Rehmaania

Recently, ‘The Mozart from Madras’ a.k.a. A.R.Rehmaan was in town for a concert. (Here ‘town’ stands for Pune, my hometown. Nowadays I’m living in Rehmaan’s hometown itself.) I was one of those fortunate thousands, who witnessed his live performance, on 31st May.

The concert was at the Balewadi stadium and was named as ‘Jai Ho.’ Quite straightforward and uncomplicated. (To be frank, this track is not there in my list of personal favorites. I find it somewhat soul-less. What you say? You are free to criticize me or to introduce me to the beauty of that song, my ears are still not able to discover. )

As soon as I entered the stadium, I felt some strange vibrancy in the air. The venue was totally charged up. There were people selling T-shirts depicting the Oscar doll with Rehmaan’s speech after he grabbed that one. (Something like…’I chose love and today I stand here’.)
Then there were some ‘dudes’ from ‘A.R Rehmaan fan club’. They had traveled all the way to Pune from various regions of the country to catch a glimpse of their icon.Each one of them was wearing that ‘Oscar doll + Rehmaan speech T-shirt’ and was carrying long curls like him.
Felt like watching 100 prototypes of A.R. in front of me.( Those were mere prototypes and not clones. You can not clone a genius like him.)

The huge stagecraft that was set for the event, was lifeless when we entered.The speakers were silent and the lights were yet to be turned on . However, through that inertness also I sensed that every single light, every single speaker and that gigantic stage is screaming at me ... Something really really big is in store for you this evening. Be Ready !

An hour went without any sign of the concert getting started. The audience was slowly shifting from boredom to irritation.Those dudes got desperate and started shouting.
However I found no reason to get annoyed.It was a pleasant May evening with amazing breeze; I had a nice seat with full view of the stage and a can of my favorite cold drink to complete a perfect moment.Perhaps first time in my life, I was enjoying the process of waiting for something.My wrist watch indicated 7.30pm.The stage was now looking midnight-black. All the halogens were still dead.

And then all of us heard one melodious tune. It was a Sitar. Just one sitar. In a fraction of second, there was pin - drop silence in stadium that was jam-packed with almost ten thousand people.
My brain received a dose of adrenaline from nowhere and started searching its database.
hey…which song is this….
who is playing….
why the stage is still dark….
But that mysterious sitar tune continued for a minute without answering any of those questions.
The music paused for a millisecond and unexpectedly the entire stage sparkled with a glittering blast,at the same time those huge halogens were turned on, the sitarist who was quite delicate with his instrument a moment ago suddenly turned in to a rockstar, Shivamani joined him with his drums like a wild beast and all those walls of speakers started thumping with their full potential.The same audience, that was bored, irritated and confused a minute ago was now dancing with all their energy reservoirs on the tunes of ‘Mousam & Escape’.

WOW… what a beginning!

Then ‘He’ arrived with his trademark shy , shoulder down posture.
'Jaage hai der tak hame ,kuch der to sone do'
In the climax of this song his voice actually touched the sky and compelled Punekars to give him a well deserved standing ovation.

The event was unfolding and we were losing ourselves. I do realize now that some of my excited reactions were attention grabbing and my voice rose many times beyond decibel levels that are normally accepted in public places.For two elderly aunties sitting near me, I was a live example of undisciplined new generation. I could read it through their eyes. One of them was constantly giving me ‘what-a-spoilt-kid’look and the other one was staring at me with ‘shut-up-and-sit-down’ look. I ignored both of them. I’m sorry, but you can not just sit down and watch when Marium Teller is performing Belly dance in front of you.And I was not alone. Except few people who could not relate with those songs, everyone was dancing,screaming, reacting weirdly or you can say enjoying fully!

After Marium who literally set the stage on fire, it was Suzzane’s turn to soothe the atmosphere with her olive oil voice. She created magic with ‘Dreams on Fire’.
Rashid Ali extended that romantic mood with ‘Kahi to Hogi Wo’.

We were already high but the heavenly experience was yet to come.
After Rashid’s performance, all the lights were switched off. After a gap of two long minutes the stage was illuminated with dark green light. The kind of light we usually see at mosques or dargahs.
Typical holy Islamic green color. Color of Allah.
To my surprise, the stage was totally clean this time, without any fancy , hi-tech musical instrument.
Is it over ?
Nope. It wasn’t.
Rehmaan appeared wearing one traditional black Sufi outfit with a white cap on head.
He sat down in the middle of the stage on a modest mat with single harmonium.
Again there was that same pin - drop silence, Again guessing started in our minds.
He closed his eyes for one full minute.
Too long pause for us.
Too much of suspense for us.
And then with all the feelings and devotion, he started...
‘Arziyaa saari main chehre pe likh ke laya hu.. tumse kya mangu main,tum khud hi samaz lo maula.’

According to me that was the highest point of that event.

Rehmaan and sufi music has always been a lethal combination.
Whether you like Rehmaan or not, you like music or not , you can not escape his sufi songs.
Most of his songs are like Vodka. It takes two or three listenings, then only we start feeling them from the core. But once they are absorbed in our bloodstream, their hangover persists for months.
And some songs pierce their way into our hearts the moment they strike our eardrums.
His sufi songs come under second category.

To be very specific….he made us meditate and introduced us to nirvana in those five minutes.

There are very few things in this world, when they are rubbed off against our hearts, we cross the borders of mere enjoyment and enter in to the lands of ecstasy. Music is one of them.
And when it comes to Rehmaan, this ecstasy becomes intense and turns into euphoria.

We danced like crazy, we shouted like maniacs, we got inspired, we felt romantic, we suffered the pain of losing someone, we experienced passion, we laughed our hearts out, we felt blessed, and we got connected with the almighty. All in two and half hours !

Thanks A.R…..and thanks Rahul who remembered me while booking the tickets.

Angles & Demons

I think, one of the biggest reasons why we should seek and crave for few serene moments in our daily hustle of life is, it is the serenity that helps us to extract all the angels and demons residing within us.
Serenity…a too mild expression perhaps! We sometimes really need what is called as the ‘dead silence’ to dig’em out from the bottom of the iceberg.

Being unfamiliar with our demons can be disastrous sometimes, but not being aware of our angels is a greater loss.

Then there is this particular thing about demons, that they can be neglected for a while but can not be avoided…they catch us unaware and attack us…..one after the other…..one after the other…a kind of chain reaction ! .

Some people never face any demons in their life….Some people face them but have no swords to fight with them…And there is this third ‘blessed’ category of people who face many demons but are provided with swords too… (First two types are truly ill-fated…)

Killing these demons is not that easy. Cause we generally tend to search them in some external event, person or a situation, only to realize in the end that we were battling the wrong enemy.

Ultimately when we cut all the junk, every situation in life is a choice.

To battle with these demons or to accept defeat before the battle is our choice.
Most of us start playing ‘victim’ even before the battle begins.
We get so overwhelmed by the demons that we forget to check out our swords.
We forget that we HAVE a sword.
We forget that we actually are a warrior, not a victim.

Just a shift of perspective from a victim to à WARRIOR and a battle transforms.
Try it.
Choose to be a warrior.

Because sometimes, the choice we make, becomes the story of our life.

Sufi

Radio Mirchi was playing the song ‘Tera Mera Rishta Purana’……
The song had some mystic sufi flavor that grabbed my attention.
‘Cool Song! ‘, I thought, ‘This dude must be really missing his girlfriend.’

Few days later, when I was sincerely performing my daily ritual of surfing all the 200 TV channels, I accidentally encountered with the video of the same song, which was being telecasted by some V or M TV…

To my surprise, the video didn’t show any guy sitting in some lounge with vodka in his hand crying for his lost lady-love.
The hero was standing in-front of one huge golden Buddha effigy with filled eyes and this song was being played in the background.

'Ohhhh…This one is dedicated to God and not to any girl'….

Hey, have you ever noticed some striking similarities between these two most important relationships in our life; i.e. the relationship with our beloved and the one with God.

You can have heart-to-heart talks with both of them…

You don’t need to wear any masks when you are with them..

You occasionally get angry with your beloved and say, “I will not talk to you. Enough is enough. You have not been listening to me”.
Same way, for few days, you drop praying completely. Because sometimes you go on praying and God never listens.

In both the cases, getting angry or even fighting indicates deep involvement.

Both relationships are like roller-coaster ride !
One day you are flying, other day you’re broken….

But that’s the sign of ALIVE relationship!

The year is at the spring
The day is at the morn
The morning is at seven
The hillside is dew- pearled
And all is right with the world.

Though Robert Browning has written these lines to portray one fresh spring morning in Paris, on that day, I was actually experiencing the sparkle in the poem at Mumbai.
There was one more variation in my case; the ‘dew-pearled hillside’ was replaced by lustrous sky-scrappers at Hiranandani Gardens, Powai.

On that day, I was assigned the duty of an escort for the chief-guest of the national seminar arranged by my B-school.
The job-profile of ‘an escort’ included many responsibilities like welcoming the guest with bouquet (why me for this job yaar….? when there were enough pretty girls in my class…), taking care of his breakfast-lunch on the way (the event was in Pune ) etc…But the most important task was to ensure that the driver from car agency arrives on time at the guest’s place with the car and the guest reaches on time at the venue of the event.

The chief-guest’s residence was at marvelous Hiranandani Gardens…and I was in the parking waiting for both of them to arrive (the driver and the guest…!)
9950…. I dialed driver’s number. He was supposed to be here at 7.30.
“Good morning sir…Sandeep Singh here from Aryan travel agency….”
I somehow noticed two unusual things during this conversation spanning 2 seconds.
First thing was driver’s fluent English and other was his polite tone.
And yaah…the guy must be above fifty….that I could make out from his voice.
‘Sandeepjee…its 7.25 .when are you coming? ‘
‘Don’t worry sir…I am reaching there in 5 mins..’
Meanwhile the guest SMSed me that he’ll be late by 15-20 mins..
At 7.30 sharp, one car arrived. One elderly sardar (must be around 55-60 ..My guess was perfect!) wearing spotless white uniform got down from the car with a broad smile on his face.
I asked him "Sandeep sing …? "
“Yes sir…I am Sandeep…"
I shook his hands.
“I hope I’m not late…”
“No Sandeepji…you are perfectly on time.”
Then there was some awkward silence for few minutes. He was first to break it.
“Sirjee , what do you do ?“
“ Sandeepji.. I said ..I am pursuing MBA from Pune and please don’t call me sir. I am just 23 year old, much younger than you. You can call me by my first name …Chinmay”
He was little amazed.
I continued “Where are you from ...How long have you been in Mumbai? "
“We are originally from Lahore,Sirjee (again Sirjee !). My father came to Mumbai at the time of partition. Since then we are ‘मुम्बईकर..”
मुम्बईकर ? Nice to hear marathi word from a sardar.
So I just took a chance " मग तुम्हाला मराठी येते का? (So can you speak Marathi?)“
He gave me one more broad & innocent smile ( in fact all sardars have innocent smile...) and said " हो...एकदम शुद्ध मराठी येते.... " ( Yes, I can speak quite fluently)
Wow, that was cool !

The guest was taking a bit long . But I was having a good chat with Sandeepsingh in various languages …...
And we were discussing many matters like Mumbai rains, bomb blasts, traffic jams, Raj Thakre etc.
Meanwhile ….I was bit hungry. I took out Hide & Seek for me and also offered him. He was little hesitant initially but reluctantly took some cookies when I insisted.

After some time, suddenly, I noticed some tears in his eyes. I said “ क्या हुआ सन्दीपजी? ..is everything fine ? “
"सरजी... एक बात बोलता हू…I am working as a driver for many top executives for last 20 years. But no one treated me, the way you are treating me now. You are treating me with respect. You are talking to me, you even offered me something to eat…that’s very rare…"
“I did nothing special Sandeepji”
“See …you are calling me Sandeep'ji’ …”
“Obviously …cause you are quite elder than me..”
"आप उम्र मे छोटे है..... आपने अभीतक दुनिया ही कहा देखी है? लोग driver के साथ इतनी अच्छी बाते नही करते…मै तो केहता हू कि …बात ही नही करते… बस खाने के लिये ५०-१०० रुपये हाथ मे थमा देते है…....People behave as if we don’t exist in the car or the car is being driven by some machine. You know sirjee..... Most of the guys never spoke a single word with me in the long journey of 8-10 hours.तो अभी जब आपने हम से इतनी बाते की ...तो हमे बहोत अच्छा लगा जी… "

Now I was speechless.

Actually, his emotional response was beyond my comprehension at that time.

What did I do? Why he was so touched by the acts which according to me were quite obvious?
Do we treat human beings based on their occupation, position in the society? I think Yes, that’s why old Sandeepsingh felt overwhelmed by my simple acts and shed tears on that morning…