Pandit Ranjan Sajan Mishra in concert: An uplifting experience

I went to the concert with much cynicism and came out invigorated with all things noble and uplifting. That was the magic of Pandit Rajan Sajan Mishra who are part of a 300-year old lineage of Khayal singing of the Banaras gharana.

The Mishra brothers started the evening with Raag Bhimpalashi. As they started performing the alap, I closed my eyes and suddenly found myself transported to the world of Richard Bach's Jonathan Livingstone Seagull. I shared the ecstasy of Jonathan's successful maiden flight. How does a seagull feel when he first learns to fly - achievement of mastering the impossible, ecstasy of a new found libre and the uncertainty of what to do with it, trepidation of the non-conformist. The alap musically captured those mixed feelings much like human angst captured by Edvard Munch in 'The Scream'.

As the evening progressed from Raag Dhaani to Tappa, my soul escaped my body and joined Shelley's skylark on its upward flight to the highest point in the sky. As the brothers were dwelling on the Tappa it was necessary for me to hush my tumultuous inner self to enjoy the contrast - the restlessness outside (in the form of the Tappa's notes) and the queit silence within. That was a beautiful moment that will remain with me for many years to come.

After the 30 minute recess, the brothers resumed with Raag Bihaagra. The alap now took the form of a raging fire burning high and just like that the fire melted away to a placid river that was engaged with me in a frivolous banter. It then grew more sombre with the lightness of water casting a vaneer on the surface. It was as if the river grew older and wiser for she had seen too much - the changing fortunes, the trails and tribulations of the civilizations that bustled on her banks, thrived on her generosity and then disappeared into oblivion.

The brothers then moved onto Raag Kamod. They personified Kamod as a woman, of noble pride but with a pining heart wasting away her years trying to appease her beloved and win him over. For does not life cease to exist as love withers away or perhaps for Ghalib life itself withers away in mirthful satisfaction on the first sight of love.

The brothers concluded their performance with a Gurunanak Bhajan that brought back memories of Carl Sagan's Pale Blue Dot.

"Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentrated all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonor'd, and unsung."

Sir Walter Scott

I walked to the stage and touched the feet of Pandit Rajan Mishra in reverence of an artist whose art was too lofty to contain itself in our pale blue dot or the universe abound. The grandeur of that art humbled me in its majestic presence.