Maeshtgaru (a kid version of Master-garu), Attayyagaru and Ammammagaru
- this is how the student family has always addressed them. More so
for me. Because, I grew up in their laps as an infant in the coconut
grove filled hazi-aar compound in kozikode. We lived together, only
physically separated by a few houses.
Can't describe how much I missed them when they moved to Vizag. Even
gave up learning music for couple of years until we moved to Vizag
eventually.
Attayyagaru, mom and I would ride the auto-rickshaw; in case of a
medical emergency in kozikode days or it could have very well been for
my school uniform. Or probably one of us was buying a new kitchen
appliance or may be just grocery or baby food.
I always had to be the person holding the little finger walking along
with mastergaru. The topic we shared could be anything from singing an
alankaram in some random - or so I thought - ragam of his choice, my
school sports day, how an automated sruti apparatus would be a great
invention, or why Shakespeare used double superlatives. but it also
could have been about my height or beard and the best design for a
shaver, all about audio equipment, or the ideal wood for a sound post;
an insatiable curiosity to constantly learn new things.
After my kid sister was born, we shared everything including
mastergaru and attayyagaru's unbounded love. To us, Sarma was a new
comer till he became one of us and thus indistinguishable. Much later,
Uma's entry, though, would be even more dramatic. Sambu mamayya,
maeshtgaru's youngest brother got married after we relocated to Vizag
and Attayyagaru, ammammagaru and mom found me crying uncontrollably.
I didn't want the "pelli" (marriage) to happen to him. Why? Because,
these same folks had told me that Pelli meant a funny punishment
involving dumping buckets of hot water on the mischief maker.
What I found eventually though was, now Sambu mamayya had less or no
time to spend with us kids.
Inspiration could have well been guruji's last name.
Mastergaru beyond all reasonable doubt is truly the epitome of the
ideal qualities of a guru, universally expounded in any great
scripture.
I humbly bow my head at his lotus feet, for ever, in deep reverence
and with a thousand other emotions.
Oh, by the way, we have still not been able to figure out how he knew
exactly when some one probably in the back row in a group class, made
a bowing mistake, played a bit tentatively or looked at the book to
"read" an unlearnt lesson, or that it was I that was playing in the
mud beneath the shade of his window on a sunday when he would be
listening to the swanky HMV thermionic valve radio, and call me out to
bring my violin for a class. There was no schedule. We just simply
loved it and would eagerly rush for a class - didn't matter if it was
before school, after school or some other time.
According to me, our guru is the best!
Oh! Lord, we need more of his tribe.
best regards.....raghu
