A wave of nostalgia

 

                                  A wave of nostalgia 

   

      I remember golden years of my childhood. In fifties, my music teacher would come to teach me classical music around 4.30 A.M. My mother would wake me up around 4 A. M, give me hot milk and make me sit before the harmonium. In the evening around 6 or maximum by 6.30 I was expected to reach home from my outdoor games, wash my feet and sit in the puja room with a lighted oil lamp glowing, and the fragrance of fresh flowers and sandal incense permeating all around. I had to bow down, sit, sing at least one or two classical songs learnt.

As I was growing up there was no time for morning learning and practice due to busy-study schedule and the music teacher also would come to teach after my school hours. But in the morning, the classical and devotional songs relayed on radio would be switched on from 4.30 AM to 5.45 A.M would be in the background. Daily singing at dusk was almost a duty. As a growing girl, I could never understand this stipulation, considering it almost an imposition. Later when I started appreciating music and longing to learn more with no time to practice, I realized the significance of it in the light of practice and could not but admire at the way how the entire scheme had been incorporated as a routine , an opportunity to cultivate voice and poise as a part of worship. Now a message forwarded to me on What’s App has opened my mind to the beauty of that routine.