The importance of being Alamelu Mani

There is no greater state to attain in Life than when you are able to recognize that you are merely an instrument for divinity to work through you, for your spiritual talent to flow through you.

A couple of evenings ago, my soulmate Vaani and I visited Chennai’s famed Ragasudha Hall, an intimate performance space in Mylapore. It hosts music concerts all through the year. And particularly during Chennai’s music and dance season in December, it is abuzz with some great music and performances.

When Vaani and I decided to go to Ragasudha, we were simply hoping to listen to some good music. We did not know who was performing in the prime time concert slot that evening. Before we entered the hall, we paused to look at the board that lists the day’s performances. It read: Grand concert by Alamelu Mani.

Who is Alamelu Mani?

“Who is Alamelu Mani,” we wondered, as we seated ourselves.

A felicitation ceremony was underway on stage just then. The speaker, dancer Nandini Ramani, was paying glowing tributes to her guru. We soon reckoned that the guru was an old lady who was seated on the stage. What was striking was that the old lady was unmoved by all that was being spoken about her. She sat there, looking content; perhaps even a tad uncomfortable with all the attention she was receiving. When the old lady delivered her acceptance speech, she was modest and brief; she graciously thanked her gurus for their guidance and blessings.

We soon gathered that she was Alamelu Mani.

I thought to myself: “Wow! This lady looks very old, very senior. She must be in her late seventies, early eighties. Is she the one who is going to perform?”

Intrigued, I googled her name. I was amazed by what I quickly read up online. Now, there were very few links on her. But the couple of links that I read got me acquainted with this quiet, grand, old lady:

• She’s 87.
• Music has guided, led and shaped her whole Life.
• She’s been performing for over 75 years now.
• She’s been teaching music at the South Indian School Of Music for close to 60 years; she’s the principal of the school.
• She lost her husband, H.A.S.Mani, when she was barely 28. He was the founder of the music school and was the one who had initiated Alamelu into carnatic music.
• She’s the mother of acclaimed singer Hariharan.

I shared the links I had read with Vaani. And urged her to look them up too. As the felicitations continued, Vaani and I hung on to every word about Alamelu. One of the speakers called her a banyan tree that had embraced many, many students and shaped their musical journeys. Another speaker called her a maestro and crowned her the “queen of raga purvikalyani” – saying none can sing the raga like the way she can.

A grand concert, indeed

And then Alamelu performed. Her performance was a quiet celebration of her mastery, her poise and her grace. It was devoid of any frills. It was precise, wholesome and endearing.

I must confess that I don’t know carnatic music at all. I can’t recognize compositions and certainly can’t tell whether a raga or a kriti is rendered well. So, I am not an aficionado. But I truly relish being at concerts. Almost always, I am in admiration of the rigor and precision that singers and performers bring to a concert.

Despite my inability to understand carnatic music, I can tell when the music connects with me. Alamelu Mani’s music connected with me that evening. Instantaneously. Witnessing her performance was like watching a batter on song in cricket. Alamelu was fluent. It was clear to me that her music was flowing through her.

There is no greater state to attain in Life than when you are able to recognize that you are merely an instrument for divinity to work through you, for your spiritual talent to flow through you. Alamelu exemplifies being in that state when she performs. There’s an effortlessness, there’s a joyful flow, which transcends the human form. This happens only when the divine is expressing itself through you.

As Vaani and I soaked in her music, we realized that the hall had filled up. Some of the people in the audience were in a state of rapture. And others were raising occasional toasts to Alamelu’s musical nuances, to her brilliance: They were either nodding feverishly in appreciation or were blissfully, unwittingly, making soft, affectionate, remarks in celebration.

I could discern that this experience was truly precious for anyone who was in the hall. I sat back to reflect on the magic and beauty of the moment: When we had walked in, we had no clue who Alamelu was. And here we were, basking in her aura, mesmerized by her mastery, her story – and her music.

There is a phrase in Urdu, “gustakhi mauf”. It means, “forgive (my/our) insolence.” Vaani and I seek forgiveness from Alamelu Mani, and from all connoisseurs of carnatic music, for us both not knowing of Alamelu earlier.

Alamelu Mani, accompanied by R.K.Shriramkumar on the violin and K.Arun Prakash on the mridangam.

Why Alamelu Mani is important

We now surely know whoAlamelu Mani is. Plus, we also know why she is important. Indeed. Not just to the world of carnatic music, but to all of us.

In today’s hurried, impatient, world, she reflects a tehraav, a rare stillness. While everyone is chest-thumping on social media and crying hoarse saying, “Look at me, look at how great I am”, Alamelu makes no noise. She is unpretentious, humble and, in fact, invisible. She has no internet footprint to speak of. Period. This, despite all her experience, expertise and influence in the world of carnatic music. Now, that’s true greatness.

Someone performing a full-length concert at 87 is rare. In being able to do that, Alamelu showcases the enormous potential that the human form offers us if it is looked after well. It enables us to keep going despite the storms we have to weather in this journey called Life. It enables us to live well, to live happily and to express ourselves creatively. That’s one more context in which Alamelu is inspiring.

When an artiste offers their spiritual talent boundarylessly, limitlessly, without any expectation of any return, it shows. It shows in the way they are – dignified, calm, content and soaked in bliss. They glow with an inner joy. This is how Alamelu shone last evening.

Vaani and I can relate to that inner glow. As the happynesswalas^TM, we believe our Life’s purpose is Inspiring ‘Happyness’™!

The experience of getting to know of Alamelu, and of being touched by her music, is one more important milestone on our journey of distilling lessons on Life and Happiness from human stories.

Clearly, someone like Alamelu Mani is a beacon of light and hope in this broken world. In fact, every once in a way, it takes an Alamelu Mani to make a statement, firmly, strongly, with the sheer power of their spiritual talent. A resounding statement that drowns and silences the cacophony that has rendered most of the world tone-deaf.

Alamelu’s way of Life and her music remind us that to live fully, to thrive, we need to have devotion and discipline. Her Life teaches us that you don’t need acclaim or validation, you don’t need followership and you don’t need fame. You don’t need too much money either – just some money to provide for a few basics will do. What you need though is to follow your bliss: Do only what you love doing and do it diligently. All else always follows. This is intelligent living. It holds the key to contentment and Happiness.

The importance of being Alamelu Mani is more relevant than ever in today’s world. It is not just in her music, not just in her being a great teacher, or a powerful performer, it is in her very being. Even as everyone is rushing to become someone (else) or achieve something, she’s just being who she is, doing what loves doing. And she is doing it so, so well.

That is why she is important.

Additional, relevant, links:

• Rise In Love  – a 2015-documentary, made by a young filmmaker Shalu C. While focusing on the journey of Vaani and AVIS, the film explores how love thrives in the face of adversity. Viewing time: 30.18 minutes.
• Fall Like A Rose Petal  – AVIS’ first book. It is the true story of AVIS’ and Vaani’s Life. It captures learnings from the excruciating, fascinating, Life-changing, experience – a crippling bankruptcy – that they are still going through.
• Click here to know more about the happynesswalas ^TM, Vaani and AVIS.
• If you wish to seek Vaani’s and AVIS’ perspectives on a Life challenge you are faced with, please reach out here – Let’s Talk Happyness ^TM!

Of Rithvik, Sandeep, you and me – and why comparisons are always wasteful!

Just let the song in you play – it doesn’t really matter what others play or have to say!

The past few days we have been doing a round of the free kutcheris on the Madras Music Season circuit. I don’t understand Carnatic music the way it should be – I don’t know how to identify ‘raagams’, I don’t know the nuances of the art form, I don’t know the compositions, in fact I know precious little about the genre. Yet I lose myself whenever I find any music moving me from within. Immersion, I guess, works for me with music, more than academic understanding, more than being a connoisseur. The concerts this season that I have so far been to featured the veteran Hyderabad Brothers and the young, happening, Sandeep Narayan and Rithvik Raja.

Sandeep and Rithvik have both been guests on my popular Bliss Catchers Event Series. Sandeep is a disciple of Sanjay Subrahmanyan; Rithvik has been learning from T.M.Krishna. According to me, both the young artistes are very versatile, hugely talented singers. But I often find people comparing them to their gurus and to each other. I find such comparisons really misplaced and quite unnecessary. Someone who was in the audience in Sandeep’s concert remarked that he’s “better” than Rithvik – and “that’s because Sanjay’s better than TMK”. A FB post remarked that Rithvik’s “soft-natured rendering” was “nothing” in comparison to Sandeep’s “aggressive” stage presence. Then there are those who lament about how TMK does more things than just sing. And how they hope “at least” Rithvik will stay the course on music. Of course, there are those who swear by TMK, and “therefore”, by Rithvik. They are quick to add that Rithvik will emerge as the numero uno soon!

To those soaked in the fever of the Music Season these comments may appear to be part of the usual sabha canteen banter. But to me they are symptomatic of a social trend, a malaise – which is to treat Life as a race, as a competition, where someone necessarily has to trounce someone to win; which also means that one has to always be better than the rest! I know Sandeep and Rithvik personally. And I see no such streak in them to compete at the cost of the other. I know their gurus too and I have never sensed that they may have inculcated such a crass urge in their disciples. Simply, to me, comparing people and passing judgment is truly the bane of our times.

Why can’t people just be allowed to be who they are? Each one is unique. And has an individual way of expressing themselves. Why don’t we celebrate that expression than invest time in analyzing and drawing meaningless inferences? This tendency to compare people does not restrict itself to the Carnatic music scene alone. In every walk of Life people are expected to be like others. Junior Bachchan, Abhishek, is always measured through the prism of his father’s greatness; just as Parineeti Chopra is often judged against Priyanka Chopra’s popularity and performances. Or consider this one: isn’t Asha Bhonsle a better singer than the more feted Lata Mangeshkar, because Asha continues to be relevant at 80+? Virat Kohli is always reviewed basis two benchmarks: Dhoni’s captaincy and Tendulkar’s batting genius. Already the hyper-opinionated janata darbar, a.k.a Twitteratti, is debating whether Ravichandran Ashwin can ever be better than Erapalli Prasanna or Bishen Bedi! NaMo’s chest-thumping is always seen as “superior” compared to Manmohan Singh’s dignified silence. To be sure, comparisons are not a new-age, social media phenomenon. Social media is only a new platform that makes comparisons, trial by public, judgments, both visible and rabid. As a child I was always asked by my parents why I couldn’t be like my cousins – who studied well, who got good marks and who never gave their parents any “tension”. Even now, in fact, I guess this issue rankles my parents, that I am unlike my “well-settled” cousins; that I am in debt and that I am yet to carve out a retirement plan or create assets (Read more on why my parents may feel so here: Fall Like A Rose Petal).

But why? Why does one have to be like someone else or be better than another? Why can’t one just be who she or he is?

A tragic fall-out of this tendency to compare people is that pretty soon, subconsciously, the urge to review yourself basis others creeps in; you start taking those social pronouncements seriously. If someone has more likes or followers than you have, you feel disillusioned. If you have more than others, you think you are the child of a bigger God! But please remember, either pole is a risky one to climb and hold on to: if you consider yourself better than someone, beware of hubris; and if you think someone’s better than you, beware of jealousy or depression getting the better of you! Bottomline: comparison is a zero-sum game; it ruins inner peace!

Going back to where I started, using the music analogy, let me just remind that there’s a song in each of us. And yours is unique to you, as mine is to me. So, why not just let it play? Won’t more original music, from more people, make our world nicer, merrier, happier?

PS: If you liked this blogpost, please share it to help spread the learning it carries!

There’s a T.M.Krishna in you too, wanting to break free, waiting to sing ‘your’ song

Learn to accept people for who they are. Don’t try to get them to fit into your idea of who you want them to be.

T.M.Krishna’s interview yesterday to Parshathy J Nath of The Hindu got me thinking on something that’s been plaguing us as a people and as society! As the prelude to the interview suggests, here’s a man about whom everyone’s got an opinion. Some like him for who he is. Others think he’s a maverick. Still others believe Krishna thrives on sensationalism. A few even insist that Krishna is here to ruin tradition, culture and everything that Carnatic music represents. Over all, there appears to be a sense of “What do you do with a problem called Krishna?” that envelopes all discourses and public opinion on the man.

I am sorry, but I don’t get this.

Why shouldn’t Krishna be who he is? Why should he be who you want him to be? Why should he be in ‘the mold’ of ‘tradition and culture’ just because he is a Carnatic musician?

I must quickly offer a disclaimer here – I am not a Carnatic music buff. I don’t know or appreciate Krishna’s music the way his rasikas would or the way his critics would dissect it. I am raising these questions more from the point of view of inviting all of us to learn to appreciate the diversity among us. The intolerance that we show to a Krishna is actually symptomatic of the intolerance that is festering in us for anything, or anyone, that doesn’t fit ‘the mold’. This is perhaps why we resist the idea of same sex relationships or the idea of eating beef or the idea of inclusiveness with regard to religion.

Let’s examine how we think and behave as individuals and as a society. Let’s begin with our families first. Expecting people at home to be any different from who they are is surely what is making our relationships messy. Despite all the closeness among people in a family, each one still has very different ways of thinking and living. Maturity demands that in such situations you simply let people be.

A friend of mine recently shared that he was having “serious” challenges in “controlling” his 18-year-old son. The boy apparently had little interest in academics. And his parents’ paranoia was only making him more rebellious. I told my friend that the problem lay in him trying to “control” his son. I have found that as children grow up to be young adults, parents too must grow up. We have to recognize that our ‘kids’, when they are young adults, don’t need us to support or protect them. What they expect from us is that we respect their integrity, their intellect and their privacy. Being available to them is what they will value more than being there all the time, all over, and around, them!

I have another friend who has a pretty interesting way of dealing with diversity in his immediate circle. Within his family, he has told everyone that they are free to do whatever they want as long as they don’t interfere with whatever he is doing. Everyone meets every quarter and reviews this arrangement in a mature manner and if there are new agreements to be arrived at, they do draw them up. Result: there’s complete peace and harmony even as people do their own stuff. For instance, my friend is either out trekking or racing in car rallies, while his wife undertakes pilgrimages even as she runs a business, and his children are busy building their own careers having chosen their companions without having to toe a ‘family’ line. The family does converge on common vacation times annually or simply gets together some weekends to goof off. But they do it more as friends than as people having to live under the influence or shadow of each other.

People, including children, don’t need to, and can’t, be controlled. They can only be conversed with. You can share a point of view. Either there can be agreement or disagreement. If you disagree, fine, agree to do so. Recognize that it is perfectly fine to disagree. Just don’t grieve over the disagreement. If you want to avoid feeling miserable, don’t force-fit people into ‘the mold’.

So, in my humble opinion, the problem is not with Krishna, or others, who have dared to march to a different drummer, to a different beat. The problem is with us – with you, with me. In fact, if you look within, there’s a T.M.Krishna in you too, wanting to break free, waiting to sing your song. You are miserable only because you are worried about society – log kya kahenge, what will people say? Let go of that need for social approval and let your music flow. And see how you feel!!

Bottomline: We forget that the magic and beauty of Life lies in the uniqueness that Life nurtures and offers; it clearly is not in ‘the mold’ that society has craftily invented and imposed. So, let’s celebrate the diversity in people, thought and experiences around us.

Go where your music is taking you

Do what makes you come alive – and don’t bother about what the world has to say.

Many a time, we make choices cautiously wanting them to be correct and acceptable in a social context. So, while we may not be entirely happy doing what we have chosen to do, we end up doing it to maintain our status or wanting to “look good” among family, friends and peers. This kind of posturing may make us look socially appropriate but almost always leaves us totally unhappy. Happiness really is about being able to say and do what you really want to and what you love doing!

T.M.Krishna is in the news again. This time for his choice of not wanting to perform in the December Music Season in Chennai anymore. Obviously his fans are upset. But there are those too who think Krishna’s lost it, that he’s become arrogant and that all this “drama” is part of his “radical, sensational” marketing strategy. Some even term his recent choices and actions gimmickry.

T M Krishna – in “One with Music” Photo Courtesy – Internet

I think everyone’s being judgmental here and in a sense some people are surely being unfair to Krishna. Undoubtedly Krishna is a public figure, an exceptionally talented singer with divinity oozing in his craft – so his fans do expect him to be a certain way. Historically, the Chennai Music Season is the Haj of Carnatic Music – people give an arm and a leg to perform here. So, it does seem so very strange and unusual that a singer who grew in acclaim, thanks to the performances at the Season over the years, should now choose to stay away from it. The best way to look at Krishna’s choice is to see it exactly the way it is – as an unusual one! Let’s not color it with any opinion. Also, excuse me, isn’t there a personal choice that we all have a right to make? Is it necessary that you must always be wedded to doing things a certain way and in ways in which everyone else is doing them? I personally feel Krishna’s choice is driven by his bliss – he is going wherever his music – the music within him – is taking him. And that is indeed the way to live Life. To be able to do what makes you come alive. To do what you love doing.

When we live for social gratification, when we live to “look good”, we are not living – we are merely existing. We suffer, we feel miserable and we eventually lead hollow lives. Is there a point in such living? All you have is this one lifetime. And if you can’t live it the way you want to, doing what you love, what is the point? As Frank Sinatra sang (‘This is all I Ask’, April 1965) so beautifully, “And let the music play as long as there’s a song to sing.” So, whoever you are, be inspired by Sinatra, be inspired by Krishna, go where your music is taking you, don’t bother about what the world is saying. Ultimately, it’s your Life!

Parimala and the art of humility

The best way to live is to live humbly, being who you are and enjoying who you are!

Parimala Srinivasan

I read a story in today’s Hindu, on someone we knew closely, Parimala Srinivasan, who had passed away, at 81, earlier this week. Chennai historian and columnist V.Sriram has penned the beautiful tribute to Parimala, who he calls “an ardent aficionado” of Carnatic Music. While my wife and I have known Parimala for 20 years now, Sriram’s piece surprised us – we discovered so many unique aspects about her Life that we ended up wondering if we at all knew the “real” Parimala. To us Parimala was the simple, doting mother and grandmother with the ever-benign smile. She was the epitome of warmth, compassion and enthusiasm. The only line in Sriram’s piece I could relate to instantaneously, for instance, is this: “To her, Life was an extraordinary celebration.” Until I read Sriram’s piece this morning, I didn’t know that Parimala was taught music by the legendary Ariyakudi Ramanuja Iyengar; I didn’t know that the other maestro of Carnatic music G.N.Balasubramaniam was her mentor and guide; I didn’t know that ace violinist T.N.Krishnan was more than just a musician-friend – he called himself her family member; I did not know that she held a record for attending concerts as a rasikafor over 58 years at the Music Academy during the annual Madras Marghazi season; and I didn’t know that she ran an all-women sabha called Raga Tharangini for over 40 years. How would I know all this about Parimala unless she told us any of this? The truth is, she never spoke about herself. She was always in awe and admiration of people, Life and events around her. And so this is my key takeaway from this wonderful lady’s Life – stay humble and simply enjoy who you are!

I come from a family where bragging over hollow achievements is a favorite pastime. In fact my awakening to remain modest was spurred my utter distaste for some of family members’ tendency to insensitively blow their own trumpets. So, when I discover now that the lady we were so close to, was not just a doyen among Carnatic music rasikas, but was a celebrity in her own right, I feel so blessed. I remember the day, two Decembers ago, when I delivered my “Fall Like A Rose Petal” Talk (based, like my Book of the same name, on the lessons that my wife and I learned from a Life-changing experience – a bankruptcy!) Parimala was in the audience that evening. When I finished my Talk, she called out to me and my wife. She held our hands and said, “The greatest joy in Life is to be able to live and face it together. You both are blessed to have each other. You will overcome your problems and come out of this crisis soon.”  She had tears of love in her eyes as she touched our heads in a blessing.    

To stay humble is an art. Because even if you want to stay humble, your mind will push you to believe that you are causing all your achievements. Only a truly evolved person can, craftily, dismiss the mind’s seemingly well-reasoned claims and simply be. Simply being means to continuously look at Life with amazement and wonder. It means to know that whatever good is happening to you, whoever is praising you, whoever is flocking to you – everything and everyone is transient. (To be sure, the opposite is also true – and is transient again.) Simply being means choosing to be unmoved by Life’s colors and flavors. Parimala, to me, personified humility – a trait that all of us can aspire for, and someday soon, with inspiration and blessings from her, possess.

Make your doing, your being

Whatever you do, immerse yourself in it – and your will be one with it. That’s how you make doing, being!

This past Sunday, I read an article by the enfant terrible of Carnatic music, T.M.Krishna, in the Sunday Magazine of The Hindu. No, Krishna was not waxing eloquent on music. Instead he wrote, provoking thought in the bargain, about how “great sportsmen and artists share a transformational quality”. His piece, ‘Beyond the Boundary’ examined if Sachin Tendulkar’s technique is really an art form. Krishna wrote: “I have watched the phenomenal Sachin Tendulkar almost right through his career, especially in his Test innings… there have been phases in his great innings when he seemed to dissolve into cricket itself…. In this state, not just cricket or sport but Life itself seemed to be one uninterrupted flow…. The man and his bat became one; the ball was not an object that needed to be negotiated, caressed or decimated; the bowler, not an enemy; and his wicket, no point of reference…. What actually happened was that everything merged. Sachin became one with that existence and, as a beholder, I saw Life’s beauty in its most natural self, without any burden of names, identities, action or result…To me, at that instant, even the fact that it was Sachin batting was immaterial. This was an artist lost in his moment of Life, living it to its fullest.”

Krishna’s keen observation and perspective there has been simply, beautifully, explained by Osho, the Master, thus: “Forget the dancer, the center of the ego. Become the dance. Dance so deeply that you completely forget that you are dancing and begin to feel that you “are”the dance. Dance so totally…because the dancer-dance division can exist only when you are not total in it. The dancer must go until only the dance remains.”  

In the Sufi tradition, dervishes of the Mevlevi order, perform the ‘sama’, or dancing meditation, where they abandon their ‘nafs’or egos or personal desires, by spinning in repetitive circles, symbolic of the planets in the solar system orbiting the sun. The dancer is merely a metaphor that Osho and the Sufis use. You could be a cook, a gardener, a writer, an orator, a clerk, a traffic policeman, a painter, a singer, a truck driver or a nurse. Who you are is immaterial. How you “are” (being) who you are is important. Of course, choosing to do what you absolutely love doing, is critical for losing yourself – for making your doing, your being! While it may be possible to even immerse yourself while loving what you are doing, your inner joy is always several notches higher when you have chosen to do onlywhat you love!

But your Life may not always pan out that way. As it turned out to be with my father. He is an amazing Carnatic vocalist himself – having been trained for over two decades by an accomplished Guru. But way back in the ‘60s, the pressures of having to raise a family forced him to seek a career in the private sector textile industry, and later with the government. “Financial security and stability” were chosen over “what gave him joy”. I don’t understand the nuances of Carnatic music as much as I should. But over the early years of my growing up, and even now, when he is well past 75, I have found that my dad always lost himself to his singing whenever he was or is having a stressful time. In those times that I have watched him sing to himself at home, I found him immersed in the music. In fact, I believe, he always became the song. On the few occasions when he has performed concerts too, I have found the singer (in him) disappearing and only the song remaining. I cite his example here because you may not often get to make a Life – and living – out of what you love. Yet it is imminently possible that if you still do what you love, even if it is done infrequently, it can help you just be! And that just being is happiness!

As I grew older and my understanding of Life evolved, I have come to realize that when you don’t force yourself to do anything, Life flows through you. The cosmic energy then expresses itself through you. Your doing then becomes your being. That state, when you are in unison with the Universe, is what is also known as bliss! And as you can see, from the expressions of Krishna, Tendulkar, Osho and my dad, that state is imminently attainable!

Don’t let any irritant interfere with your living, your Life, fully!

Smile and feel your anger slink away!

Most of us get irritated with the small stuff. And it is how we deal with the small stuff that defines how we deal with the big stuff in our lives. Small stuff are the everyday irritants __ a flat tyre, a delayed flight, your smart phone or your computer hanging, an endless, boring, listless meeting, someone jumping the queue in which you are standing! All of these, and several more, punctuate our daily lives with alarming frequency. And each time we lose our temper or even feel irritated, we are losing that many more seconds, minutes, hours and days of our Life to stuff that won’t matter at all in the long run!

Junior Balamuralikrishna

Yesterday, a young, talented musician taught me an important lesson in how to deal with such small stuff. We were at a Carnatic music concert by the gifted artiste, whom The Hindu calls, Junior M Balamuralikrishna (so that he is not confused with the maestro and Padma Vibhushan awardee who goes by the same name). He was outstanding. I don’t follow the nuances of Carnatic music the way connoisseurs do, but I do know that there is a thing called concert etiquette. This, I believe, is to be normally adhered to by both organizers and audiences. Yesterday’s concert was organized to celebrate the 30^th wedding anniversary of a couple we know very well. So, even as the concert was on, several late comers, walked up to the couple seated in the front row to greet them. Flowers were given, hugs were exchanged and wishes showered. Clearly the occasion’s spirit dwarfed the concert brilliance. Impolitely so too. Yet the artiste, Junior Balamuralikrishna, went on singing. What intrigued me was that he smiled each time he found the activity in front of him distractive or disturbing. I found it strange the first few times that he did it. So I thought it to be a coincidence. But, as I started to observe him closely, I discovered that there was a pattern to his smiling. He sang, I assume, flawlessly, immersed in his own joy of being able to create such divine music. And he smiled only when he felt disturbed or, if I have read his mind correctly, when he was irritated. As the concert progressed, something even more bizarre happened. The audio system at the venue acted up and at regular intervals started to give a shrill, shocking feedback through its speakers. I am sure any other artiste would have lost it for the number times this happened. But Junior Balamuralikrishna simply smiled each time, still singing! Then someone insensitively, perhaps inadvertently too, dropped a stainless steel tumbler. The tumbler landed on the ground a few times,  before someone grabbed it, and in that time it was such a jarring interruption. Everyone in the audience turned in the direction of the sound. But not Junior Balamuralikrishna. His smile only got wider and I could see the wonder in his eyes! He went on singing. But if I could have read his smile this time, it was saying: “Wow! Now, that’s interesting!” It was a beautiful, humbling and educative experience to watch this young man systematically turn sources of intense irritation into sources of amusement, wonder and amazement.

After the concert, I caught up with him. And asked him how he managed to smile every time he could have chosen to react with anger, provoked by the irritants. He replied, smiling, “I have been singing for 18 years now. I can’t let these (irritants) come in the way of my singing.”

The lesson for me was simple: don’t ever let any irritant interfere with your living, your Life, fully! And there’s a simple way to define an irritant, the small stuff, and differentiate it from a problem or a challenge. I think it was ‘Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff’ author Richard Carlson who said that an irritant very simply is stuff that you will not remember at all a year from now. When you employ this criteria, more than 80 % of stuff that irritate you, bug you, bother you, worry you and clutter your mindspace, will fall in that IGNORE and SMILE bucket. Learn to smile at them rather than be enslaved by them! Only then will you live a fuller, meaningful and trouble-free Life! Besides, when you learn to smile at these daily irritants, your ability to deal with the remaining 20 % __ Life’s really big challenges__goes up phenomenally. (There’s way to deal with the big stuff too in Life. But that’s matter for another post, another day!) Even so, it surely makes sense using your available energy in fixing the big stuff in Life than frittering it all away on non-meaningful, unproductive things!  Doesn’t it?