Oh goodness...
That was a long time ago. Well... perhaps not that many years, but a lot of hair has been lost since then
Actually, I used to play quite a lot in those days, and this picture was taken at the home of the mridangist I most used to work with.
Well, really, it is his mother's house. One of the London veena teachers. This would have been Vijayadashami in about 2004. All of her students would come and play, we would accompany, and the event went on for as long as eight to ten hours, especially if it was a weekend. Everyone from new students paying Sa Pa Sa to post-arangetram elders. Long and hard, it was tremendous fun. I used to look forward to Vijayadashimi much more than Christmas
You can find some more recent photos of me playing for rasikas.org jam sessions, but otherwise, these days, I am only to be found in the audience.
By the way... at the beginning of our working relationship, my two "seniors," the mridangist and ghatam player, were about 11. I guess I was 40-plus, and sometimes the naughtiest child of all ]

. They were very, very happy days, and (even though I guess the pic is on my own rather neglected website) I'm happy to see this reminder.
To fill the detail: I learnt mridangam (PSP school) from Sri M Balachandar at VBV, London, who patiently put up with me being a first-year student for about ten years. He is still my friend and "Guruji" and will remain so. I became something of a collector of instruments, and asked a friend to get me a morsing from Chennai. Somehow, I took to the instrument. When I took it to class, Gurji gave me a couple of corrections and said, "play this weekend." Thus I was included in one of the Bharatya Vidya Bhavan's student orchestras long before I had a clue what I was doing. I used to get very scared about going on stage then! One day, Guruji said, "Learning without playing has no meaning!"
We used to play outside concerts at various London temples and other venues. Whilst I am sure I was the school's "token brit," I did learn from being dropped in the deep end. One day, I was sent, with a mridangist classmate, to accompany Sivatharini Sahathevan's student veena orchestra at London Muragan Temple --- and she was kind enough to invite me to play for them again, eventually turning into a regular arangement, with her son Abhi playing mridangam, and Gautham playing ghatam.
As we became a team, we regularly played for other youngsters at Temple and Sri-Lankan-social functions. Still confused by anything beyond Adi Talam, Samam Edupu (hence the perpetual first-year bit) I was now, at least, making more-or-less appropriate noises at the right moments, and appearing as more than just token Brit.
I do recall one occasion when I played at East Ham Murugan temple, with my Guruji, for a professional musician from India. Whilst my Guruji would
always have found ways to accommodate the least experienced on a stage, it was still deeply embarrassing. It is no bad thing to be put in one's place from time to time: I was very confident at the level at which I could, and mostly did, perform, but I knew my limitations, even though I was expanding them slowly.
Before I abandoned London, one of the dance teachers had given me the chance to play for a couple of Arangetrams. Generally, you will not find me often in Bharatanatyam audiences as I am not very keen --- but, from the musician's platform it is a much more interesting business. Had I stayed there, I would have liked to learn more of dance accompaniment, and would have had one of the best possible teachers --- but I followed the sun instead.
Here, in Chennai, I found that even the children are way ahead of me. Better to enjoy the concerts from the audience.