Rare artists that I came across....

[ganeshkant]

As I was watching a concert in T.V I sensed some one behind me and turned and bit surprised to see him. He is our neighborhood grocer who doubles as a delivery boy since the boy he had employed eloped with some cash some time back. So his wife will take care of the shop when he goes out for delivery. Always in shorts and a cut banian he is a good looking and handsome man in his early 30’s with good features. I always used to admire him.

I turned back to T.V and motioned him to sit. He sat and watched the prog.with all fervor. At the end of the prog.I asked him with a bit of amusement,

“ so..U like classical music also?”

“ yes sir” and after a bit of hesitation he uttered this “ I AM A BHRATHANATYAM DANCER sir “.

My emotions were many and I responded “ really..?”

“just a few mins.sir” and he ran away and returned with a photo album and showed to me.I flipped the pages one by one and was astonished. It was his arangetram done in a prestigious city sabha.He enthusiastically explained the items he danced showing the relevant photographs.

I was awestruck and asked him

“ why r u running a grocery shop ?”

“ In fact I wanted to run a B/N school and came here (Vijaynagar,Velachery) from MaNNaDi where we lived. But already there were schools here. So I went and started a school further away just after PallikaraNai.I couldn’t get students.I ran it for 6 months with loss. My father won’t tolerate any longer. So I came and started running this shop which my father opened. Now I have become a full time grocer.” He completed in a pitiful voice and I also pitied for him.

“ Do U practice any more ?”

“ where is the time sir? I go to bed at 11 and wake up at 4 in the morning to pick up milk. I hardly get time for sleeping”

He left the place after a few mins.to look after his duties but disturbing me heavily.

This happened before 5 years. Recently when I had been there the place where his shop was there has been razed to pave way for a new building. I was told that he went back to Parry’s corner where he is running a mini super market along with his father. I only wish that the artist in him also live along with his changed life.

[varsha]

Was there not an artist , in each one of us . Who died long long ago ?

[Nick H]

The story is sad but beautiful.

There's always a hope he may be able to encourage the art in his children.

[tkb]

a moving incident indeed! As Nick H says lets pray he encourages it in his or any child with talents!

[Nick H]

An afterthought is that, even though he may be frustrated by joining the father's business, that father must have at least supported his study of dance and attempt to set up a school, and at least he tried.

The shops, offices, and factories of the world are full of would-be artists, most of whom do not anywhere near as far.

[CRama]

A very touching incident- but the tragic truth of life in many cases. Another instance of pullaankuzhal aduppu oodukirathu.
It will be more appropriate to name the thread as Hidden talents instead of rare artists.

[cienu]

A very moving real life story .

[ganeshkant]

It was late night. I was waiting in Takurli station for my train to go to Dombivili.I had just returned after my week end jam session with a group of like minded music lover friends. We used to discuss,sing,compose and what not …It was the middle of November and the breeze was pretty good.The station was deserted but for a couple of platform dwellers who were lying down covering fully.

I just started humming khamAs in a hushed tone .The man who was lying at a short distance moved a bit. I continued without bothering and he now sat up and looked at me with some interest. When I stopped at a gap he told ‘khamAs’ and sang a sangati which is possible only by some one who is adept in classical music. Just on hearing that I got horipilation in spite of the voice being very rough and coarse. I looked at him with some interest. The sparse light was not enough which was throwing partial illumination only to one side of him. I adjusted my eyes and found that he is with untrimmed beard all over his face but on the contrary he was near bald on his head. Very difficult to guess his age; he could be anywhere in the 30’s to 50’s.

Now the conversation between us:

‘ U must be a musician’
‘me..? he smiles ,’do I look like one ? don’t I look like a beggar ?’
…..
‘me..musician…’ he laughs heartily and the air brings the smell of alcohol.
‘where r u going ?’ he asks.
‘Dombivili’
‘Dombivili ? whats the time now ?
I see my watch and read the time with some difficulty and tell him
’11.40’
‘The next train is at 12.05 a.m.So U can’t go today but tomorrow ‘ he laughs at his own humor.

‘pl.tell me .R u not a musician ?’ I almost plead.

He goes in silence for a min.and tells me,

‘ there is no way I can cheat U.R u learning music?’

‘no…I learned a little when I was very small but I am a music lover no doubt ‘
Pl.tell about you’

‘U want to know about me ? Its not going to be a pleasant story ‘
‘that’s o.k.I still have close to 20 mins.for the train.We may not even meet again.So,pl.go ahead’ I goad him.

He starts slowly pausing every now and then ,

‘ how long r u in Bombay ?’

‘close to 4 years’
‘I see.So U know dArAvi and all ..’
‘yes.very well.had been there once or twice ‘
‘so U know..there are not only slums but a few good buildings also’
‘ya..I have seen’
‘have U ever come across this name ‘……’ a famous nAdaswaram vidwan ‘
‘no..I am not that close to that area nor know any body ‘
‘he is my maternal uncle ask any body. they will tell. There is a board also in front of that building’
‘is it ? I see..’
I am from a village near mAyavaram;came to Bombay when I was 18 after learning the art from my father. We were 4 sons and 5 daughters. So my father decided to send me here to be along with my uncle since the earning here is good’
I started going along with my uncle initially and was on my own after 3 years and used to be busy almost 365 days in a year. We used to play for functions, temple festivals. I have gone all over Maharashtra and major part of M.P’
‘The earning became substantial and the money flow was terrific sent a lot of money home and got my sisters married.Things were all well till before 2 years…’
‘Why ? what happened ‘
He again goes in silence and starts again with measured words.
‘once things were settled at home my father told me to stop sending money home and start saving for my own. I also did that and got a healthy bank balance.’

There were youths from my area who live in Bombay and started spending for them once in a while. It all started like that. U know Bombay… right ? slowly I got into vices. Vices of all sort and diagnosed with AIDS two years before and life changed dramatically. I was forced to leave dArAvi and with my left out savings I have taken a room in a chawl in Ulhasnagar where I live right now. I don’t play nAgaswaram any more.I don’t have the stamina. I want to go up (he waves his hands in the direction of the sky) as early as possible.

I become thoughtful and ask him,

‘what do you do for your food ?’

He smiles dryly.

“We were basically into 3 professions – medicine,hair dressing and mELam ( nAdaswaram & tavil).Since my grand father’s days we are not practicing medicine. Against my protests I was taught the art of hair dressing and now I do that nr.the Ulhasnagar station.I earn enough for the day in just 2-3 hrs and come here and lie under that tree (he shows a big tree).I am here almost night long and go to my room catching the last train.

My heart bleeds for him in pity. A spoiled son.

“how old r u now ?’

‘me…?difficult to guess..right ? 29 ..just 29’

He starts laughing ending in heavy coughing.

I know any advice given by me will go in the air. He has almost determined how his life should be.

“pl.don’t mistake me and accept this and I will be happy if U spend this for food or medicine’ I give him some money. He hesitates then slowly takes it from me.

We both observe silence immersed in our own thoughts.

‘the signal in green.Ur train will come now’ he says very friendly.

The train comes and I hop into the train and wave a good bye to him.

During my subsequent visits to my friends at Takurli I went in search for him at the tree spot but could never find him.

[Rsachi]

Real touching stories....truly humbling.
I didn't have a real-life AHA moment like this, but know a cinematic moment that left a deep impact: the Oscar winning Geoffrey Rush in Shine (1996) - based on a true story - is a traumatised maverick genius and he finds his life back from its nadir in this moment (You Tube clip below). A MUST-SEE FILM:


You Tube link: http://youtu.be/opdkbzfIh7s

[Nick H]

These are never-to-be-forgotten stories. Thank you both

[arasi]

Thanks, both of you.
What can I say?
Life is stranger than fiction and makes good fiction in turn?