Searching Souls.

09 August 2007

Musing over musical notes!

Music…when did it first come conscientiously, into my life?

My mind races back to years ago when I was five.

It also traces its way back to the days when I was nineteen.

At five,to Tarapore Wala Montessori School days, and Nargis Auntie.

Our day would begin with prayers and then we would find ourselves clustered around Nargis auntie and her magnificent Piano.

We would be flocking around her with a curious look on our faces, in the beginning, trying to get as near as possible to the omnipresent Piano.

I was always a very curious child.

What intrigued me most would be how things work.

I would always wonder what is hidden beneath the large hood that produced those different sounds that would happen the moment she would press the keys.

The ears would be trained on the notes but the mind, was always inside the piano, beneath the hood.

I would be mesmerized most of the time by the music that would emerge.

Lost… in my own thoughts while the music played on… singing rarely, with the choir of kids, trying to learn the nursery rhymes.

Listening and musing on the other hand.

Marveling at the collection of small and large instruments that would be clustered around the piano, too.

I would ponder within me, the way instruments made sounds individually, and music, collectively.

That would be my state of mind then, vis a vis music, when I was barely five.

Ever since then music has been an integral path of growing up.

With my father employed in All India Radio, our days would begin with music in some form or the other as depending on his shift, we would switch the radio on, to hear him and whatever he had to offer.

This practice converted into a habit, over a period.

On the other days when he was at home too, the radio would come on and one of his colleagues would conduct the same programme(s) as per a pre designated schedule.

By the by, music through the medium of radio, became an integral part of our daily routine.

So much so, that we would keep a track of time, based on the beginning/end of a certain programme being aired every day, as per a fixed schedule.

We would thus use music through scheduled programmes, to time our activities, too.

The clock was replaced, this way by music, in a way.

That trend we got used to,continued like this, until I passed out of High School.

In high school, a lot of 'English Music' trickled into my life.

Rock, pop,country,metal, etc etc,

From a trickle, it got converted to an obsession thanks to Sri Lanka Broadcasting Corporation, Yuva Vani English, and many many English movies.

The movie, Sound of music, obviously took its place of pride, way back when we got to see it, in mid seventies.

Human beings innate nature, of inventiveness and the urge to compact everything had its way, and soon the luxurious gramophones and radio sets were merged into small portable devices called, Cassette players.

From Radios, music jumped out onto audiocassette players as the gramophone was out of our reach and many more like us, who could not afford it then.

It was a luxury in those days to have a record player and own records.

A luxury that we could ill afford.

A two-in-one, just off the designer tables, came into my life, thanks to my Dad, in 1976-77.

It was a very cute model from the stables of the Japanese firm National Panasonic, and the latest one too.

It did cost us a fortune then.

With its arrival into our household,audio cassettes were the new fad to pursue and listen to music, on.

Soon,I had amassed a large collection of all types on music, on audio cassettes.

Music of our own choice could now be played, at will, at home, at any time, and any number of times.

I could also have the privilege of recording music, as it would play on the radio.

It was a mini studio, which we had at our disposal, at home

By the time I entered college I had also begun to be employed contractually, in the studios of AIR as a production assistant.

Here I stepped into a different level of music juxtaposing.

I learnt how to record, dub music and voice, on professional Nippon machines.

Recording music as and when artists would play live within the confines of studios, would be an enthralling task.

I learnt how to cue professionally and developed an ear for soul stirring music too.

Around this time, yet another form of music caught my attention.

This would stir the soul a lot.

This was music played by marching Military bands.

I had enrolled into NCC, Air wing, and more often than not, all through the college I was merrily lost marching to the tunes of music played by these professional and thoroughly disciplined foot soldiers.

This practice turned into an addiction and helped me get absorbed totally into the thought process of adorning the uniform as a commissioned Officer, in the IAF.

Such thoughts morphed into a dream.

Dream into a hunger.

Hunger into a destination.

Those three years on the rolls of NCC and fastidious effort on my part did culminate successfully into me getting a coveted Presidents' Commission, in early 80’s.

This achievement by me was indeed soul stirring music to all ears.

On a bright sunny day in Dec 1981 when I was being commissioned as a fighter pilot at the Air Force Academy, there were scores of relatives and friends present there enjoying the music that my efforts had produced.

They loved every note.Every Beat.

They gave me a standing applause with a sense of pride glowing on their faces.

Faces, that were all smiles.

Some faces had tears in there eyes too…like my fathers'.

And another soul, not there then, in that group.

Wonder if it had tears too?

Somewhere on this earth.

Along with live military bands, with time, I continued to graduate to yet another form of music.

The deafening sounds made by aero engines…small ones to begin with as an aeromodeler, during the NCC days, to the large ones as a combat pilot in the IAF.

This music culminated into a career.

The day would begin with the huge roaring jet engines, sound pollution for others but music for us: combat pilots.

I would and could create such music now, professionally speaking.

Only this one, the roaring kind,...with my own hands.

The roaring of deafening jet engines, and not on any other musical instrument

I did produce a lot of music, individually and in formations too, in various parts of the country until about the time I had put in 15 years behind me, doing all of that.

Day In and Day Out.

The loud music that I thus learnt to produce was the only solace to me in the beginning of the 1980’s as the soul stirring events in my life then, had taken a nasty turn, and ever since then needed a constant supply of roaring music deafening subtle music.

To squelch the notes of the distant soul.

The soul responsible in making it happen was not there around me to share the same.

To help me progress by marching along side, at every step.

Those thoughts would never leave me alone.

The ear shattering sounds of the roaring jets would not help at all, in dropping them.

They were obsessive.

Very disturbing, when alone.

Out there, in the beautiful Kashmir Valley.

No form of music would soothe the ear.

Not even the deafening Jets, as realization to that effect dawned, once I lost the sheen of becoming a Fighter Pilot.

They would be there.

Embedded.

All the time.

They would erupt and my ears would starve, die, yearn for the music that only souls in silence, can produce in unison, unheard.

These sounds of silence greeted me always, every day, every hour,ever since.

Clueless of whereabouts.

Time flew, as it does.

Life progressed.

But the thoughts haunted.

The musical notes would always play in the back ground of the thought process: like the chiming sweet sounds of a wounding down alarm clock, with dancing figurines delicately posted on top of a pedestal, in a household, does.

Those notes would never fade.

Try as much as I would.

Even with all others around, own family, friends, near and dear ones.

The music that we made this way, now, was no comparison to the soul stirring music we made in those wonderful days, in perfect unison

Such comparing thoughts made me realize that I would rather listen to the sounds of silence and seek out the soul.

I decided to stop making music professionally.

This process resulted in me leaving the IAF.

With time, the loud sounds I would make and enjoy as a daily quota of music, to muffle the inner soft notes of remembrances, faded away, totally,to zero decibel levels.

Notes from the silent soul within me,started throbbing instead.

As loud notes.

Louder than the jet engines' decibel levels that I was so used too.

It was almost 20 years since I had last heard them in person.

But as they were perpetually taped within me they played louder and louder with every day that passed, after I faded out the sounds of IAF, in 1994.

Fade out...to Fade In!

Who knows? to win!

Sounds that created soul stirring music from sheer thoughts.
Music that would make my steps march double time,in the direction of a relentless search.

March I did.

Every day.

Every moment.

The jet engines were replaced by the Internet 24*7.

With the skills that I had honed, I could personally fly to any destination, if I had too, to listen to soulful music.

But I had no idea where that music was located.

Where on this earth?

I decided to pursue the search for music using the power of the net, almost 10 years ago.

Search I did relentlessly since then.

As the notes we would play were the sweetest notes that my ears had ever heard.

Where there is a will there is indeed a way.

I reached the soul.

Thanks to the net and perseverance.

Soon,I heard the notes too.

So did the soul…the notes that the soul wanted to hear from me.

And... I played that musical note too, the one that the soul always wanted me to play ever since.

…On being goaded by the soul.

Only then.

Finally.

I could play music too with style and e'lan, I realized, after almost three decades.

How we wished, I had played it then earlier, when music was young and dancing.

By now, we would have had our own choir!

Even today, the child in me wonders what makes/made, such lovely notes.

How are souls capable of producing notes that are immortal?

The adult in me is at a loss too, now that I have faced the music, in all the senses.

Axee

Alias

Arun Pilot