Thought I would share this here...
http://www.dc-epaper.com//PUBLICATIONS/ ... tml?Mode=1

Full text here:
Nov 30, 2013
As a child growing up in a house filled with music lovers, the December season was like the World Cup, the Olympics and every grand slam event combined. From the early 1970s, upwards of ten of us would somehow cram into a Fiat wagon and sabha-hop our way through Mylapore and the "new" Mambalam. Us proud residents of West Mambalam could only refer to T. Nagar by its relative youth and not by its given name. These were well before the days when eating out was de rigeur for a tambrahm family; we made do with home-made puliyodarai and packed idlis between concerts.
Conversations on the drive back would center on topics including KVN's spectacular Poorvikalyani or MLV's heterodox dwi-nadai pallavi, to Lalgudi's amazing return of serve while accompanying Semmangudi, to Trichy Sankaran's tisra nadai variations during an explosive tani. While many of my contemporaries played book cricket, as a child of six I was so busy thinking of concert set lists, I would write up an imaginary schedule of my favourite artistes (with carefully chosen accompaniments) for the entire season. My parents were convinced that I would grow up to become a sabha secretary!
Sometimes we would give a ride back to Sambu mama at the end of a full day of concerts. How we managed to fit an eleventh person into the already overflowing car is still a wonder to me. We would have to periodically stop the car, so he could get rid of his mouthful of pugai-ilai stained betel leaves. Sambu mama was an amazing conversationalist and seemed to have his pulse on the music scene. He was aware of things even before they happened. On one of those trips, Sambu mama told us about this new boy from Madurai with an otherworldly voice. He told us that his sense of layam was so strong that even Mani Iyer agreed to accompany him. He was, of course, referring to the now legendary Madurai T.N. Seshagopalan.
Nostalgia is not new. On these rides, my father and Sambu mama would often reminisce about the 1940s and how they sat on the wall of the Kapali temple to listen to Madurai Mani Iyer. Much has changed in the music world since those days. After a period of self-doubt, Carnatic music has emerged very strongly in this era of the global musician. But despite all the apparent changes, the spirit of the music festival remains strong and resilient as ever.
In two short weeks, my family and I will be embarking on yet another cultural journey to the homeland with the express intention of attending as many concerts as possible at the December music season in Chennai. As the crow flies, it is about 9000 miles to Chennai from where I live presently. It will take me three airport changes and a possible overnight stay in another country before I get there. Listening to forty concerts and lec-dems in a fortnight is well worth this effort and more. But most of all, I really look forward to walking around Mylapore, the old and new Mambalam alike; if just to run into people like Sambu mama to find out what new Carnatic musicians he would like to turn us onto this season.
Ramesh Balasubramaniam is a Professor of Cognitive Neuroscience at the University of California and a Carnatic enthusiast. He is interested in how the brain processes music, especially rhythm. He can be reached at [email protected].

