The Tradition

Rajam was feeling thrilled as he rushed out of his house into the dusty lanes of Georgetown. The temple nagaswaram player in the background, his thoughts were racing faster than ever. Begging and pleading had not worked with Amma ever! But this time she had no excuses, she was finally going to teach him that Dikshitar masterpiece today. That krti that had caught his attention as a child, which had created that mad desire in him to perform like her, thrill the audience with his rendition and imagination on stage. But she had always declined his requests - she had told him he was just not ready! And he must learn ten other krtis in the same raga before she would teach that one song to him.

‘Rajam, buy some milk on the way back from class. And dont stay there too long, come home and study. You have your engineering exams coming up soon!’ his mom yelled.
‘Uh, yes...I will be back soon.’
He was trying some swara kalpana in his mind, and he didn’t really listen to what his mother was saying. It didn’t matter to him, he had decided that he wanted to be a musician. There was no other way. He had the potential too, everybody knew he was one of best among the young. Then he also had the grace of Amma and her teaching.

Her’s was a great tradition. She had learnt from the blind genius Caminatha Aiyer till she was of age and then came back to her family to continue her learning. This gave her original compositions from all of the great composers of the past three centuries - given that the oral traditions were very strictly preserved in those times. The guru’s word was final, there was no challenging it. Even one doubting glance would be unacceptable. A sensitive ear to capture every minute detail, and a phenomenal memory had made her one of the biggest authorities in music in south India. No wonder Rajam wanted to learn only from her. Even at a young age he had the ability to distinguish the subtle from the crass, the knowledgable from the charlatans and the exceptional teachers from the oridinary.

Rajam was running now. If he wasn’t there at six with the tambura tuned and ready to go, she would not teach. He rushed into the courtyard and he could hear the drone in the background. That was another advantage of being at her place - other great musicians would visit now and then to hear her sing. After all, she knew of things in music that others hadn’t heard of. In fact, that day she had sung a concert where no one in the audience had heard any of those songs before! Even the mangalam! Rajam picked up his tambura and was tuning it as she came in:
‘Rajam, is it very hard for you to come on time?’ letting her glasses drop to her nose as she peered down on him.
‘No, amma. Homework is due tomorrow, took too much time. Wont happen again.’ he pleaded.
‘Ok. Sing me the varnam I taught you last, if you sing well I will teach you something new.’
That was it. He had practiced it, and this was the only way he could get that Saveri Krti from her today. Once he had finished, she seemed stoic. That was usually a sign of approval. He was in luck. Amma tuned her voice and sang a brief alapanai and then sang:

shri rAjagopAla bAla shRHNgAralila shritajanapAla

What! How could she sing that? Even Rajam knew that was wrong. He couldn’t believe she had sung a Kaisiki note in Saveri. In his surprise, he stared at her in disbelief. Before he could realise his mistake of doubting her, it was too late. She looked back at him with a steely glance, got up, and left! Rajam had to leave too, there was no arguing. As he walked back home, he was
brooding about the incident. He felt like beating himself up. What if she stops teaching him?

‘...and then she gave me an angry stare, and left the class unfinished!’, Rajam finished telling his
mother.
‘Did you get the milk?’, she asked, with no concern for his trauma.

Rajam didn’t sleep that night.

His day at school was the same. It reaffirmed his belief that music was the only way for him. But given that Amma had disowned him, he was seriously contemplating starting to listen to his Arithmetic teacher more intently. If he couldn’t learn from her, there was no point.
‘Rajam - I met Amma today, she asked you to come at six as usual’, his mother announced as he entered his house. Thank heavens! She was not angry with him anymore, and he ran to her house. As he entered, she was busy in the kitchen, but she noticed him come in.
‘Do you know how to read Telugu?’ she asked, without even turning towards him.
‘Yes amma.’
‘Go the music room, I have kept a book for you. Read it aloud, I should be able to hear you.’
As Rajam entered the room, there was a copy of a tattered book lying on the table - open, with some lines highlighted. The Sampradaya Pradarshini! That too the original text in Telugu. Rajam took the book carefully in his hand:
‘Saveri Ragam uses the Kaisiki note in some phrasings...’
‘Thats enough. Go tune your tambura’, she didnt let him finish!

Rajam sang well that day. Every phrase was repeated by him accurately, and his teacher was pleased. At the end of the class, Rajam couldn’t resist asking her.
‘Why, Amma, have we started to discard these older notes in our ancient rAgas? What is the way to decide between what is correct and what is wrong?’, Rajam was a stickler for perfection, it worried him that he had made an error in judgment.
‘rAgAs are changing all the time, kanna. We have to use our own judgment to decide what changes are for the good and which ones are a loss to our music. I have seen our music change in my time, so will it in yours. You have to learn to live with the times and preserve our tradition too. Look how people are using the melakarthas to explain the structure of the old rAgAs, these people are trying to mold an ancient culture to western ideas! I can only laugh at them!’
‘But what about the common people who listen to us? What will they think? Dont we have to sing for them?’
‘True, we have to worry about those too. But in the end, what do you think our music was meant for?!’

Twenty years went by. Rajam was now the most popular musician in the whole of Patnam. Who was there to equal him in niraval or swaram? And who knew more krtis than he did? The other day he performed outside the Parthasarathi temple. Thousands flocked to listen to his performance, some just standing in the crowds to get a glimse of him. The best accompanists - three percussionists, a morsing and a violin to go with him. It was a treat! There was a silent nod of contentment as he took up the famous Saveri Dikshitar Krti. Rajam noticed that Amma was there in the second row, trying to be inconspicuous! But how could he miss her?
Rajam rendered shri rAjagopAla without the kaisiki note that day. Not the way he learnt it. He couldn’t! There was too much reputation at stake. Too many people judging his performance, he didn’t want to risk it. After the concert, hundreds came to him to offer their respect and adoration, but he was looking for only one person. She had left.

The whole town was talking about his fantastic performance that night. But somehow, Rajam lay in bed twisting and turning, somehow, he just couldn't sleep.