Not Child’s Play Or Is It?

In the Tamil month of Margazhi (typically from December mid to January mid), all kinds of auspicious events take place in the southern state of Tamil Nadu. After all, even in the tenth chapter of Bhagavad Gita, even Sri Krishna says that He is margashirsha amongst the months. Mostly, the month is marked by two-three significant practices. First, one will find the doorway of every household adorned by really big and complex kolam or rangoli. Typically, two lamps are lit and placed in the wee hours of the morning. Not a practice followed for the rest of the year. Second, it is the month-long plea and evolution of the saint Andal, before she attains Maha Vishnu as her consort. So the mornings are marked by devotees visiting temples or chanting her paasurams (verses glorifying the Lord). By morning here, the timing is pre-dawn! While Vaishnavite devotees can be spotted rendering the paasurams, the Shaivite devotees sing the Thiruvempavai, hymns composed by the saint Manickavasagar. And if not either, one can still spot old-school bhajan mandalis going around town simply singing kirtans and bhajans till dawn breaks. Around some big temples, one can also spot traditional vedic groups chanting vedas and moving around the precincts of the temple. It is indeed the most auspicious hour of the most auspicious month.Third, and the central focus of my wonder here, is the month-long recitals of Carnatic music and Bharatnatyam dance in the various sabhas. Expert artistes—vocalists, percussionists, string and wind artists, dancers, drama troupes—all flock the stages with ethereal performances. The city of Chennai, especially, hosts over a thousand performances within a month. This even invites NRIs who make a beeline to be in the city—to study and savour the classical arts—for just one month. My father sowed in me the seeds of interest to attend and relish in these concerts quite early on. So, after many years of travelling for work, I finally had a chance to be in Chennai, the last Margazhi. After attending several concerts, I noticed that there were extremely few artists who had original compositions. Carnatic music is more than a millennia old, and has had several composers whose compositions run into lakhs maybe. With 72 main ragas, innumerable janya ragas, and 108 main rhythmic cycles (or taal), mastering even a few hundred compositions can take the whole lifetime for any artist. To explore beyond the already established works of saint composers like Thyagaraja, Muthuswami Dikshitar, Shyama Shastri, Annamacharya, Purandaradasa, Bhadrachala Ramadasa and innumerable others would require mastery beyond measure. Further, later age poets like Mahakavi Subramania Bharati or Papanasam Sivan too have lent their pieces to the treasure house of compositions.So now arises the fundamental question of how can an artist be a creator and not just a performer? Within the realm of established compositions, the artists have their own space for improvisation in the alaap (imaginary runs of the raga), typically in the prelude or interludes. However, how can one truly and wholly create something new in the classical arts?I am reminded of the old Calvin & Hobbes comic where Calvin attributes creativity to a process called ‘last-minute-panic’. But this is not that. I believe this is just the opposite. ‘First-moment-surrender’, maybe.When the saint composers put together their compositions, it was always a plea, an admonishing, a case of wonder, or love, where the subject of the composition was always a Bhagwan or Devi. In the age of Artificial Intelligence and fast remixes, creators have found a shortcut to producing art. This cannot be applied to classical arts though. One can’t remix bhakti or copy-paste AI generated ‘bhava’. It is here that artists who truly retain their child-like wonder, innocence and devotion in their practice become conduits for the Creator. In their absolute surrender and skillful mastery, they become creators too. I was privileged enough to witness the concerts of a few such legends this season. In their bhakti, they made complex original compositions look like child’s play. As an audience member though, I’d rather think it was God playing through them.

Not Child’s Play Or Is It?

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