A rug is rolled out on a humbly-sized stage. In the center sits a tabla, harmonium and microphone waiting for their masters. In walk three men dressed in traditional clothing.
Taking my seat in the concert hall on Friday evening, I had no idea what to expect. Before this concert, South Asian music was completely foreign to my ears, let alone North Indian music. In my defense, my specialty does not lie in the South, but in the East. And I won’t lie, I was attending the concert for extra marks for a class. But by the end of the first song, I was sincerely enjoying myself. The night transformed from an assignment into my personal entertainment, and I’m so very glad it did.
In my opinion, the words “passionate,” “enriching” and “intimate” sum up Friday’s concert quite accurately. First to perform was the young khayal vocalist prodigy, Akhil Jobanputra. His voice, timid and youthful, surprises your ears by being so incredibly soulful. At only 18 years of age, the story telling and passion that come from his mouth sound like they transcend his earthly being. The two songs he performed were enhanced by tabla accompanist, Sunny Matharu and harmonium player, Mohan Bhide. If you didn’t attend the concert, you might not understand the magic that seeped from the hall that night. But let me help you out by describing where I imagined I was transported to during Jobanputra’s set.
Envision a quiet courtyard in the middle of the day, everything sepia toned from the heat and suns’ rays. Waiting patiently, freshly brewed tea is set at your side. Your shirt begins to dampen with sweat. The audience is scarce and scattered around the yard. A young man enters, but instead of speaking a story, he sings a tale. He sings of women and their difficulties, troubles with relationships and complications. His songs quickly end and you’re left wanting more. You want to know more about those women and what happens to them next. But, your drink is finished. Tea leaves trace the bottom of your cup, the young man ducks through a doorway to escape the heat.
Exactly like a warm cup of tea, I was transported to that courtyard in North India during the first two songs. Although knowledge of the language would have been helpful in understanding, it was not necessary to feel the emotion of the music. Before starting, Akhil Jobanputra gave a lightly comedic description of the story behind the renditions of the songs he would perform. It helped to explain the feelings you should have during the set. Listening to the music, like sipping my tea, warmed my insides and filled me with dreamy inspiration. When intermission rolled in, I found myself hoping Akhil Jobanputra would perform the second half as well, or at least grace the audience with an encore.
The second set of performances was by sarod player, Rajeev Taranath, and Abhiman Kaushal, tabla accompanist. In contrast with Jobanputra, Taranath is a highly experienced performer and expectations for a magical performance similar to Jobanputra’s did not go unfulfilled.
Instead of a destination, I was taken on an emotional journey. Amid dimmed lights, Taranath began to play slow, calming sounds from his sarod. I imagined settling into bed, winding down by listening to music appropriate to end the concert, the day, and the work week. I thought his music would set a background for the dreams I could have that night. I was wrong. The second song Taranath performed was lively and strong. The beats from the tabla, fast and loud. Comparable to the climax of a novel, I was shocked from my lulled state. The feeling I had going into the first half of Taranath’s performance was significantly changed by the second half. I was definitely awake and ready for more. When the concert ended, a standing ovation took place, many thanks were expressed, and swag bags were dispersed. Then, Indian food was waiting for the audience outside. The fragrant samosas were definitely a highlight, but so were both of the incredible performances.
Unfortunately, there was a small disappointment that I felt impacted the success of the night – the lack of audience turnout. I had expected more because of the cause that the concert was supporting. All proceeds from ticket sales went to CORE International and the Nepali Heritage Charity Foundation of BC. As explained at the beginning of the concert, these organizations are making real differences to help people in Nepal. They’re both working towards a very important goal, to help our earthly brothers and sisters with their needs, and I had expectations for more supporters.
Overall, the experience was an enlightening journey that took my imagination to places it hadn’t ever ventured. I went home that evening with a deeper respect and interest for the South Asian arts. I left feeling more cultured than I have in my entire time at UBC! Would I explore my newfound interest in my own time? Yes, I should. If given the opportunity, would I attend another South Asian concert? Double yes, I would. The genre of Classical Indian music is one that I’ve never dared to explore, but I can confidently say it is now something I enjoy. If you’re like me, and you’ve never gravitated towards South Asian music, find a chance to broaden your horizons. You definitely won’t regret it, and it wouldn’t hurt if it was for a good cause.