From my town, alas…

If you grew up western-Indian-urban-Catholic it’s quite likely Indian classical only lapped at your musical shores.
Shakti and Zakir Hussain were as desi as it got for households where Cliff Richard and Elvis were the presiding soundtracks.
It was not till the age of 26, and not till my office moved to the Maharashtrian side of town in Pune that I was introduced to the likes of Pandit Bhimsen Joshi (died today) and Gangubai Hangal.
My bucket list, posted a year ago, had: “attend Sawai Gandharva to hear Pt Bhimsen”.
‘Alas’ - truly captures the regret.

Slow hand, blind genius

In my dying posts of 2010, I listed the great music acts left for me to see perform ‘live’.
That list stayed with me over the next couple of days and I discovered that there were more than 10 great acts that were left for me to see.
Then, in what can only be a serendipitous stroke of good fortune, two of the stars on that list – Eric Clapton and Stevie Wonder – were announced to play in my neck of the woods.
In my dark and cloudy life that is one hell of a silver lining.
Oh, happy days.

Sania - and the power of what could be

If my first post of the New Year is about Sania Mirza, it may well be that I have gotten over Barkha Dutt.
If the tennis world had a one-set tournament, Sania would win it.
She would be the World No 1 in the one-set category, because, that’s all she has in her – one set.
Against Justin Henin, no less, she reminded us of why news wires, no less, still find it worth dedicating an entire piece to her - a perennial first-round loser.
But, that one set was worth it. Just for the power of what could be.