Today, my father calls me to the living room from my book to greet the violinist playing on the television. Still thinking about the essay I read, I nod attentively as he gestures about her movement, her stance, the way she plays. How she plays like a woman- to which I shoot ‘shouldn’t it be like everyone plays?’ and my father gives me a look that said to just ‘listen’. On Thursday, my mother stared at my computer screen with such disappointment that I thought none of my accolades and awards could equate to removing that. I can’t put the speaker on full blast like my friends do on a daily basis in their rooms. Almost everyday, I’m faced with a struggle, a kind of fight that never does seem to end.
The reason- I listen to artists of other countries, of a genre outside of the boundary called classical music.
I’m from a family of Carnatic musicians and vocalists: a kind of Indian classical music that- unlike its fluid counterpart in Hindustani- is much more structured. My name is also a sect of Carnatic music called ‘Keerthanam’: perhaps in the hope that I would acquire the curiousity for the style. My father, being the patron and the violinist he is, surrounded me with so much of it; my mother took the part of introducing me to the music of her youth. While the former didn’t spark a flame in me, my mother’s introduction to Western classical (and by extension, pop music from the 1980s and 1990s), created an inquisition that still runs deep. To me, Carnatic seemed like being chased by chains; Pop music felt like freedom. It still does to me now.
I have deep respect for Carnatic musicians and what they do, what they’re giving us, the younger generation. And I do have a few favourites in it too, being the fast-paced style of certain ragams that I sing for the freedom, without a care of the sruthi (pitch). They’re giving us safe treasures so that our culture is furthered, for culture is alive with its populace. But what I observe around me- as a kid meeting a lot of artists- is a lack of mutual respect. This isn’t a new problem in the area, for Hindustani and Carnatic musicians have had tiffs of ‘who is better’ until many young people began mixing the two and including abhangs (devotional songs) in their concerts. But pop music, and western classical is the new victim of this power struggle. Whenever someone (most of the time, it’s me) mentions their love for them, they’re met with a condescending stare from the other; and there’s the downward spiral of how the entire world screams the name of Indian Music, how foreigners are learning and we aren’t, how we should take a page (or an entire novel) from them.
I think the first part of this complex of superiority comes from the more technical part of music: that Indian classical uses a myriad of ragams and patterns, while the West acclimatizes itself with lesser ragams (mostly Shakarabharanam, my father adds with a dismissive wave) and simpler patterns. A more crazier theory I heard from a musician close to my father was that the West copied off Indian music's base notes (SA RI GA MA) and just changed the names to DO RE MI FA. All the while I stood there and thought- doesn’t that warrant you to give respect? The fact that cultures intermingle and adapt things to the context of their society and finally make it their own is not an enough reason to respect another artform? Respect is something we, as a culture, should receive- yes, we have innovations that ought to be respected- but how do we expect that when we don’t respect other kinds around us?
(as I’ve grown older, I’ve noticed the sexism in musical compositions as well- Tyagaraja, one of the founders, famously sang in one of his keerthanams that God can rescue you from the enslavement to your wife/mother-in-law; which is so messed up as it implies that men have no obligations of help towards their wife’s family- even in the context of making the woman a metaphor for lust.)
And then there are the people like my father, who claim that they respect but actually don’t. They look at good music outside their forum and turn a blind eye, saying ‘we respect’ but are filled with superiority. As a child, I would believe it; but now one look into their eyes and I know that it’s a blatant lie. People like them want their children to explore, but want them strictly tied back to their kind of music. They enforce an ideal that leaves their children guilt-ridden when they find out that Carnatic isn’t really for them; and when they express this, the person threatens to stop loving them. And as they transition into adulthood, this manifests into anger as you look their hypocrisy in the eye.
My father fights for dominance over me, weaponizing music; I fight for respect. It’s as simple as I write it: R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Mutual respect for pop music as a skill, an art- no less and no more than Carnatic Music really is. Artists like BTS are changing the world, creating art in their music and finding their music being created into art. At the end, musicians need to accept that while for them, a particular kind of music may be the entire world, it may not be so for their next generation. Some may choose to resonate and embrace, others might choose to never make it a part of their lives at all, despite being born into a circle like that. Musicians need to stop guilt-tripping their children by saying ‘you’ll regret’ and that ‘I put in so much effort into you’: accept your offspring as independent individuals who are driven to be creative or to relax through different musical mediums. After all, the knowledge of an acquired genre never goes to waste.
It’s just the matter of giving and receiving respect. That’s your formula.
Until next time, dear reader.