N. Ramani: An ode to my guru
I lost my teacher, Ramani Sir on the afternoon of 9 October 2015 and found myself, by the evening, in a whirlpool of reminiscences.
The traffic jam – a Bangalore special – had been particularly bad on the day I first met him. I was on a bus whose driver seemed averse to the idea of movement. I was already late, and decided to jump out and run the rest of the distance. I reached my destination a little late.
When I entered the house, without warning, I saw him. Shirtless, in a white veshti, with a towel in his hand, peering at me searchingly with his big eyes, he asked, “Yes?” One does not expect to come face-to-face with a celebrity this easily. I had grown up listening to his music, I had seen those very eyes peer at me through innumerable cassettes and CDs around my house. One CD, in which he had played a short Bilahari alapana, hardly four minutes long, scared me when I first heard it. I had not even started playing the flute then, but that recording always brought this question to my mind: Will I ever reach this Everest of achievement?
Click here to read more ...