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The Harmonium -- A Non-cooperative Bellow

Discussion in 'Snippets of Life (Non-Fiction)' started by ojaantrik, Sep 20, 2010.

  1. ojaantrik

    ojaantrik IL Hall of Fame

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    [Continued from The Harmonium -- A Prelude]

    His vocal chords reminded me of a freshly opened bottle of honey as did the hue of the burnish that glistened on the harmonium. The reeds were an immaculate white and the slider knob for changing scales shone like freshly polished silver. Even at that tender age, my whole being reverberated to the tune as my eyes remained riveted on the beautiful instrument.

    I carried the scene back home with me. No cricket bats for me, no football boots either. No pretty girls. There was only one thing that I was dying to possess. A harmonium alone, like the one I had seen but didn't have the courage to even touch.

    "Ma, will you buy me a harmonium please?" I implored when an opportunity presented itself.

    She was shocked and stared at me in disbelief. "Do you know how much we had to spend on your school books this year? Books that you neglect and fail in every exam! And what, may I know, do you want to have a harmonium for? To turn into a street singer and beg for a living? Get lost, will you?"

    She was livid with anger I could see. She was almost in tears. And I couldn't blame her, for my academic performance at school was the talk of the town. The poor woman had enough to worry about.

    I did get lost for a while as advised, but the thought of a harmonium didn't lose me. I slept harmoniums, I dreamt harmoniums, I lived harmoniums. My life was incomplete, as incomplete as a sea beach without the sea, a moon without the shine, a cup of tea made without tea leaves. I ruminated day and night over the matter therefore and discovered an alternative strategy, one that could possibly appeal to my mother.

    "Will you send me to a music school Ma," asked I one morning as I sat down with my books. Books I had no intention of reading, needless to say. The music schools, I argued somewhat unconvincingly to myself would surely be equipped with harmoniums and with some luck, I might even get to play them once in a while.

    I kept staring at her with the same pathetic look that dogs display at the sight of biscuits. My mother's heart, I think, melted somewhat this time. She looked out of the window, lost in thought, and then finally turned her face towards me. I thought I saw signs of an impending thaw and waited in suppressed animation for her verdict. What she came out with though shattered any semblance of a hope that I might have entertained.

    "All parents love their children. They want to give everything that a child desires. But the child must also learn to understand his parents' constraints. He should never ask for something he knows his parents cannot afford. If he does, it hurts them a lot you know."

    I admit that I saw her irrefutable logic. I even felt for her, probably more than I felt for myself. The result was that I kept away from music for several years that day onwards. My father did purchase a record player when our circumstances improved somewhat, but I was finishing college by then. My love for music had not left me of course, but I had pretty much forgotten about the harmonium. Things like a career had begun to matter more and there was hardly any time to chase harmoniums.

    Life followed then onwards its inevitable twists and turns. To cut down on the details, let's move several years forward. I had by now set up household in Delhi. I had a wife and a child, but for reasons I cannot discuss, my financial circumstances were no better than that of my parents when I had asked them to buy me a harmonium. However, deep down inside me, the desire must have persisted.

    My wife was a reasonably good singer and quite near our home a new music school had come up. The teacher was from Orissa and he had arrived in Delhi in search of a living. His fees were nominal and my wife and I decided she at least could continue to sing under this teacher's guidance.

    What stood in the way though was once again a harmonium! Mr. Sahoo, that was his name, told my wife that she needed to practise at home on a harmonium. A harmonium that was conspicuous by its absence at our small rented apartment.

    This time though, I had the independence to decide and I went ahead with my Mission Impossible. I located a music shop owned by a Sardarji in the Daryaganj area and landed there in the company of a colleague at office who was an accomplished sarodist. It was around the mid-seventies I believe. Prices hadn't reached where they have reached today. But an Associate Professor at the Indian Statistical Institute probably earned no more than a 1,000 rupees a month. Of this, Rs. 400 went towards house rent. The balance allowed us to survive, but hardly permitted the luxury of a harmonium.

    The S.D. Burman class harmonium sat in the shop and winked at me. The Sardarji knew from the way I was dressed that I wouldn't be asking about fancy stuff. He brought out the cheapest one he had in his store. I cannot recall the price, but I am almost certain that it didn't exceed Rs. 500 or so. Close to half my total saving at that stage of life.

    I understood little about harmoniums, but soon after we reached home in the colleague's car, I realized that you needed the services of a Dara Singh to operate the bellow. I didn't know during those days, as I do now, that the sign of an acceptable harmonium was a soft bellow. You need no more than touch it very lightly for it to open or close.

    My wife did not complain though and the music lessons continued till Mr. Sahoo vanished in search of greener pastures. We, on the other hand, were stuck with a harmonium that no one had any use for. I did try to play it on my own once in a while, but having had no training whatsoever, the harmonium dream did not exactly gleam.

    And, in any case, I lacked the muscle power to fight the bellow of our harmonium.

    [To continue]
     
    Last edited: Sep 20, 2010
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  2. sundarusha

    sundarusha Gold IL'ite

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    My life was incomplete, as incomplete as a sea beach without the sea, a moon without the shine, a cup of tea made without tea leaves

    I kept staring at her with the same pathetic look that dogs display at the sight of biscuits

    I loved these impressive words showing how much you yearned for the harmonium.
     
  3. ojaantrik

    ojaantrik IL Hall of Fame

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    Thank you Sundarusha. I appreciate your picking out the right lines.

    oj-da
     
  4. Kamalji

    Kamalji IL Hall of Fame

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    Dear OJ,

    Yes to spend half yur salary on an harmonium must be something. I knwo nothing about them, so i can say much.But very touching .

    Regards

    kamal
     
  5. ojaantrik

    ojaantrik IL Hall of Fame

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    Dear Kamal:

    Like the sensex, life too has its ups and downs. I have truly experienced it. As Eliot had written:

    In a minute there is time
    For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

    oj
     
  6. Raba

    Raba Gold IL'ite

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    Dear Oj da,

    "All parents love their children. They want to give everything that a child desires. But the child must also learn to understand his parents' constraints. He should never ask for something he knows his parents cannot afford. If he does, it hurts them a lot you know."

    Your mom handled you very well. She said a great truth , very simply.
     
  7. ojaantrik

    ojaantrik IL Hall of Fame

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    Dear Raba:

    I have responded at the very end.

    oj-da
     

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