Recalling the good old ‘musical days' makes for joyful moments

Hans India

3 hours ago

Though a connoisseur of English and Telugu literature, a distinguished jurist, a successful advocate and a highly respected judge, my father had no ear for music. But unlike Shakespeare's 'The man that has no music in himself. Nor is moved with concord of sweet sounds, is fit for treason, stratagems, and spoils', he was a kind-hearted, affectionate, and friendly person, much liked by friends and relatives.
In 1966, as a post-graduate student in Osmania University, a few friends and I formed a group called 'Saaz Aur Awaaz' and occasionally performed variety entertainment programmes, comprising music, plays, skits, and such like. One afternoon, as our group was rehearsing for one of the events in the upstairs portion of our house, a friend of my father's, who had dropped in for a chat, asked him where I was. 'He and his friends are busy making what they call music', was his cryptic reply! It was my father, again, who remarked to another friend that I played the guitar with 'much greater enthusiasm than expertise!'
I have tried my hand at various activities, including outdoor games like cricket, table tennis, and tennis, indoor games such as chess, draughts and carroms. On occasion, I have also flirted with musical instruments, such as the mouth organ and the guitar. I managed to attain reasonable levels of proficiency in nearly all of them, while failing to excel in any one of them. Somewhat similar was my affair with the art of singing, in which I became good enough to be heard without complaint, but nowhere near being able to perform to a discerning audience.
The important thing, however, was that in all the activities, I was able to reach levels where I could appreciate the subtle nuances of the performance of talented experts, in games, or maestros, in vocal or instrumental music. My ability to enjoy and appreciate good performances gave me immense pleasure on several occasions.
Watching cricket greats such as the legendary Ghulam Ahmed, Sir Garfield Sobers, Sachin Tendulkar and Sunil Gavaskar, both at Hyderabad and Delhi, was an unforgettable experience. And equally memorable were the occasions, when I had the honour and privilege, of being part of a small and select group of listeners, when such legends as Duke Ellington and his Orchestra, the Violin wizard Dwaram Venkata Swami Naidu, Veena maestro Eemanii Sankara Sastry and distinguished exponents of vocal music, such as Mangalampalli Balamuralikrishna, Pandit Jasraj, Mehdi Hassan and Ustad Zakir Hussain, displayed their masterly skills.
The first tentative step I took in getting acquainted with the art of playing musical instruments was to learn to play on the harmonica or mouth organ. A friend of mine played it with such exquisite expertise that I brought for him a slide-button harmonica, or chromatic harmonica, which utilised a button– activated slide to change the pitch of the notes, a rare thing to possess those days.
Years later, keen to realise one of my childhood dreams, I approached Richard Gnanakan, who was playing the guitar as part of a band in the popular Lido restaurant in Secunderabad, with the request that he teach me to play the guitar. He agreed although the terms were rather expensive, as the lessons came at ₹10 per session! It was much later that I also had a shot at testing my skill at playing the Mrudangam from the well-known maestro Yella Venkateswara Rao, a short-lived and halfhearted trial that soon fizzled out.
Even in my school days, so intense was my interest in music that at 8 pm on the dot every Wednesday, I used to walk to a distant neighbour's house, to listen to the extremely popular 'Binaca Geet Mala', so wonderfully anchored by the legendary Ameen Sayani.
By then the popular Vividh Bharathi, an entertainment radio channel of what was then the All India Radio Radio (AIR), was yet to be launched. One had to tune into Radio Ceylon for the commercial variety of entertainment, such as music and plays. Several extremely popular programmes were on offer at that time, such as 'Ek Aur Anek' in which one popular singer figured in each item while others changed, and 'Purane Filmon Ki Sangeet' featuring numbers from the films of yesteryear.
Over time, our household graduated from only having a radio to acquiring a radiogram, one with a record changer to boot. Gramaphone records came at that time in three speeds, with different revolutions per minute-331/3, 45 and 78. I was soon to become the proud owner of my own radio set presented to me by my father on the eve of an important cricket match at Hyderabad. At a cost, no less, than the princely amount of ₹650!
In my childhood, I had participated in group singing and enacting of plays in radio programmes as a member of the Andhra Balananda Sangham, in the AIR station at Chennai. In later years, I occasionally summoned the temerity and the guts to test the patience of audiences, albeit with some moderate success, such as singing some popular 'The Beatles' hits, along with my 'Saaz Aur Awaaz' colleagues in the AIR station at Hyderabad, giving full vent to my lung capacity, to the rather indulgent audience of my batchmates, at our annual get-togethers and participating in mass nostalgia in the golden jubilee get-together of the 1968 IAS batch, at Mussoorie some years ago.
Some endearing moments I recall of the journey down memory lane, include listening to the popular Saturday night. 'A Date With You'' program as a college student at Delhi and, lest I forget, failing to qualify for the college music competitions, as a student at Hindu College, Delhi, and later consoling myself, that it was because I had chosen the wrong song!
(The writer was formerly Chief Secretary, Government of Andhra Pradesh)