How I coped? By counting bulbs, fans, and mamas saying ‘Sabhash!’
The U-12 me did not like going to ‘kutcheris’ - Carnatic music concerts. If you lived in Madras, the December ‘season’ of music was a golden chance to get a booster dose of high culture. We lived at a (robustly sung) song’s throw from many major Sabhas where the lineups were top-notch and the food rumoured to be first-rate sideshows.
That was no consolation. However much the future me would regret it, the present me wanted to go out to play, read, and watch TV. But I got dragged along to listen (and, they hoped, get interested) to some admittedly fine voices and instrumentalists.
So I spent a couple of hours counting the bulbs, fans, and mama-mamis making a ruckus. This would get me through to the ‘Mangalam’ - only for the singer to give into a ‘request’ or twenty.
(image: Wikimedia Commons)
The K.J. Yesudas concert was the one time my census of light fixtures was not needed. The maestro’s performance had something about it that snagged even this young boy’s attention. It was a pure classical performance, untainted by his parallel and massively successful film career.
I was reminded of the legend today because I caught an early morning DD archive rerun of the singer. In 2020, he looks like a sage, with black mane & beard replaced with a snow-white edition.
(image: Wikimedia Commons)
Now, Yesudas’s life arc has always intrigued me - the religious tussles, the devotion & spirituality, becoming a colossus of his art while earning pan-Indian popularity through movies. There’s a lot in common with his contemporary from across the border: Ilaiyaraja. Add to the wishlist for biography or a documentary and the hope that someone will explore these overlapping stories.
I will close by posting the most incongruous use of Yesudas’s voice in films: as Sanjay Dutt’s voice in Daud (I do like the song).