Extras
Harprit's Punjab Travelogue - 1
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I’d travelled to India many times, but this trip in particular filled me with anticipation and excitement. This visit was solely to indulge my first love – my passion for Indian classical music, and in particular the instrument I study. The Tabla.
We
landed on a foggy morning in Amritsar, Punjab. As soon as we left the
plane the “India feeling” came back, as it always does, like
a kind of genetically imprinted memory that you can only really gain access
to when you’re in India. The musky, smoky smell, the thick air,
the fog, the feeling of tiredness mixed with a child-like excitement.
The Punjab.
On the drive from the airport the fog grew thicker, engulfing the road ahead and the surrounding fields. As we approached a junction there was lots of commotion and shouting. Ahead we saw a jeep full of a family who’d been on the same flight as us, roof-rack loaded with luggage, electrical goods, gifts for relatives, the normal offerings. It had crashed head-on into a large bus. The jeep was a mangled mess, the bus looked relatively untouched. Shouting helpers tried to cut the bodies out, get the traffic moving again. I tried not to look or think. I was too tired: this was too much, too early.
The sun was breaking through now, on a fresh winter morning. The colours of the landscape were coming through: lush greens and deep browns. The landscape shimmered in the light. Everything seemed so fresh, growing and bursting with life.
I
rested for a few days. It was still hot, though the cold months of January
and February were on the way. In a matter of days the sun worked its effects
on my body: I was more relaxed, my skin grew darker and somehow tougher.
I no longer suffered from cold hands – perfect for playing.
Over the next few weeks I spent time visiting various Tabla masters and teachers, playing for them, having my faults spelt out and pleasantly surprising a few of them, I think. Some masters turned out to be not such masters, while others turned out to be truly amazing people, as well as formidable artists and teachers. I felt truly blessed to have met such people. After settling down and being accepted as a student by my preferred teacher – a man named Ustad Kale Ram, I divided my time between studying and enjoying the delights of India. I was determined to have all my senses stimulated and satisfied over the coming four months. I was in the perfect state of mind, doing what I love, learning and meeting new people.
Towards the end of December fell the festival of Harballabh, a four-day celebration of the best Indian classical music, held in one of the most important Hindu temples in north India. For four days I listened to music from dusk ‘till dawn. There was food, drink, people to meet and a truly joyous atmosphere – I was in heaven. By the end I was exhausted but I felt strangely re-energized, my soul recharged. I felt at peace.
