve the standards of Government approved institutions run along the way, test the limits of fatigue and sleep deprivation and beyond.
Upon our return to Katra, the sight seeing that followed was also pretty memorable. The journey, the rain, Mansar, Ashish’s minor faux pas, the deceitful tour operator… They’ll all be a part of our cherished memories for a long long time to come.
Back at Jammu, we visited a Gurudwara and a Church. Thus rounding off what had already been a pretty perfect day.
The return journey was marked by a visible emotional outbreak by some of us at Pathankot. Parikh, we all LOVE you man! God Bless…
Later, at Delhi, when we all parted ways after 10 days of pure paradise, we knew these days that had just passed were certainly special, and worthy of such a long drawn “report”.
And by the end of it all, the pure and unbridled LOVE that permeated the air, it was just SO beautiful. Just thinking about it brings a tear to my eye. Indeed to steal from our great Mughals, I daresay, at that one moment, if there had been a paradise on earth, it was there, it was there.
People, we have been in the midst of divinity, greatness, and downright heaven. It is up to us to move forward and make the most of all the inspiration that we have been blessed with. After all, inspiration IS the root for all of our work.
And deriving from what I had mentioned on our way to Ardhkwari, after the scientific explorations had been successfully completed:
“The moment shall soon pass us; after that we will be mere mortals.”
And thus I conclude my essay on all that has been part of those 10 beautiful days.
Live life to the fullest.
From Thoreau’s Walden:
“I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life…”
Cheers to SPIC!
Kandisa for life!
Aanandam…
