The Tamil Isai Movement

To Carnatic music audiences of today, Tamil is as musical a language as any of the others in which compositions were created – Telugu, Kannada, Sanskrit or Malayalam. Yet there was a time when the language was considered unsuitable for Carnatic music. The belief, widespread till the 1940s, did not come about suddenly. It was an offshoot of the history of South India. Several music lovers were concerned over the secondary status given to Tamil and it was left to the business baron Raja Sir Annamalai Chettiar to correct this wrong. He, through the Music College of the Annamalai University of which he was the founder, called for a conference to discuss the status of Tamil as a music language.

It was at this juncture that an announcement appeared in The Hindu dated 28th July 1941 under the caption “Encouragement of Tamil Songs”. The Annamalai University Syndicate had “approved a scheme for the composition of new Tamil songs and the popularisation of old songs”. The announcement stated that “a conference of votaries of music in this part of the country will be held .. in August and all that songs that will be sung there will be in Tamil only.”

On August 3rd, 1941, Tiger K Varadachariar, Principal, Music College, Annamalainagar wrote to The Hindu, giving details of the conference, scheduled to begin on the 14th of August, in which several prominent musicians were participating. The conference began with a concert by Ariyakkudi Ramanuja Iyengar accompanied by Kumbhakonam Rajamanikkam Pillai and Palani Subramania Pillai. The Subjects Committee of the Conference convened at 1.00 pm that afternoon with T Lakshmana Pillai presiding. The list of attendees was a veritable who’s who of Carnatic Music. Harikesanallur Muthiah Bhagavatar dominated the show and ended it with a discourse on the “Greatness of Tamil Music and its Songs.”

The conference concluded on the 17th of August and its resolutions were published in The Hindu dated 19th. The second of three resolutions sparked off a major controversy. This read “The Sangeetha Sabhas (are) to arrange kacheries in such a way that the songs were in Tamil and that only a minor portion of the kacheri was devoted to songs in other languages.” Several musicians and music lovers felt that this spelt an end to the songs of the Carnatic Trinity and other great composers. Curiously, Ariyakkudi who had until then been singing more Tamil songs in his concerts than any other musician, strongly opposed the resolution too.

The Music Academy and the Indian Fine Arts Society became the rallying points for those opposed to this agenda of Tamilisation. Bitter battles were fought in the press with columns, articles and letters appearing in The Hindu and in Tamil magazines such as Ananda Vikatan and the newly founded Kalki. The latter’s eponymous editor was a staunch supporter of Tamil Isai. On 19th June 1943, Raja Sir Annamalai Chettiar founded a new body to propagate Tamil songs and at the instance of Rajaji named it the Tamil Isai Sangam. It was to have branches in several towns including Madras, Madurai and Devakottai. In December 1943, the Sangam held its own music conference, in parallel to those of the Music Academy and the Indian Fine Arts Society. Artistes such as MS Subbulakshmi, MK Tyagaraja Bhagavatar, KB Sundarambal, GN Balasubramaniam and Madurai Mani Iyer, sang for the Sangam. This caused much resentment at the older Sabhas, but with time attitudes softened on both sides and each came to respect the sentiments of the other. The Music Academy increased the percentage of Tamil songs in its concerts and the Tamil Isai Sangam relaxed its rigid attitude that only Tamil songs could be sung under its portals.

During the early days of the movement, a challenge often posed to the Tamil Isai lobbyists was the absence of a large repertoire of Tamil songs with authentic notations. The works of early composers largely survived as lyrics, sans music. Several top-ranking musicians then worked on setting these songs to tunes. The works of Subramania Bharati, already very popular owing to the ongoing struggle for the country’s freedom, began to be frequently sung in concerts. Composers such as Anai-Ayya, who were contemporaries of Tyagaraja began to receive their due in concerts. Papanasam Sivan, who was making a name for himself as a music composer both in the world of films and classical music became a very popular name. Mayavaram Viswanatha Sastry was another composer who did yeoman service to the cause of Tamil songs. He had been discovered by the Music Academy in the 1930s when he won the first prize for a competition on songs with a nationalistic theme. He went on to create several Tamil songs and emerged a vaggeyakara of the highest order. Yet another Tamil Isai find was MM Dandapani Desigar. Hailing from a family of Oduvars, he became a Carnatic musician who not only set several existing Tamil songs to music but also became a composer. He later headed the Music Department at the Annamalai University. Some others whose creations became popular at this time included the composer Koteeswara Iyer and the lyricist Periasami Thooran. In addition, songs of the Azhwars and Nayanmars began to be set to music. Guruvayur Ponnammal, a singer of yesteryear and better known now as the sister of the mridangam maestro Guruvayur Dorai, set to music the poems of the savant Ramalinga Swamigal.

The Tamil Isai Sangam built a handsome edifice for itself in the Esplanade area of Madras in the 1950s. Fronting it is a statue of its founder. The auditorium remains a popular venue for fine art performances even today and each year in December, it hosts the Tamil Isai Sangam’s music festival where lecture sessions are held in the morning and concerts at night. Today, the Sangam is almost the sole body espousing the cause of Carnatic music in North Chennai.

Sanjay Subrahmanyan is an artiste who apart from his excellence as a singer is known for his extensive repertoire of Tamil songs. In this album, we feature a concert of his that was performed at the Tamil Isai Sangam in December 2009.

This was written as the sleeve note for the Charsur release of a live concert of Sanjay Subrahmanyan’s at the Tamil Isai Sangam during the December Music Season of 2009

Following Sanjay Subrahmanyan

As it has happened in past seasons, I have ended up following my friend across various concert venues and have enjoyed myself immensely. The first was at Kalarasana. The bucket like seats at Rani Seethai Hall ought to have been a deterrent but I braved it nonetheless. The higlight there was Nagumomu  (Abheri) followed by  RTP in Sahana. Having waggled off the seat after two and a half hours I hobbled home and rested my back.

The next concert was at Sri Parthasarathy Swami Sabha, again a great venue in terms of historic sentiment. Here it was a mind-blowing Kamboji followed by Koniyadina napai and then a fantastic RTP in Sumanesaranjani. The SPSS is a rather rough and ready venue, but I think it is a great place for music.

I then heard Sanjay at the Tamil Isai Sangam. This is a great auditorium with a glorious history. Even now the grandeur of the place is undiminished but I doubt if they are still serving the cause of Tamil beyond the hosting of the annual concerts. I asked around if they have any publications for sale and was told there was none. The hall is as beautiful as ever with its commodious but hard seats and a good sound system. A friend remarked that the only drawback with the Sangam is its location. I disagree. It is easier accessing the Sangam than going to Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan in Mylapore. Plenty of parking space, good airconditioning and a canteen which is subsidised to ensure food is available at ridiculously low prices. What more can we ask for? I think it is time people venture out to the Tamil Isai Sangam each year. That may also help the Sabha to get out of its rut. Sanjay sang an arutpa in Hindolam (tuned by Guruvayur Ponnammal) and the RTP was in Shanmukhapriya.

Last evening I went ‘home’ ie, to the Academy for Sanjay’s concert. The canteen had lost its nerve thanks to the vast crowds that were descending and the wife and I shared ice-cold dosas with petrified chutney and some tepid sambar. The water was warm. The concert had Sankarabharanam (Sri Dakshinamurthe) and Kalyana Vasantham (RTP) as the main pieces.

In all concerts, of any artiste, I realise that a particular high point has been reached when an audience bursts into applause spontaneously. This is not the standard applause that you hear at the end of every piece, the alapana, the neraval and swara. This is an applause that you hear at the most unexpected places and it is so thunderous that you realise that the audience has clapped despite itself- that is it knows that this is not the place to applaud but it cannot hold itself back. And you find that your own hands have willingly joined in.

Such an applause was an integral part of each one of the concerts listed above. Despite the fact that I had a truncated season, I must say the above four concerts have left me with a great sense of fulfillment.

To those who have been reading all that I have been writing during the Season (which is not much) and corresponding, have a great 2010.

Season Diary 5

Last evening the wife and I had to rush off from the Music Academy to Kalarasana where Sanjay was singing. What with lingering over the aviyal and discussing the relative merits of the canteens run by Padmanabhan (Music Academy) and Jayaraman (NGS) with others at the table, we got delayed. Now, Jayarama, whatever happens, my heart will always belong to you, though my mind tells me that in Paddu you have a competitor if not in taste, definitely in hygiene. Still you dont have to think of me and mutter “Sakhuditu jesene”. I shall return, for the memory of the vazhaipoo vadai lingers.

To come back to the main story, I was unsure about the loo in Kalarasana and so decided to complete all calls before going there. The Academy gents’ is a huge room by itself and once inside you walk some distance before hitting the urinals. And a mama buttonholed me in the passage way itself. Having fixed me with a beady eye, he decided that this was the best place to discuss present day music. Rather like Coleridge’s Ancient Mariner he would not allow me to proceed further and complete my business.

He held forth on Alathoor, waxed eloquent on MS, wept unabashedly about MLV and all the while me trying to dodge him and proceed further. The wife no doubt impatiently pacing up and down outside wondering what the hell. “Now when are you going to sing?” he asked me, this being based on a one line of Chintayama I sang in my last talk. To add force to the question he also poked me in the stomach with a firm finger, never a pleasant experience when you have not yet downloaded. All around us men walked in, relieved themselves and left and here I was, by now standing on one leg. The wife had taken to SMSing in the meanwhile.

After what appeared to be an eternity, the floor-cleaner arrived with a mop and suggested we move on. “Oh have you come to use the loo?” asked the Mariner (what else did he think I was there for?) and also promptly added that he would come along. Here I protested but the creature was impervious to it all and walked along and then (mercifully and much to my relief) parked himself in the adjacent urinal (I all along feared that we would share one). He continued to talk but I being younger and therefore quicker off the mark finished first and fled. Last heard he was speaking about how some musicians of today would soon fade away. Wonder if he is for real or just one of the ghosts that regularly haunt the place.

Season Diary 4

The Academy canteen fully lived up to its reputation. Rushing in at 4.00 pm I had an excellent coffee. Then at 6.30 pm, I surfaced with wife for aloo paratha, adai avial, a cutlet and akkaravadisal. The cutlet was average but all others were v good. The paratha in particular a winner.

From the 22nd the Academy has been abuzz with the Nobel laureate putting in an appearance. I was in Sowmya’s concert when I got an sms from a scribe asking if “he was here”. I was duly enlightened that “he” meant “him”. I could not see from where I sat but on coming out at the end of the concert I was informed by a battery of press photographers that he was really in the auditorium. On being informed, the scribe rushed in and must have no doubt had an interview.

The next day the Nobel apparently came again, sans any fuss, stood in the canteen queue, bought a coupon, ate something and then attended a concert. This time no scribe(s) who must have gone after some other story. The standing in queue does not come naturally to several patrons of the Academy who think it is a matter of right to barge in. The Nobel’s behaviour must have been unfathomable to them.

“He is related to me you know” whispered a regular to me. He also offered to draw a detailed family tree. But I was not interested. I am quite sure there are many people going around Chennai claiming all kinds of connections with the Nobel. Reminds me of the time when Chennai suddenly woke up to Indira Nooyi.

Season Diary 1

Attended Sowmya’s concert at Academy. Kharahapriya was superb. The Vardhini RTP was also very well presented. Ragamalika swaras included Kamavardhini, Ragavardhini, Vivardhini and Dhatuvardhini. Detailed alapana was also presented in Surati.

At Gnanambika Jayaraman’s

To celebrate my return to two feet, I went to Gnanambika and splurged on a good lunch. The vazhapoo vadai was excellent as was the angayapodi sevai. Dosa was ok. The kuzhi paniyaram was out of this world. The kasi halwa was good. Coffee top class. Oh Jayarama you are back at your post and all is right with this world.

Academy lec dem 16/12

The first day’s session began with the unveiling of portraits of C Saraswathi Bai and Tallapaka Annamacharya. Yours truly spoke for two minutes on the greatness of Bai and Pappu Venugopala Rao did the same for Annamacharya. N Murali, as President of the Academy unveiled the portraits. It was a matter of gratification for me that Bai’s portrait was unveiled in the presence of her nephew R Venkataramana Row, who in his eighties, did not mind the rain or his infirmities and came to witness the event. In a small way, this rights in an infinitesimal fashion, the wrong done to Bai by the Academy in 1950 when it denied her the Kalanidhi. I sincerely hope the portraits of both Bai and Annamacharya make it to one of the panels designated for this purpose in the Academy lobby. While working on the Academy book, I discovered at least ten such portraits, all ceremoniously unveiled and subsequently dumped in a cupboard in the library.

The lec dem today was on the role of upapakkavadyams in concerts. This was by V Krishna, son of the doyen Bangalore Venkataram whose Percussive Arts Centre in Bangalore is very well known. Krishna was accompanied by G Guruprasanna on the kanjira, Giridhar Udupa on the ghatam and Bangalore Rajasekar on the mohrsing. G Ravikiran provided vocal accompaniment.

It was very well presented in the sense that the English was flawless, the bonhomie and spirit of cooperation on stage was great and everyone was very good. But it suffered from poor time planning and no matter that the speaker repeated several times that such a presentation needs a day (agreed) he was fully aware when he accepted the lec dem invite that he had exactly an hour.

The lec dem was in two parts- the first explained the history of the instruments and when each was taken up for detailing, the concerned artiste gave a brief demo. Unfortunately, this took too long, almost 45 minutes and within this, the kanjira was given too much time. But the facts were very good. All this meant that the second part – the role of upapakkavadyams in concerts which was the main subject, had to be dealt with in 15 minutes and with some extension given by the chair, an additional ten minutes.

Invariably, and this is not just in this case, all speakers spend some time in complimenting the Sangita Kalanidhi designate and also thanking the Music Academy. I would suggest that this be avoided by a simple statement at the beginning of each year’s session from the President to the effect : O Sangita Kalanidhi Designate, all speakers and lec demmers compliment you and recognise your greatness. Similarly, the Music Academy acknowledges with grateful thanks, the gratitude of all those who have been given an opportunity to speak. Thanks to you all, now get on with the subject.

Getting on with the subject, V Krishna spoke very well. He had researched his subject thoroughly. Here are some facts:

Generally speaking, the mridanga is the pradhana laya vadya. All the others suffer from the inability to set them to a particular sruti and are therefore saha laya vadyas. Great artistes have overcome such limitations and performed amazingly with these instruments.

Kanjira:

1. A member of the membranophone instrument family

2. Figurines of women playing a circular hand-held frame have been discovered dating to 2000 BC.

3. It has gone by various names across the world such as duff, tar, tambourine etc. Variants have existed in Assyria, China, Peru and Greenland.

4. Historical references to in India exist in Ahobila’s Sangita Parijata. The Sangam works refer to Chinnaparai which was a frame with a deerskin stretched on it and usually served as an accompaniment to the yaazh. It was held with one hand and played with some force by the other. Bharata called it the Dardara or the Dardura. In Tamil it instruments such as the Sallari, the Jhallari and Kai Parai approximate to it.

5. Structurally it has a frame of jackfruit wood of dia 7-9″ and a width of 2″. The skin of the monitor lizard is stretched on one side. A slit with a single jingle exists on the side frame. On being beaten, the parallel fibres of the skin vibrate and resonate sequentially. If wetted on the inside, a good bass effect is produced.

6. The use of the monitor lizard is now banned and so experiments have been tried with bandicoot skin, but the smell is awful. Artificial fibre has been tried with good results. But none can come near the original lizard. Apparently, the best place for this lizard is my own Bengal. When tuned, it should ideally match the left toppi of the mridangam.

7. Tha and Thom are the only two syllables possible on the kanjira. Two successive strokes with the index finger and the palm is a speciality.

8. The man who fashioned the present day kanjira was Pudukottai Manpoondia Pillai. Other stalwarts have been Dakshinamurthy Pillai, Palani Muthiah Pillai, Ramnad Chitsabhai Servai, Palani Subramania Pillai and G Harishankar.

Ghatam

1.  One of the most ancient percussion instruments. Has existed in countries like Nigeria and of course in India and Pakistan. Called the hobbock and the ghara/matka (North India), it was largely a folk instrument.

2. The Valmiki Ramayana mentions the ghata as a musical instrument in the Sundara Kanda. The Sangita Ratnakara of Sarngadeva also mentions it. So does the Sangita Damodara.

3. It has the pancha bhutas in it. Made of prithvi along with ap and agni, it has vayu in its pores and the sound is produced by akasa.

4. There are two types. One is more spherical with a smaller neck and is less heavy and is made in Karnataka, Andhra and Northern Tamil Nadu. The other one is heavier and cylindrical with a longer neck and comes from Manamadurai and Palghat.  Both varieties are made of mud with brass, copper and iron filings mixed.

5. The first variety is more suited for delicate strokes. You can reduce the pitch of a ghatam by applying beeswax or plasticene. If you want to reduce the pitch quickly, fill it with water, leave it for ten minutes, drain it and you will see an immediate reduction in pitch. But the volume does suffer.

6. Ranga Rao and Shama Rao of Mysore, Umayalpuram Sundaram Iyer/Narayana Iyer, Palani Krishna Iyer were the pioneers in the modern day ghatam. The last named is said to have trained under Coimbatore Anantachar.

7. Umayalpuram has a particularly rich tradition. Kothandarama Iyer was a stalwart who switched from the mridangam to the ghatam. V Krishna mentioned V Suresh and Sukanya Ramgopal and also Vikku Vinayakaram among  present day names.

8. The double stroke with both hands and the gumki with both hands, the use of wrist and thumb, the double gumki with the stomach and wrists are all specialities in this instrument.

The Mohrsing

1. The construction was described in detail. But I found it a little confusing and so refrained from taking notes. It belongs to the lamellophone family.

2. It is an instrument used all over the world. Rajasekar played on Russian, Vitenamese, Japanese and Indian varieties and they all sounded amazingly the same! Truly this must qualify as an international instrument.

3. It goes by various names such as Mukhasangu, Morchang, Jews Harp, Jaws Harp.

4. A Buddhist work states this was used in monasteries like a conch and was meant to indicate the beginning of classes.

5. Sounds are produced by inhalation, exhalation and the tongue.

6. The sounds we here are by the konnakkol recitation of which care must be taken that all sounds must emanate only from the mohrsing.

7. Coimbatore Venkoba Rao, Adichapuram Seetharama Iyer and Mannargudi Natesa Pillai are some of the pioneers.

The programme then went on to part II. The technique of when it would be appropriate for each pakka vadyam to enter the piece being rendered was demonstrated for a varnam and also for sangatis in kritis.

The presentation had to be wound up after that. I was eagerly awaiting facts on how to play for niraval, swaram, kannakku, tani, teermanam etc, all of which I thought were more pertinent to the subject. But then, the Academy’s time schedules are cast in stone.

Trichy Sankaran praised the speakers and the accompanists. Dr Pappu questioned the etymology of this peculiar term upa (Sanskrit) pakka (Tamil and meaning Upa) vadyam (Sanskrit). He felt they must be called sahalayavadya. In the old days, a TV Subba Rao or a Raghavan would have brought in a resolution to that effect, but we live in egalitarian times.

TRS spoke. Valayappatti summed up in his unique style. The man is cast in a different mould. Having shaded his eyes he tried to recognise all those in the rows of Experts Committee Members and said “Yaaru amma anda lady? O Vedavalliya? Vanga Vanga”.

He told Ravikiran that he sang very well and quoted GNB to the effect that if any good singer needs to become a top ranker, he must have some anavasyams (unnecessary elements) in his music. He hoped Ravikiran would soon do so.

He then pleaded for retaining Tamil and Sanskrit in music. Having said this, he solemnly demonstrated various nadais by reciting the nursery rhyme Hickery Dickery Dock. He commented on how tame it all sounded. Whereupon Pappu thanked everyone and we all left.

Music Academy Inauguration

The Academy’s 83rd Conference and Concerts got underway last evening. Despite the terrific rains a good crowd gathered for the inauguration. Metal detectors placed at all entrances to the building are a new addition. When the Sangita Kalanidhi designate Valayapatti walked through the one at the VIP entrance, it went into overdrive and kept wailing and wailing. The artiste had so many medals on his person. And mobbed as he was at the entrance by photographers and fans, he continued standing under the detector for a long period of time.

Valayapatti brings in an atmosphere of informality to the Academy. His way of greeting people is a pat on the cheek. Everyone received it last evening, from Viswanathan Anand downwards. This reminded me of the story of Dr S Radhakrishnan patting Stalin’s (the Soviet one) cheek.

The speeches were very good. N Murali traced the new developments at the Academy and the amount of time, effort and money being spent on the infrastructure is truly monumental. The Academy is truly working hard to remain primus inter pares among Sabhas.

Valayapatti’s speech veered off the typed text he brought with him. It was humorous and also pertinent. Some examples:

- I dont know the tavil as well as it knows me

- There are some cells in the brain that can be stimulated for a few minutes by ice cream, for a few hours by alcohol, but only music stimulates them forever

- My instrument is beyond language. For instance when I play in Kerala I dont play in Malayalam

- An ambitious mother brought her daughter to me so that I could assess the child’s music. At the end of the performance I said that girl must imbibe layam. A week later the child came once again, this time with a sore throat. I asked the mother for the reason. She said, “why sir, it was you who said that she must have lime and so I have been feeding her with lime juice every hour”

He revealed a couple of points I did not know of:

1. The nagaswaram is made of accha maram or the devadaru tree’s wood and this is the same wood which is used for constructing the balalayam to house the spirit of the deity when a temple undergoes renovation.

2. The veena, the mridangam and the tavil are all made from the same wood – palamaram. The tavil and the mridangam are covered with calf/cow or goat’s hide as these animals are vegetarians. It honours the concept of meat not entering temples.

Valayapatti spoke in Tamil and this apparently was not to the liking of two foreign consuls who right in the middle of the speech got up and left. And we always thought that walking out in the middle of a speech or song is an Indian custom! Or is it that these men are now Indianised? But it made me wonder if the same walkout could be done in their home countries even if the speech was in swahili.

Viswanathan Anand made a beautiful speech. Short and in polished English. He traced the similarities between chess and music.

- Both are taught from early childhood

- Interest of a child in either field is noticed when the child watches elder siblings or family members perform.

- The transition from amateur to a potential maestro is sudden or may never happen

- In both fields you need hours of preparation and yet when the curtains part, there is a moment of complete blanking out. Then your brain takes over.

- Both are seemingly passive arts but inside each are volumes of mathematics, permutations, strategies and innovations

- Both music and chess have embraced modern technology and also adapted their format to suit changing times

- If one has eight pieces, the other has seven notes

- In both, no matter how well you are prepared, you are judged after each performance

The master said that he relaxed by listening to music and wondered if musicians relaxed by playing chess.

It was a speech completely devoid of all banalities and the usual cliches about Bharata, Matanga, Sarngadeva etc. Also no Sanskrit quotes which each Chief Guest till now has thought is mandatory at the Academy. These appealed at best to the patron rows.

As always the event began on time and ended on time. The sound system is very good but it showed its true colours when N Ramani proposed Valayapatti’s name for the Kalanidhi. “Digadougdigadougdigadougdigadoug” was what we got. But the audience, quite used to the format, clapped dutifully. You should have seen TN Seshagopalan’s face when he heard the sounds emanating as Ramani spoke. After all his concert was next and he had every right to be worried. Mercifully, the system righted itself when he seconded Valayapatti’s name.

The tradition of proposing and seconding is a unique one at the Academy and pertains to the days when the choice of the President of the Conference (synonymous with the Sangita Kalanidhi) was made on the floor of the house. It is now a quaint ritual rather like the calling of the graces at a University Convocation.

Audience dutifully clapped at the end of TNS’ one line too! We are well trained.

The VIP felt covered door is even better than the glass door. Now there is an element of suspense and each time it opens, every eye in the auditorium turns right to see who has come. “Eyes right” as they would say in march pasts. From Varugalamo Ayya, we have moved on to Yaaro, Ivar Yaaro.

Varugalamo ayya?

The book release went off well and a decent crowd attended.But standing on stage at the Music Academy, I realised with a shock that the door to the sanctum, namely the VIP entrance to the main hall, has changed forever. Gone is the ugly glass door which used to open with a bang and shut with a clang each time someone went out or came in. In its place stand a pair of wooden doors, completely covered with felt and therefore not see through. They look nice, but in the removal of the old door, an old social order  and a way of life has gone forever.

Lets face it. One of the greatest joys of sitting in the ground floor was that side entrance. It provided entertainment that was equal to and often better than the concert that was in progress. From inside the auditorium, when you were bored and felt like leaving but could not, as the mami with the varicose veins you trod on when you came in is sitting to your right and the elderly gent who was just a few minutes ago describing in graphic detail his fistula to someone over the phone is on your left, you could gaze out at what was happening outside.

And plenty would be happening. Diverse characters would drift there, savour some music, sit on the metal chairs and chin wag for a while before heading towards the canteen. You could see if your friend whom you had invited for lunch at the canteen had come. In case he/she had, he/she would bend low and scan the auditorium for you. This would make many inside the hall peer back, hoping that this was the rescuer whom they were waiting for. Those with near-sighted vision would wave . All these fluttering hands would distract many more and soon the waving would become an epidemic.

This was also the door that you could see through to check if your chauffeur had reported so that you could get up and leave during the tani. That is if you did not want him to come barging in and prodding you awake as you slept with your mouth hanging open, letting out a snore or two. Now there is no other way. You will have to wait for him either to throw open the doors and blunder his way in or he can anyway make a call on the cell-phone which not being on silent, will be easy to hear.

Returning to the drama at the door, you can see who has come without a pass and is trying to convince the boyscout to let them in. You can also see who is trying to force his/her way in with a pink (donor) or grey (lifer) pass and when the boyscout points out that a white pass is needed, the person will pretend to be surprised and go off into the Academy’s nether regions.

This is also the door at which making a late entrance to a concert was realy fashionable. There you stood, with the door ajar, the ac duct above blowing air and making your baluchari/conjeevaram saris swirl about you, even as you surveyed the audience, fully aware that every eye was turned towards you and was likewise sizing you up.

If all this is not there, then what is the joy in going to the Academy? But wait, surely the sudden opening of an opaque door has more drama than a dirty glass one? Surely you can stand at the threshold for a second longer, for after all, your eyes need to adjust to the dark? Surely the driver’s arrival will be noticed by more people? And so the new door is not so bad after all. By shutting off a door, a whole new vista of possibilities has opened up. Some come one, come all! Lets enjoy the season