Having had a year of voice training when I was young, I can honestly say that anyone who is seriously interested in studying voice should spend some time in India studying classical Indian music with a private teacher. The exercises alone are worth learning. The exercises, strictly practiced in a particular raga (scale) give the voice incredible flexibility and exactness with regard to intervals - and very unusual intervals as well. In a given lesson, we start with exercises to warm the voice - excercises that combine the enunciation of syllables for each tone that do NOT all end in the same vowel sound, thus requiring greater flexibility of tongue - and concentration, with the exact pure, tonal quality of the note, with a complex (for me) 8 beat rhytmic pattern with the hands. Each excercise is practiced in whole tone, quarter tone, half note, and 16th note time, with the goal begin perfect ennunciation, rhythm, and pitch. That's to warm up. Then, there is a time of open improvisation by following the improvisation of the teacdher. The teacher will guide the student around the raga, using expression, and will also extend the range into the highest levels and lowest levels the voice can reach. Always, always the teacher follows the aptitude of the student. It is intense and fascinating and the growth is exponetial. Then, the student tries to improvise, always staying within the raga. Other lessons ensue, with practice exercises to study afterwards. Tonight, I was given a book of poetry and am to compose a raga using the words from one of the poems. The book he gave me is called Birdsong and the poems are by Rumi:
Some examples:
Let your throat-song
be clear and strong enough
to make an emperor fall full-length
suppliant, at the door.
***
Would you like to have revealed to you
the truth of the Friend?
Leave the rind,
and descdent into the pith.
Fold within fold, the Beloved
drowns in this own being. This world
is drenched with that drowing.
***
Rain fell on one man,
he ran into the house.
But the swan spread its winds and said,
"Pour more on me of that power
I was fashioned from."
***
Someone who does not run
toward teh allure of love
walks a road where nothin
lives. But this dove here
senses the love-hawk floating
avove, and waits, and will not
be driven or scared to safety.
***
I want to be where
your bare foot walks,
Because maybe before you step,
you'll look at the ground.
I want that blessing.
***
This is how I would die
into the love I have for you.
as pieces of cloud
dissolve in sunlight.
And so the lessons continue - lessons of the heart and of the voice. One does learn pieces, and there are some famous ones, but unlike western pedagogy, it is not about learning a piece, it is about making music.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Ayurvedic Medicine: Brief overview and first lesson
Ayurvedic Medicine
Lesson 1
Ayurvedic medicine is the traditional medicine that has been practiced in India for over 1000 years. It is not just “herbal folk medicine”. It is a highly developed, systemized, and researched approach to medicine that has been patronized by kings, studied, and documented over many, many generations.
The knowledge gained through the research of Ayurveda was originally passed down from teacher to student through the memorization of information as well as practical experience. Our teacher here comes from a family of Ayurvedic doctors and his family home includes a garden that grows some of the remedies and herbs required for Ayurvedic treatment. As an traditional Ayurvedic doctor, one is involved not only in the diagnosis and treatment of patients, but also in growing, gathering, and preparing medicines so that the medicines have their optimal medicinal value. Each plant must be harvested at the optimal time and prepared in specific ways using specific parts of the plant (or mineral). Sometimes, different methods are used to extract the medicinal properties, as different extraction methods will bring out different medicinal properties in the plant and can be more effective in treating different illnesses. As you can see, the science of Ayurveda is very exact … and vast. Besides herbal treatment, Ayurveda also has surgical procedures. The texts on surgical treatments also go back for 1000 years and include surgical instruments and procedures for many, many procedures. In teaching students in ancient times, the texts (of which there are 3 main texts from which they draw and several minor ones) were passed on orally and were written in verse, rhyming and rhythmic verses (slokas) that made it easier to remember the large amount of critical information. Mastery meant perfection of understanding. It was, and is – if properly taught – a demanding subject.
Ayur means life. Veda means knowledge. So Ayurveda means “the knowledge of life (physical and philosophical) from birth to death. The first objective of Ayurveda is Preventive, or Protecting from Disease. Thus, a doctor is on hand to guide a patient in healthy living practices which, if followed exactly, will lead to perfect health and the accomplishment of a person’s Aim in life. The second objective of Ayurveda is to the treatment of a patient who is getting a disease. The ideal, as in all medical practice, is to start treatment in the early stages of disease and before the disease is well established.
Ayurvedic medicine is a wholistic kind of medicine that treats the whole person. It understands the connection between the body, the environment, the mind, the intellect, and the spirit and works to create a balance. Also, Ayurvedic medicine has intensely studied how different kinds of people react to medicines differently, and have documented the correlation between specific human types and optimum medicines for their type. They have also studied, in detail, how certain human types tend to have similar medical conditions or weaknesses. Thus, determining the characteristics of a patient will help lead to more effective treatment. I was speaking with a research doctor in Indianapolis last year, and this is the cutting edge research of present day western medicine (allopathy). They are only now researching the correlation between human types and how medicines effect them, with statistically significant results. The research in Indianapolis focuses on racial differences. Ayuveda focus more on temperaments and general physical types.
For our ease and understanding, the doctor compared the point of view of Ayurveda’s approach to health to a car. He explained that a car:
1. is made of specific elements, such as steel, rubber, plastic, leather
2. has specific parts
3. requires fuel
4. is designed for a specific use/need
5. requires routine service (oil change …) to keep it functioning optimally
6. occasionally requires repair
The correlation to medicine is as follows:
1. All things are made of 5 elements (panchmaha bhoota): earth, fire, water, air,
vacuum. These 5 elements combine to create 3 basic energies or
tendencies in all things. These basic tendencies or energies are
classified, for Ayurvedic purposes as vata, pitha, or kapha (to be
explained later).
2. The main parts of the human are 4: the body (sharida),the sense organs
(indriya), the mind (subtwa), and the soul which drives everything else
(atma). (Ayurveda does not separate these into different and autonomous
fields such as anatomy, psychology, and spirituality.)
3. The fuel is food, water, and oxygen – all three must be considered for well
being.
4. The use of the body is its ultimate aim and purpose in life. For this, the daily
and seasonal routines change and are determined by the person’s individual aims and tendencies.
5. Requires certain routine procedures for safety and comfort (cleansing,
movement…)
6. May need some treatments or surgery if it is out of balance (diseased).
Tied to Ayurveda is a strong belief in the soul’s eternity, and that the choices and habits of this life will directly affect what will happen in the next one. Thus, well being is not only for this life.
We then began a superficial study of the qualities of the 5 elements individually. Understanding the qualities of the elements will help one to understand what effect they will have on the body; different herbs and minerals have different elemental qualities. For example, cayenne is warming (very). So is ginger. Mint is stimulating. Cranesbill root is drying (very). (These are medicines from my herbal knowledge.)
Earth: heavy, rough, hard, slow acting, stable, has a definite shape, large.
The sense organ associated with earth is smell – earthy things have a distinct
(sometimes unpleasant) smell.
Water: liquid/flowing, oily, cold, slow acting, smooth, sticky, turbid (cloudy), heavy
The sense organ associated with water is taste.
Fire: Hot, stimulating effect (which is why Indian food is spicy, as hot things stimulate
the appetite), minute (small), not oily/dry, rough
The sense organ associated with fire is the eye/vision
Air: Light (not heavy), cold (usually), dry, rough, very minute (small), invisible
The sense asscociated with air is touch. One knows of the presence of air by
feeling its movement.
Vacuum: smooth, light (not heavy), minute (small), stimulant – and acts very rapidly. As
a medicine, it will begin to act in the mouth and does not require digestion to be
effective, clear/transparent, unknown taste (like water, tasteless).
The sense organ here is the ear, hearing. One could not hear with out the vacuum,
Then, there was the discussion of the three main energies:
Vata = air + water
Pitha = fire + water
Kapha = earth + water
Ideally, a person should be have a balance of all three energies, thus of all the elements. If something is out of balance, there is too much/too little of a certain energy or element.
The first task of an Ayurvedic doctor is to determine what elements/energies predominate in a patient, then to use daily routine, nutrition, exercise, habits, and, if necessary, treatment to restore perfect balance. Many people are a combination of two of these energies, with a low amount of a third. Some people are predominantly one energy – these are ones that are most out of balance and have the most illnesses and weaknesses.
We only went into the explanations of the 3 energies very generally so far.
Vata: the energy necessary for movement and the rhythms of the body,
both voluntary and involuntary, mental balance, neurology, the senses.
A person who is too strongly vata will be tall, thing, rough complexion,
doesn’t make good, consequential decisions, can be unstable, worries, has
concerns, nervous. Often, there is not a normal weight to length
proportion, are undernourished, veins show, have darker complexions, less
body hair, and sunken eyes. (action of air and vacuum). It is the energy
most associated with old age., though athletes are often strongly vata.
Vata types tend to understand things quickly, but also tend to forget them
quickly.
Pitha: the energy necessary for a lustrous complexion and color, for digestions,
And for a normal body temperature (fire and water). A person who is too
strongly pitha is always angry and volatile. They have excellent digestion and color, but tend to be violent in character. It is the energy most associated with youth (optimal conditions).
Kahpa: the energy necessary for anabolism and constructive work in the body.
A person who is too strongly kapha tends to be lethargic, choosing and
Extremely sedentary lifestyle. They tend to have good dexterity and
above average bodily strength/health. It is the energy most associated with babies (growing). Kapha types tend to take a long time learning something, but once they know it, they will always remember it.
The last point covered was Body Concepts in Ayurveda, which is a spiritual AND physical structure. Ayurveda considers the human to have 5 layers or sheaths, each becoming more subtle and one inside the other, like a series of concentric circles.
1. External structure – all that is visible. It is strongly associated with food. Food
builds these structures. It is built from what we take in and will disintegrate when
we die.
2. Vital air sheath – the air that gets inside and permeates the entire body
instantly. Without air, gangrene sets in.
3. Mental sheath – this is more the mental part that has doubts, likes, affinities
4. Intellectual sheath – decision making/objectivity
5. the Blissful sheath, described as a deep sleep state of consciousness. He also
compared it to hypnosis where one’s mind, in leaving the present moment, can remember minute things from one’s past. One is asleep, and yet, even more, awake. (I am black, but beautiful.)
ALSO ( and interestingly), the times of the days when vata is most present is between 2-6 AM and PM. In other words, if one is in a balanced state, this is the optimum time for mental activity, prayer, yoga ESPECIALLY the morning time.
The time when pitha is most strongly present is from 12-2 AM and PM, and for kapha is 6-10 AM and PM.
Which then brought up a conversation about sleep, especially if one rises at 3:00 AM.
If one is of a positive, light mind/temperament (sattva), the optimal amount of sleep each night is 4 hours (assuming you are a healthy/balanced person).
If one has a fiery temperament (rajas), one requires 6 hours sleep. If you have less, there will be a tendency to become less stable and hyperactive.
If one has a passive, possibly unstable temperament (tamas), one require 8 hours of sleep to maintain optimal health.
SO… one has a temperament with which one must live, but within that temperament, one can achieve a balance and achieve one’s Aim.
A student asked the teacher if he, personally, could adhere to the daily requirements that would allow a perfect balance, and his honest response was, “No”, because of his occupation. He said there is a sloka (verse) that tells Ayurvedic doctors to avoid treating public servants (in the days of kings) and priests. That is because their occupation requires them to be active at specific times, which may/will conflict with optimal health practices. Thus, the remedies will be less effective and the princes/priests will say it doesn’t work and give the doctor a bad reputation. He said this with a touch of humor … but in all seriousness.
Which makes me think how often people disregard the efficacy of some practices, medicines, and treatments when, in fact, they did not properly and completely follow the recommendations. This must be a frustration for all doctors (the patient who doesn’t take their medicine, etc.).
The conclusion I made from this lesson is that Ayurveda is a vast and detailed science and to truly be an Ayurvedic doctor requires much more that a study of herbs and body parts. If one is looking for an Ayurvedic doctor in America, one must truly consider the person’s background and experience. Otherwise, you will only be partially (and probably not very effectively) treated. However, because this science is so exact, detailing medicines to individual body types and natures, I can imagine that it would be extremely, even “miraculously” effective. This is something I have seen, both in this medical world as in Chinese and American Indian healing. Chinese medicine is also very, very thorough and exact, a science researched and documented under several dynasties. There was also recorded collaboration between Indian, Chinese, and ancient Greek doctors – much of which hasn’t been translated! (Wouldn’t that be a fun doctoral thesis!) American Indian wisdom was passed down orally and much has been lost, though the efficacy of the treatments I have seen have been astonishing, seemingly “impossible”.
At this point, our days will be much the same. I will be taking detailed notes on Ayurvedic medicine. I have just finished the second lecture and am increasingly impressed by the vastness and detail of our teacher’s knowledge. For those of you interested in Ayurveda, I will be happy to give you a copy of my notes – which are copious. If you would like the lectures “hot off the press”, send me a note through email and I can send you my copy of the lectures as they become available.
Eleanor and I are both enjoying the mix of study and the extremely engaging, interesting, varied, and intelligent students that are here. Already, the level of conversation and meeting of minds is stimulating, collaborative, and supportive. I’ll post again if there is an interesting topic to relate. We are also available through email!!
Linda: Back to School, Feb. 22
Back to School!
So … after many, many years, I am back in school. Yes, I have taken many courses over the past 30 years (at least 25), but they were all related to my profession, to my area of strength and expertise. Here, it’s new territory.
Now, however, there is the wonderful freedom of age. I have nothing to “prove”, nothing to become. I am here for the sheer joy of learning, for the insights it will bring, for the horizons it will expand, for the joy of learning with someone who loves what they are doing.
The Center here in Kerela is unusual for India. It is the outcome of the love for the India and her culture by a French woman, Laaba, who has made India her home and her heart. The center has been organizing courses for over 32 years. Typically, courses in art, music, dance, theater, etc. are given from master to student over many years with students live with other students in the company of the teacher/teachers. This was not a possibility for us. The Vjnana Kala Vedi Cultural Center (www.vjnanakalavedi.org) is organized so that one can study a given subject, individually, with an expert Indian teacher for as long as one likes. There are at least 16 different classes offered – a difficult choice to make, I might add.
The Center is geared toward accommodating Western students WITHOUT BEING WESTERN. Everyone here is gracious and helpful … the traditional Indian food, served on a banana leaf, is absolutely delicious. The accommodations are comfortable and spacious and clean. Students are encouraged to wear traditional Indian clothing (tunic and trousers) and, absolutely, have to be covered and respectful in their dress. The tone is serious and open: no drinking, no relationships, care taken with interactions with the local population, propriety in manner, attitude, and dress. One is here to learn; all else waits, all is in the learning. It is as it would be in any ashram, whether religious or educational. The attitude between student and teacher is serious and total: a bond.
Presently, my schedule is a combination of music, physical activity, and intellectual pursuits:
Group yoga lesson from 7:30 -8:30
Breakfast – 7:30-8:00.
Private lessons in Karnatic singing from 10:00-11:00.
Lunch from 1:00-2:00,
Lectures and preparing medicines on Ayurvedic medicine from 1:45-3:45.
Tea from 4:00-5:00.
From 5:30-6:30, it’s back to martial arts training with the rigorous martial arts
peculiar to Kerela (and described earlier when we journeyed to Kumily and the
Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary).
Dinner from 7:30-8:00.
Studying, typing, collating notes, collaboration with students in all of the in
-between times.
Wonderful, is it not??
Today, I will meet my teachers. Tradition requires that the student give the teacher a gift, a small gesture indicating their desire for learning what the teacher knows. In this case, an auspicious gift is a betyl leaf and nut with 1 rupee (about ½ cent). I might add that with the gift to the teacher comes the gift of the heart from the student, a promise that they will listen and do their very best, conforming to the teacher’s expertise and advice in the quest for knowledge and perfection. When the teacher accepts the gift, they accept the student. It is with the promise that they will depart all their knowledge, holding nothing back. They will guide the student in a subject. And because the courses are traditional and steeped in scripture, symbolism, and history, they can impart much, much more than facts and skills. It is an education: of the mind, of the body, of the spirit, of the soul. It is total and without bounds, perfectly individual and absolutely tailored to the gifts and limitations of the student. It is … absolutely challenging, and wonderful – and I write this after having had my first lesson.
My morning lesson is a private lesson on singing Karnatic (South Indian) music, a music that is “highly audible and acceptable to the ear”. Though I enjoy singing and had some lessons in western singing when I was 18, I have enough understanding of Indian music to know that I was entering an entirely different – and very precise and demanding – world. I was a little nervous, but was mostly extremely excited. I won’t be “good” at this, but I will learn so much. One hour of private tutelage, every day, for a month. My teacher, Santhosh, is extremely gifted and has performed all over India. His English is exceptional and he is able to convey the music, the theory, the history, the mythology, and the symbolism of the teachings with feeling and exactness – and, in the right amount and at the right time. This, is a true teacher, for this is an extremely difficult thing to do.
Our lesson started with an introduction to the Indian “notes”, similar to our do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do. In this case it is sa, ri, ga, ma, pa ,da, ni, sa. Now, where we have a major scale and a few variations of a minor scale, Karnatic music has 72 different “complete” scales, or ragas. A raga is a constellation of notes upon which the artist can improvise. A complete raga is one in which the ascending and descending scale is the same. By inference, I am assuming that there are countless varieties where the ascending and descending raga (scale) could be different – but nonetheless exact.
In Indian music, the raga (scale) is central. There are no accidentals. There is precision in improvisation. In addition to the scale, there is the rhythm (talam). In practicing a raga, one also practices using a specific rhythm. My first exercises were in an 8 beat rhythm (aritalam), using the hands in a specific way to count the 8 beats. In this case, the hand counted: palm down, finger, finger, finger, palm down, palm up, palm down, palm up. The palm down tones are the stable tones, similar to the tonic and fifth in western music. In my lesson, we practiced the raga, up and down, using the basic rhythm but repeating it at a half note, quarter note, eighth note, and 16th note pace (I found the last quite difficult). Then, I repeated some of his improvisations, the “followed” his improvisations simultaneously. He also introduced using an “ah” and “ee” vocalization, which, at first, I thought was like western exercises. It is not. The ah and ee sounds are quite precise, almost like tonguing on a clarinet or trumpet. No vibrato – absolute pure, perfect, on pitch tones. This … is a challenge! Though not ideal, vibrato can cover a multitude of pitch inaccuracies. There is a tremolo in Indian music, but this is NOT a vibrato. A tremolo goes very specifically between two tones (half tones or even quarter tones).
Besides the lessons in theory and practice, our time was interspersed with stories and attitudes. On the wall was a small picture of Sarasvati, the goddess of music and consort of Brahma. Sarasvati is always depicted with a veena (large, stringed instrument – very beautiful and a very old instrument). Sarasvati, it is said, is very big. She sits, however, on a white lotus. How, my teacher asks, is it possible for her to sit on the lotus without bending its stem? It is because she has no weight. Weight is symbolic for arrogance. Sarasvati has no arrogance and is humble to everyone. And so is the artist. There can be no arrogance in any art form.
I was also told the definition of guru: gu means darkness and ru means one who disperses the darkness. So the guru is responsible for guiding the student to the way of light. 5000 years ago, when the students lived with the teacher, the sciences were taught through verse. The verses were an aid for remembering the details of the instruction, much in the way that it is easier to learn a rhyme than a sentence. The oldest verse was on one tone with a variety of rhythm. Later verses added the tones just above and below the first, and then the others were added over the years. Santhosh also related the theory that some (many, all) of the ragas came from nature. He told a story of when, once, he sat in nature on the banks of the river in his native Kerela. It was after the harvest and there were many birds migrating. As he sat, he heard two birds, both unfamiliar. One sang a short 3 note melody; the other answered in a two note, slower one. Back and forth, back and forth. It was the raga we were studying. For him, it was a revelation, and one could see him reliving that moment as he told the story.
And so, the hour fled, and I am left to ponder … and to practice.
So … after many, many years, I am back in school. Yes, I have taken many courses over the past 30 years (at least 25), but they were all related to my profession, to my area of strength and expertise. Here, it’s new territory.
Now, however, there is the wonderful freedom of age. I have nothing to “prove”, nothing to become. I am here for the sheer joy of learning, for the insights it will bring, for the horizons it will expand, for the joy of learning with someone who loves what they are doing.
The Center here in Kerela is unusual for India. It is the outcome of the love for the India and her culture by a French woman, Laaba, who has made India her home and her heart. The center has been organizing courses for over 32 years. Typically, courses in art, music, dance, theater, etc. are given from master to student over many years with students live with other students in the company of the teacher/teachers. This was not a possibility for us. The Vjnana Kala Vedi Cultural Center (www.vjnanakalavedi.org) is organized so that one can study a given subject, individually, with an expert Indian teacher for as long as one likes. There are at least 16 different classes offered – a difficult choice to make, I might add.
The Center is geared toward accommodating Western students WITHOUT BEING WESTERN. Everyone here is gracious and helpful … the traditional Indian food, served on a banana leaf, is absolutely delicious. The accommodations are comfortable and spacious and clean. Students are encouraged to wear traditional Indian clothing (tunic and trousers) and, absolutely, have to be covered and respectful in their dress. The tone is serious and open: no drinking, no relationships, care taken with interactions with the local population, propriety in manner, attitude, and dress. One is here to learn; all else waits, all is in the learning. It is as it would be in any ashram, whether religious or educational. The attitude between student and teacher is serious and total: a bond.
Presently, my schedule is a combination of music, physical activity, and intellectual pursuits:
Group yoga lesson from 7:30 -8:30
Breakfast – 7:30-8:00.
Private lessons in Karnatic singing from 10:00-11:00.
Lunch from 1:00-2:00,
Lectures and preparing medicines on Ayurvedic medicine from 1:45-3:45.
Tea from 4:00-5:00.
From 5:30-6:30, it’s back to martial arts training with the rigorous martial arts
peculiar to Kerela (and described earlier when we journeyed to Kumily and the
Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary).
Dinner from 7:30-8:00.
Studying, typing, collating notes, collaboration with students in all of the in
-between times.
Wonderful, is it not??
Today, I will meet my teachers. Tradition requires that the student give the teacher a gift, a small gesture indicating their desire for learning what the teacher knows. In this case, an auspicious gift is a betyl leaf and nut with 1 rupee (about ½ cent). I might add that with the gift to the teacher comes the gift of the heart from the student, a promise that they will listen and do their very best, conforming to the teacher’s expertise and advice in the quest for knowledge and perfection. When the teacher accepts the gift, they accept the student. It is with the promise that they will depart all their knowledge, holding nothing back. They will guide the student in a subject. And because the courses are traditional and steeped in scripture, symbolism, and history, they can impart much, much more than facts and skills. It is an education: of the mind, of the body, of the spirit, of the soul. It is total and without bounds, perfectly individual and absolutely tailored to the gifts and limitations of the student. It is … absolutely challenging, and wonderful – and I write this after having had my first lesson.
My morning lesson is a private lesson on singing Karnatic (South Indian) music, a music that is “highly audible and acceptable to the ear”. Though I enjoy singing and had some lessons in western singing when I was 18, I have enough understanding of Indian music to know that I was entering an entirely different – and very precise and demanding – world. I was a little nervous, but was mostly extremely excited. I won’t be “good” at this, but I will learn so much. One hour of private tutelage, every day, for a month. My teacher, Santhosh, is extremely gifted and has performed all over India. His English is exceptional and he is able to convey the music, the theory, the history, the mythology, and the symbolism of the teachings with feeling and exactness – and, in the right amount and at the right time. This, is a true teacher, for this is an extremely difficult thing to do.
Our lesson started with an introduction to the Indian “notes”, similar to our do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do. In this case it is sa, ri, ga, ma, pa ,da, ni, sa. Now, where we have a major scale and a few variations of a minor scale, Karnatic music has 72 different “complete” scales, or ragas. A raga is a constellation of notes upon which the artist can improvise. A complete raga is one in which the ascending and descending scale is the same. By inference, I am assuming that there are countless varieties where the ascending and descending raga (scale) could be different – but nonetheless exact.
In Indian music, the raga (scale) is central. There are no accidentals. There is precision in improvisation. In addition to the scale, there is the rhythm (talam). In practicing a raga, one also practices using a specific rhythm. My first exercises were in an 8 beat rhythm (aritalam), using the hands in a specific way to count the 8 beats. In this case, the hand counted: palm down, finger, finger, finger, palm down, palm up, palm down, palm up. The palm down tones are the stable tones, similar to the tonic and fifth in western music. In my lesson, we practiced the raga, up and down, using the basic rhythm but repeating it at a half note, quarter note, eighth note, and 16th note pace (I found the last quite difficult). Then, I repeated some of his improvisations, the “followed” his improvisations simultaneously. He also introduced using an “ah” and “ee” vocalization, which, at first, I thought was like western exercises. It is not. The ah and ee sounds are quite precise, almost like tonguing on a clarinet or trumpet. No vibrato – absolute pure, perfect, on pitch tones. This … is a challenge! Though not ideal, vibrato can cover a multitude of pitch inaccuracies. There is a tremolo in Indian music, but this is NOT a vibrato. A tremolo goes very specifically between two tones (half tones or even quarter tones).
Besides the lessons in theory and practice, our time was interspersed with stories and attitudes. On the wall was a small picture of Sarasvati, the goddess of music and consort of Brahma. Sarasvati is always depicted with a veena (large, stringed instrument – very beautiful and a very old instrument). Sarasvati, it is said, is very big. She sits, however, on a white lotus. How, my teacher asks, is it possible for her to sit on the lotus without bending its stem? It is because she has no weight. Weight is symbolic for arrogance. Sarasvati has no arrogance and is humble to everyone. And so is the artist. There can be no arrogance in any art form.
I was also told the definition of guru: gu means darkness and ru means one who disperses the darkness. So the guru is responsible for guiding the student to the way of light. 5000 years ago, when the students lived with the teacher, the sciences were taught through verse. The verses were an aid for remembering the details of the instruction, much in the way that it is easier to learn a rhyme than a sentence. The oldest verse was on one tone with a variety of rhythm. Later verses added the tones just above and below the first, and then the others were added over the years. Santhosh also related the theory that some (many, all) of the ragas came from nature. He told a story of when, once, he sat in nature on the banks of the river in his native Kerela. It was after the harvest and there were many birds migrating. As he sat, he heard two birds, both unfamiliar. One sang a short 3 note melody; the other answered in a two note, slower one. Back and forth, back and forth. It was the raga we were studying. For him, it was a revelation, and one could see him reliving that moment as he told the story.
And so, the hour fled, and I am left to ponder … and to practice.
Linda: An Indian Moment,Feb. 20
Linda: An Indian Moment Feb. 20
We left Hampi with great reluctance. There are some times in life when one is truly and completely at peace and happy, where the constellation of the inner and outer life is in balance for the particular type of person you are. These few days in Hampi, as in the days backpacking in the high mountains and prairies of the West, were such idyllic days. I can’t quite think of the adjectives for this place. Not quite glorious, although the remnants of glory are there. Peaceful. Pure. Mysterious. Hidden. Magical. Appeasing. Healing. The wonder and beauty of absolute contentment. It is in the land. It is in the people. Everyone we met was met with the heart. Leaving the family where we stayed was like leaving my family, and even the rickshaw driver who had taken care of us for our time there left us with a heavy heart. Quiet people. Undemanding people. Generous people. Sincere people. For me, it was a Shangri La, whose surface we had just begun to explore. As far as “sites”, we did not even have enough “time” to see some of the ruins and natural features (waterfalls/cascades/the Monkey Temple) within a stone’s throw of our house. Though the town was small, we kept discovering little, hidden alleys with shops and restaurants with their people and their stories.
It was in the wee hours of the night that we stole away from this magical place. It was somehow fitting that we arrived and left here in darkness, as though this little jewel of existence was somewhere else, not quite in this world. Its world of light was separated from the everyday by the inward mystery of night and remains a world apart.
And so our journey continues. We slept on the train for little more than two hours that night, between 3:00-5:30 in the morning. Then, waiting, waiting at the train station for our next connection – our first dip into relative train “luxury” as we managed to finally get a ticket for the air conditioned compartment on the train. Same number of people in that small space, but … as it was getting warmer, air conditioning seemed a luxury. Alas, there was the proverbial “fly in the ointment”, as our tickets were waitlisted and not actual reservations for seats. Now, here in India, unlike the States, when one is waitlisted you still get on the train – especially when you are numbers 2 and 3 on the waitlist. It seems that people “always” don’t show and a place is guaranteed. This, of course, made me rather nervous, but, we were in India so I was going to proceed ala India. We got on the compartment on the train, confused as to how to proceed. Which seats are free? They seemed full to me – MORE than full! There seemed to be more than the requisite number of people, in fact, in the compartments we passed.
What to do? We were told to just sit anywhere and the conductor would take care of us. For someone on two hours of sleep, these were not very supportive instructions. So, I just looked at the group of people in the compartment, said we were waitlisted and had no idea what to do. India sprang into action.
We managed to book ourselves on a train compartment filled with young graduate students in mechanical engineering (20 men, 3 women) who were going for a week long seminar at a cutting edge nuclear power plant at the far end of the train line – significantly farther than we were going … which meant that every berth was taken and there had been no cancellations! But these were gentlemen. Without question or hesitation and before we really knew what was happening, our bags were stored and care was taken for our comfort. Two men gave up their berths so that we could sleep – the others had to cram uncomfortably on a lower berth while Eleanor slept above for hours, not only without complaint, but happily and joyously. Chivalry is not dead, and it was with great pleasure and humility that they could care for us in an unobtrusive and protective way.
For the next 24 hours, we had many, many interesting conversations with these young students – intelligent, engaging students from every corner of India. Conversation wove its way around popular music and film, to sports, life in their families and villages. Conversation quickly went into social issues, religion, the need for a guru, leading a simple life, remembering that “if you can choose the meal you get to eat and when, then you are rich.” A group of young men, struggling to keep what is Indian and yet still make it in this world. Family and marriage was also discussed, and they were extremely grateful and happy to see Eleanor and me traveling together. It was there first real example of an American family. There are so many misconceptions about American families and relationships due to the media and due to the tourists they see here. They don’t really see Western families here. They see older couples and young people (often acting like couples, but unmarried). It was a beautiful thing to share our family with them and to talk about the many, many real families that still fill our land, though one has to admit that our divorce rate is appalling. We spoke of arranged marriages and love marriages. (97% arranged marriages – which has its problems but usually works well. The premise is on mutual respect and generosity and duty, from whence love will come. It is about thinking of what you can give and not feelings, unless it is a genuine feeling.) These young men, filled with that irrepressible glow of the all-possible future, enjoying their youth and their education, but also very serious about their future responsibilities and their capacity to live up to an ideal. They represented the best of young people everywhere: serious, thinking, engaged, playful, eager, hopeful, idealistic, preparing.
Then, one student talked Eleanor into getting out her violin. And on we rumbled, clackety clack, the train rumbled through the countryside while Eleanor played. It was … quite a moment. The music comes, as it sometimes does, the seats and aisles filled, rumors floated down the cars, and others from adjoining cars came by, in and out, giving space to others, a respite during a long journey - into music. And with that, the violin gets passed and a student starts to play Indian music, violin pointed downward with the scroll resting on his foot that is crossed over the other knee. Eyes closed, silence, nodding heads, sighs of appreciation, applause. And so it continued – singing in various modalities, stories, cards, rest, sharing of food – that special magic of the train where lives are locked together in close quarters for a length of time. Where, sometimes, more is given and received than can sometimes happen in months of daily life. The magic of Hampi must have lingered on. I will never see any of these young men again, but their faces and their kindness, their joyful generosity and idealism, their ability to question their pre-conceived ideas and information, gladly shaping it to what they experienced, their willingness to ask piercing and penetrating questions in the quest to understand will remain fixed in my memory. They were … alive.
As with young people everywhere, the comraderie continued until the wee hours. At first, I tried to sleep and was wondering, when, oh when would everyone else decide to sleep. Eleanor told me later that a few men in the berth next to where I was would occasionally say, “Shhh! Auntie’s trying to sleep.” Irrepressible youth at its finest. Finally, I thought I must, like all that is positive, embrace it all. I stopped trying to think about “needing to sleep” and enjoyed the happiness that was flowing between all these young people.
Our stop was a tiny, tiny station and we were scheduled to arrive at 6:30 in the morning when it is still dark. Getting off at the right stop is a little tricky. The station’s signs are mainly in Hindi and the local script with some signs in English. Some stations are better than others with their signage, but one has to be alert and ready to go. Often, and especially at the small stations, the train only stops for a few minutes. It is best to be at the door with your bags before the train has come to a complete stop. If not, you could get stuck by the people getting on … and miss getting off the train altogether. Not that there are necessarily many people trying to get on (although there can be), but it is narrow spaces … and we have large suitcases – especially by Indian standards. Reading the signs at the train stations can be complicated by the fact that there may be another train between ours and the main platform where the signage is best. OR, the curtains or screen on the neighboring berth might be closed and you cannot see out one side. Or … the outside condensation on your window makes reading the signs whisking by difficult to impossible.
Not to worry, because Everyone else was concerned, too. The conductor (we actually DID get berths of our very own) and the steward kept us abreast as to which stops were coming up and how many more we could expect and the men who shared the berths on both sides all got up (even though they only went to sleep 3 hours earlier) to share the morning, watch for the stops, and carry our bags off the train. A heartful adieu in the early morning. A day I will never forget.
We left Hampi with great reluctance. There are some times in life when one is truly and completely at peace and happy, where the constellation of the inner and outer life is in balance for the particular type of person you are. These few days in Hampi, as in the days backpacking in the high mountains and prairies of the West, were such idyllic days. I can’t quite think of the adjectives for this place. Not quite glorious, although the remnants of glory are there. Peaceful. Pure. Mysterious. Hidden. Magical. Appeasing. Healing. The wonder and beauty of absolute contentment. It is in the land. It is in the people. Everyone we met was met with the heart. Leaving the family where we stayed was like leaving my family, and even the rickshaw driver who had taken care of us for our time there left us with a heavy heart. Quiet people. Undemanding people. Generous people. Sincere people. For me, it was a Shangri La, whose surface we had just begun to explore. As far as “sites”, we did not even have enough “time” to see some of the ruins and natural features (waterfalls/cascades/the Monkey Temple) within a stone’s throw of our house. Though the town was small, we kept discovering little, hidden alleys with shops and restaurants with their people and their stories.
It was in the wee hours of the night that we stole away from this magical place. It was somehow fitting that we arrived and left here in darkness, as though this little jewel of existence was somewhere else, not quite in this world. Its world of light was separated from the everyday by the inward mystery of night and remains a world apart.
And so our journey continues. We slept on the train for little more than two hours that night, between 3:00-5:30 in the morning. Then, waiting, waiting at the train station for our next connection – our first dip into relative train “luxury” as we managed to finally get a ticket for the air conditioned compartment on the train. Same number of people in that small space, but … as it was getting warmer, air conditioning seemed a luxury. Alas, there was the proverbial “fly in the ointment”, as our tickets were waitlisted and not actual reservations for seats. Now, here in India, unlike the States, when one is waitlisted you still get on the train – especially when you are numbers 2 and 3 on the waitlist. It seems that people “always” don’t show and a place is guaranteed. This, of course, made me rather nervous, but, we were in India so I was going to proceed ala India. We got on the compartment on the train, confused as to how to proceed. Which seats are free? They seemed full to me – MORE than full! There seemed to be more than the requisite number of people, in fact, in the compartments we passed.
What to do? We were told to just sit anywhere and the conductor would take care of us. For someone on two hours of sleep, these were not very supportive instructions. So, I just looked at the group of people in the compartment, said we were waitlisted and had no idea what to do. India sprang into action.
We managed to book ourselves on a train compartment filled with young graduate students in mechanical engineering (20 men, 3 women) who were going for a week long seminar at a cutting edge nuclear power plant at the far end of the train line – significantly farther than we were going … which meant that every berth was taken and there had been no cancellations! But these were gentlemen. Without question or hesitation and before we really knew what was happening, our bags were stored and care was taken for our comfort. Two men gave up their berths so that we could sleep – the others had to cram uncomfortably on a lower berth while Eleanor slept above for hours, not only without complaint, but happily and joyously. Chivalry is not dead, and it was with great pleasure and humility that they could care for us in an unobtrusive and protective way.
For the next 24 hours, we had many, many interesting conversations with these young students – intelligent, engaging students from every corner of India. Conversation wove its way around popular music and film, to sports, life in their families and villages. Conversation quickly went into social issues, religion, the need for a guru, leading a simple life, remembering that “if you can choose the meal you get to eat and when, then you are rich.” A group of young men, struggling to keep what is Indian and yet still make it in this world. Family and marriage was also discussed, and they were extremely grateful and happy to see Eleanor and me traveling together. It was there first real example of an American family. There are so many misconceptions about American families and relationships due to the media and due to the tourists they see here. They don’t really see Western families here. They see older couples and young people (often acting like couples, but unmarried). It was a beautiful thing to share our family with them and to talk about the many, many real families that still fill our land, though one has to admit that our divorce rate is appalling. We spoke of arranged marriages and love marriages. (97% arranged marriages – which has its problems but usually works well. The premise is on mutual respect and generosity and duty, from whence love will come. It is about thinking of what you can give and not feelings, unless it is a genuine feeling.) These young men, filled with that irrepressible glow of the all-possible future, enjoying their youth and their education, but also very serious about their future responsibilities and their capacity to live up to an ideal. They represented the best of young people everywhere: serious, thinking, engaged, playful, eager, hopeful, idealistic, preparing.
Then, one student talked Eleanor into getting out her violin. And on we rumbled, clackety clack, the train rumbled through the countryside while Eleanor played. It was … quite a moment. The music comes, as it sometimes does, the seats and aisles filled, rumors floated down the cars, and others from adjoining cars came by, in and out, giving space to others, a respite during a long journey - into music. And with that, the violin gets passed and a student starts to play Indian music, violin pointed downward with the scroll resting on his foot that is crossed over the other knee. Eyes closed, silence, nodding heads, sighs of appreciation, applause. And so it continued – singing in various modalities, stories, cards, rest, sharing of food – that special magic of the train where lives are locked together in close quarters for a length of time. Where, sometimes, more is given and received than can sometimes happen in months of daily life. The magic of Hampi must have lingered on. I will never see any of these young men again, but their faces and their kindness, their joyful generosity and idealism, their ability to question their pre-conceived ideas and information, gladly shaping it to what they experienced, their willingness to ask piercing and penetrating questions in the quest to understand will remain fixed in my memory. They were … alive.
As with young people everywhere, the comraderie continued until the wee hours. At first, I tried to sleep and was wondering, when, oh when would everyone else decide to sleep. Eleanor told me later that a few men in the berth next to where I was would occasionally say, “Shhh! Auntie’s trying to sleep.” Irrepressible youth at its finest. Finally, I thought I must, like all that is positive, embrace it all. I stopped trying to think about “needing to sleep” and enjoyed the happiness that was flowing between all these young people.
Our stop was a tiny, tiny station and we were scheduled to arrive at 6:30 in the morning when it is still dark. Getting off at the right stop is a little tricky. The station’s signs are mainly in Hindi and the local script with some signs in English. Some stations are better than others with their signage, but one has to be alert and ready to go. Often, and especially at the small stations, the train only stops for a few minutes. It is best to be at the door with your bags before the train has come to a complete stop. If not, you could get stuck by the people getting on … and miss getting off the train altogether. Not that there are necessarily many people trying to get on (although there can be), but it is narrow spaces … and we have large suitcases – especially by Indian standards. Reading the signs at the train stations can be complicated by the fact that there may be another train between ours and the main platform where the signage is best. OR, the curtains or screen on the neighboring berth might be closed and you cannot see out one side. Or … the outside condensation on your window makes reading the signs whisking by difficult to impossible.
Not to worry, because Everyone else was concerned, too. The conductor (we actually DID get berths of our very own) and the steward kept us abreast as to which stops were coming up and how many more we could expect and the men who shared the berths on both sides all got up (even though they only went to sleep 3 hours earlier) to share the morning, watch for the stops, and carry our bags off the train. A heartful adieu in the early morning. A day I will never forget.
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