The last weekend was a dream!

Anticipated, dreaded, feared, awaited!

I was in the presence of legendary artistes… one of whom, I had seen perform as a young child, long, long ago in Pondicherry… Ustad Zakir Hussain!

He needs no introduction! And I am recounting my experience in such a muddled fashion! 

Let’s rewind a little…

My organization, SIFAS, a non-profit institution for promoting Indian Classical Arts, organised a mega show called Triveni, featuring Ustad Zakir Hussain, the tabla virtuoso, Violin Maestra Kala Ramnath and Veena Maestra Dr. Jayanthi Kumaresh!

We just had two months to prepare! There were a zillion things to be done… a small team to do it… 

In the beginning, it was hard… the key people were traveling and we were left straddling time zones… Sleepless nights followed, plans were made to be destroyed, new plans emerged… there was a new production company to officially launch, and the workload increased…

To cut a rather long and boring story short… I didn’t have time to think… and when I did, I feared dropping one of the many balls up in the air! There was too much at stake! I didn’t believe I would have the energy to fully realise, accept and feel the wonder of seeing such a legend! 

But everything changed on that fateful Saturday morning – 13^th Aug 2022! 

He walked in, all casual in a white shirt and grey trousers, laughing, joking… making a dive to touch my boss’s feet as she protested loudly, while she was trying to bow down to him… I was too late to capture the moment, but the laughter of the bystanders is etched in my mind… 

Zakirji acknowledged us all; witty, humorous, he was so humble that one almost forgot his “ohda” (cannot find the exact word in English). When I was introduced, the president mentioned that I too was from Pondicherry.

“So, you speak French?”

I nodded and smiled, murmuring “Yes!”

“Tres bien!” he said, as he turned away to greet another person.

“Merci beaucoup!” I murmured, feeling stupid for a second.

Later, as I served him some hot tea and snacks, he looked at me saying, “Why am I the only one demonstrating how to eat?” The others responded they had already eaten, but I quickly picked up a plate and tried to eat something, although I was very nervous!

He was curious about the local food served to him, listening patiently as my colleague explained it to him. He made an effort to talk to everyone, making eye contact, and sharing a joke.

Each time I showed him the way, he stopped and said, “After you… You know the way, I don’t, I will follow.” Despite the fact that there were others before me, who would show him the way. A true gentleman! 

The intimate press conference was a revelation. The anecdotes, interspersed with dry humour, the profound philosophy, and his deep abiding love for his motherland, despite living abroad for more than five decades, held the audience spellbound. He recounted how his celebrated father, Ustad Alla Rakha, in his early years, didn’t have enough money to feed the family. And yet when his students complained of lack of funds, he would borrow from another person to help them. Indian classical music had over the centuries been sustained and upheld by the generosity of the princely kings, and as the kingdoms died, art struggled to survive.

“Indian Art became a profession only after 1947,” he said, a perspective I had never thought of.

Maestra Dr. Jayanthi Kumaresh’s humility, shy smile and kind eyes were very endearing. Her immense respect for the legend was evident in her posture, her every word as she explained how she has tried to find her own voice, keep in mind the teaching of her gurus.

Zakirji expounded on his love for India, sharing how he believed that there were few nations, which had all the ingredients to be a superpower, the culture and the political strength to lead the world.

I was standing the whole time (something I rarely do) and caught myself pinching myself mentally… ‘It is true. He is here! All these weeks of tirelessly working for this moment… This very special occasion.’

We had the privilege of serving him a very traditional South Indian meal on a banana leaf… post which we had an interactive session with our teachers and senior students… 

The auditorium was packed, no one wanted to miss the chance to hear him speak. There are many legendary artists, but very few of them are so eloquent. We learnt a lot, especially about the age-old custom in Hindustani music called “Chilla” – a 40-day long solitary immersion into the artform, with no other human interaction! It is touted to be life-changing for many… some even losing their mind, for they could not confront their inner demons.

Zakirji recounted his own first chilla… a decision he took on the spur of the moment, in response to a scathing review by a family friend on one of his performances. He had not asked his guru, his father who was travelling at that time. When he came back home, so did his father. His mother informed his father about his chilla. Furious, pacing the room, Ustad Alla Rakha, asked him why he did it. Apologising for his decision, Zakirji requested his opinion on a rhythm pattern he had been practicing. His father heard the verbal recitation and started pacing again. Zakirji self-deprecatingly said, “I just heard… Tumhara beta… Tumhara beta (Your son…. Your son…).” The recriminations didn’t stop. His father then said to him that he had not taught Zakirji this pattern and asked him how he learnt it. Zakirji said that it came to him one day, during his chilla. His father insisted that he think back, and recount when and how it came to him. Recollecting it, Zakirji told him that one day, an old gentleman had approached him, and once he had left, he started playing this pattern. Pacing again, Ustad Alla Rakha was silent for some time, then asked him to describe this person. Zakirji complied. His father was stunned. He revealed that this rhythm pattern was taught to him by his great grand guru (dating back to almost 150 years), an Ustad… and the person Zakirji had described was him… Zakirji, just like his own father, Ustad Alla Rakha, had had a visitation, as the tradition continued…

Though I was tired, I didn’t want him to stop speaking… and I could have stood for a few more hours just listening to him. As the artists made to leave, I was reminded of India, as the audience, despite our announcement eagerly mobbed them…. While I sympathised, we had to refuse their requests for autographs and selfies, as we swiftly led him out to his car. 

And the day was over… but not our work… the team swiftly reconvened to prepare for the D-day, 14th August 2022, the concert at The Esplanade Concert Hall, on the eve of India@75! 

As I sat in the cab, on my way home, Rahul asked me what I would like to eat… Surprisingly I felt full of energy… my thoughts all around Ustad Zakirji… We went out for dinner, dressed down in an old T-shirt and a pair of shorts… but it was a perfect end to a wonderful day – a dinner date after ages during which Rahul was the perfect listener to my excited ramblings! 

I must say Rahul is a huge reason that the past few weeks was possible. He understood the pressures, knew when I needed some relaxing massage, when I needed to sleep. He encouraged me daily, and said the one thing I can never tire of hearing, “I am proud of you!” I had to prove his faith in me, and that of the others. 

***

Sunday dawned fine. Last minute issues cropped up… the usual problems! Not a spare ticket in sight… everyone wanting one! 

The Esplanade preparation and set up was handled by the rest of the team, while I tried to sort out the passes and tickets. As usual The Esplanade was like a 5-star hotel and a luxurious maze… figuring out our direction was a task in itself. 

Another huge highlight of the day was the chance meeting with Mr. Salim Merchant, the famous singer and composer. He walked in casually and I saw him in the corridor. I froze. Should I run and fetch my phone? Or should I escort him in! The girl lost, the woman won! Couldn’t request for a selfie, and couldn’t stop myself from gushing like a schoolgirl! 

During the sound check and after it, I noticed Zakirji’s calm and cool demeanour. He spoke affectionately with me and my colleague, asking the latter several questions as he noted she had not been present on Saturday. Maestra Dr. Jayanthi stole my heart with an easy-going manner, gentle understanding and cooperation. Maestra Kala Ramnath was very sweet, and almost childlike in her simplicity… The backstage hummed with anticipation! 

Out in front… the crowds were coming in… I was running to and fro, in my heavy blue sari, from the ticketing counter to the pre-event reception, while a very able team of volunteers were all set to help guide our VIP guests from the registration to the reception. Luckily for us, the plan ran smooth, as the Guest Of Honour and other dignitaries arrived on time.

Lo and Behold! Despite all our fears, the concert started on time! It was a melodious, soul-stirring one and half hours! The hall was packed, the audience thirsty for enthralling music after years of deprivation. 

The music was a conversation between three instruments, as the artistic imagination took a hike up the mountain, along the rivers, and through the forest. The play, the interactions, the confluence was a visual and auditory treat!

Zakirji engaged the audience by demonstrating different rhythm patterns mimicking Lord Shiva’s dumaroo, a deer foraging for food in the woods, catching sight of a hunter and galloping away, or the gracious, a little-too-late invitation to the audience to attend the concert!

As I stood in the foyer, watching the crowd exit the hall, I listened to the excited chatter, the bubbling happiness, the final photo taking, the air-kisses, the warm hugs – sounds of a successful evening.

It was over… months, weeks, days, minutes of non-stop planning and worrying is at an end. Everyone is happy. We are ecstatic. 

The team convened for a wonderful, tasty dinner post event. The relaxed atmosphere, the casual chatter, the banter, were visible signs of an inner sigh of relief. 

As I stood by Zakirji’s table, he called me, requesting for some dessert. I quickly get him one serving. He held my hand, gently kissed it and touched his forehead. I was stunned. He not only knew my name, for he had greeted me earlier in the day, but he showed his gratitude in such a gracious way for such a small deed.

All too soon, it was time to bid good-night and good-bye. He acknowledged each team member, shaking hands with them, saying encouraging words. When it was my turn, he held my hand and said something I will never forget, “Ishita is a very special caretaker… Thank you!” I was speechless. The president stepped in and recounted the story my father had told him that morning, of our family attending Zakirji’s performance in Pondicherry. And Zakirji recollected it and we spoke of a common acquaintance. Another thread bound us. 

A few days ago, if someone had told me all this would happen with me, I would have mocked them. But this was real. Or surreal. The blessings of a legend, whose life has been one long tapasya (meditation)!

Tonight, on one of the most special days of our lives, Sri Aurobindo’s 150th birthday and the 75th Independence Day, I sit back and reflect on the weekend and take this rare chance to feel proud of my childhood, of my parents’ upbringing and of the teachings of the Ashram. I am grateful for this immense opportunity and for being able to touch someone’s heart in this short period. It was unexpected and, therefore, all the more precious. 

As I waved good-bye, his car slowly driving away… I silently prayed for another opportunity… to witness his genius, to imbibe his gentle yet powerful presence, to assist him once more… 

Aurevoir! A bientot!