As I listen to Rashid Khan sing Raama Mujhe, I cannot help recalling, with wistful longing, the winters in B’bay when the season of classical music concerts would kick off. Various festivals would begin. One of the oldest one is Janfest, conducted by IMG at Xaviers’ College.

Borrowing from an earlier blog on Sulekha…

St. Xavier’s College, Bombay hosts a music festival every year on its premises called Janfest. This festival runs on for 2-3 days and on the last day, the programme goes on all night long. Most often, the last performer who performs through the night is Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasia, the renowned flute exponent and he plays till dawn, 26h January that signifies the end of Janfest. My family used to attend the festival every year as far as possible. One year was especially tiring because the festival was going on through the week and all of us used to rush from school/college/office to Xavier’s and then attend the programme. It was an exhausting week and on the evening of 25th January, all of us were exhausted. Panditji started playing sometime middle of the night and I dozed off. I don’t recall much of what happened but I remember waking up to the sweetest melody I’ve heard. Raag Pahaadi was being played and it was nearly dawn. The quadrangle was cold and slightly misty and everyone seemed to be recovering from the night. Panditji played patiently and I recall that exact feeling: God, thank you for giving me this experience, the ability to taste this part of life, hear this divine piece of music in this magnificent place…

and

Another time, my parents and I had attended this concert by the famous vocalist, Kishori Amonkar. She is truly the diva of Hindustani classical music and has been honored with the title ‘Gaanasaraswati’. She is known to be a temperamental and fastidious performer. That particular day, she was late. The organizers of the show kept assuring us that she’d commence the performance soon but she didn’t make an appearance. Finally she took the stage after nearly an hour. She started singing ‘Babul Mora Naihar chhooto jaaye…’ K L Saigal has also sung this song in his distinctive style. That night in December, even in the not-so-chilly Bombay winter, in the open ground, Kishori Amonkar’s mellifluous voice and that song made a deep impact on me. It struck a hugely sentimental chord within. The plaintive note in her voice, the wistful longing, I was blown, really. A strange feeling welled up within and all I could capture was: Wow!

What wouldn’t I part with to attend a classical music concert?