My life in carnatic music

I have been learning music for about six years now, and I will try to share how it began and how I decided to take a plunge into the sweet world of music. My journey started a long time ago and I am yet to reach my goal. Or will I? What is my goal? Where do I see myself in this vast ocean? Let’s skip all the minor details and jump straight on to where I am now…

So far, I have learned swaravali varsai, upper sthayi varsai, janti varsai, 13 geethas, 3 swarajathis, and am now in my first varnam. Also, simultaneously, I have nearly finished 40 kritis, which is great progress, 7 kritis per year, as well as the initial lessons, which is everything I learned other than the kritis. Out of the kritis I learned, a majority were from Sri Tyagaraja. Not only did singing change my life, it also changed my personality. I have sung at approximately 20 concerts and have learned a lot from them. Firstly, when I started performing, I was in a rush to get of the stage, because I felt really shy. After my first few concerts, I realized that I enjoyed performing and showing people that I can sing. To go even further, Nakul Rao started accompanying me with his mrudangam for almost every concert. After my 10th concert, I also realized that even the audience enjoyed our concerts. Singing changed my perception of performing.

You may ask: How did you start singing? Well, magical determination. Not really magical, but that is just a way of saying that I was devoted to singing. When I was 5 years old, my mother introduced me to carnatic music, in India. I learned carnatic music for a year before I returned. When I came back to U.S, I learned the basics of Sangeetha from Smt. Ranganayaki Srinivasan. Then I started learning from Smt. Sumathy Haran, known to me as “Sumathi Aunty.” I owe all my thanks to Sumathi Aunty, who has given me most of the musical knowledge I know. I have been learning from her for 5 years. She has taught me all the way from Swaravali varsai to varnams. Also, out of the 40 kritis I know, I have learned 35 from her. I also owe my thanks to my parents, who encouraged me to sing. All-in-all, all I have to say is that singing has changed many aspects of my life in a positive way, and I feel that I was born to sing.

Written by Ankith Kumar

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ಕನ್ನಡ ಚುಟುಕ

ಕನ್ನಡವಿರಲಿ ಕಣಕಣವೂ
ಕನ್ನಡ ಬೆಳೆಸಿ ಕ್ಷಣಕ್ಷಣವೂ
ಕಂಕಣತೊಟ್ಟ ಅಂಕಣವೆಲ್ಲವೂ
ಕಿಣಿಕಿಣಿ ಎನ್ನಲಿ ಅನುದಿನವೂ

ಕನ್ನಡವಿರಲಿ ಕಣಕಣವೂ
ಕನ್ನಡ ಬೆಳೆಸಿ ಕ್ಷಣಕ್ಷಣವೂ
ಕಂಕಣತೊಟ್ಟ ಅಂಕಣವೆಲ್ಲವೂ
ಕಿಣಿಕಿಣಿ ಎನ್ನಲಿ ಅನುದಿನವೂ

Written by Asha Melkote

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What it means to be a Kannadiga

I have not written on any topic for a long, long time.  As a youngster and as an young man growing up, I was a freelance writer, contributing articles to almost all news papers in India.  But that was in English only. Therefore, to attempt to write about being a Kannadiga even in English was a daunting task for me. Yet I thought I should give it try and here is the result.

Well, I was born in a Kannada family. From the ripe old age 4 or 5, I began to sing Kannada devotional songs, whenever opportunity presented itself. When I moved to New Delhi at the age of 23 or 24, I became an active member of local Madhwa Sangha, that was instrumental in the establishment of a Sri Krishna and Sri Raghavendra temple there. There again, religiously every Thursday and Saturday and on all important religious occasions I took pleasure and pride in singing Kannada devotional songs.

Then came my marriage to my beautiful and dutiful wife, Gita and then a son, strictly in that order.  We moved to New York in early 1971. Those days, forget about Kannadigas, even Indians as a whole were far and few in between. It was with great trepidation that we came to New York.  But much to my relief, I had a Kannada friend at work, by name K.M.Shetty.  Through him I came to know Bheema Rao, who was living in the same apartment building as K.M.Shetty. A little later, we were joined by another Kannada friend, D’Souza. This was the small circle of friends we had at that time  Then in late 1973 or early 1974, we came to know Seshadri and his wife Sri Devi.  It is from them that we came to know about the existence of Kannada Koota, Immediately I became a member, but only on annual basis. In 1976, Seshadri and his wife, who at that time were our neighbors in Flushing, came over to our place for a short visit.  By then, they had come to know my liking for sweets.  So cleverly, they had brought some Mysore Pak for me. After eating the sweets, we quickly slipped into topic about Kannada Koota. Seshadri persuaded me to become a life member of the Koota.

Thus began my long and continuing association with Kannada Koota, New York.  During the past 40 years very many distinguished persons have served the Koota in various capacities.  We all owe them a huge debt of gratitude for making Koota what it is today.  I distinctly remember that on the Gowri and Ganesha habba, I used to sing devotional songs andmy son Anil was an active volunteer in all Koota activities.  After his move to New Jersey, he lost touch with New York Kannada Koota

As could be seen from the above synopsis, I was born a Kannadiga, raised as a Kannadiga and continue to lead  life as a Kannidiga. I have always been proud to be a Kannadiga and to this day do not hesitate to wear a Kannadiga badge as a badge of honor.

Written by Gururaja G. Rao

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Happy Father’s Day

Dad doesn’t have all that Mom has got;
She is sweet and she is soft;
She is quick to hide you in the folds of her dress
When Dad knows what you were up to
And is coming at you!
So, you think you don’t need your Dad?

Dad indeed has some rough edges, it seems;
His itchy, scratchy day old beard,
His arms hairy and beefy, his hands rough, voice deep.
But you can’t wait for him to come home,
Lift you up in the air
And call you his princess or his tiger!

The older you get the more you need your dad.
He is your mentor. He is your guide!
He instills in you a boldness you can’t survive without.
Teaches you to play baseball and soccer.
Wants to make a model of yourself.
And his girl, soft on the outside, resilient inside.

He may not cry over your every nicks and cuts.
He may not even sing you a lullaby
But he claps the loudest when you are catching the ball,
Leads you to the adult life you are about to enter,
Teaches you to tough it out,
Molding you to live constructively and happily.

Blessed are the children who can greet their dads
Year after year on their special day
And, causing their eyes moisten with sweet emotion.

Written by Suvasini Subramaniam

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New Year, New Experiment

The art of living
Is a fine mimicry of science;
Researching for a better existence,
An incessant challenge, so ruthless.
So full of uncertainties.

In the Life’s Lab
There are decisions to be made,
Discretion to be maintained,
Priorities to be constantly reconsidered;
It is an active lab, fully charged.

It might be a total failure!
The ploy is to re-channel the course.
Change the ingredients, proved poisonous,
Start a new experiment in earnest.

There is already a gossip
Spreading wildly in the lab;
The fruit of the labor is already showing
The much anticipated progress.
The infant year is going to be all right!

Written by Suvasini Subramaniam

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Is My Child To Make All MY Dreams Come True?

My Child isn’t my Easel to Paint,
Nor my Diamond to Polish!

My Child isn’t my Trophy to Flaunt,
Nor my Dummy to Taunt!

My Child isn’t my Badge or my Honor,
Nor my Respect that he/she must Protect!

My Child isn’t an Idea or a Fantasy,
Nor my Reflection or Legacy!

My Child isn’t my Puppet or my Project,
Nor my Pawn or my Cadet!

My Child is here to Fumble and Stumble
To get In and Out of Trouble!

My Child is here to Try,
To Fall and Cry!

My Child is here to Unravel the Mysteries,
To Educate Oneself and Rewrite Histories!

My Child is here to Make his/her own Choices,
To Exercise his/her Freewill and to Experience the Consequences!

As a Parent,
My Task is to make my Child Able and Capable,
To keep Aside my Ego and be by his/her Side!

My Task is to Guide and Educate,
To Let Be and Not Frustrate!

My Task is to Allow him/her to Ponder,
And see my Child Grow into Wonder!

– Unknown

Submitted by Santhosh Chinnappala

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