Tuesday, December 08, 2009

WinEter thoughts

I understand only two kinds of wine. Wine I like and wine I don’t like. Which is why I’m not the kind of guy you should invite to a Wine Club gathering. I’ll head straight for the cheese and crackers rather than sip something that reminds me of the taste of iron window-grilles after a shower. (What, you never licked the grilles, say when you were about 5 years old?) The rest will gargle softly with half-open mouths, hold their glasses up to the light and talk about “legs” and “body”. Excuse me? Those are terms I associate with Jamie Lee Curtis, not with glorified fruit vinegar. And at my age, it’s a health hazard to even think of tasting her. (It doesn't help that she once said "In some circles, my Caesar salad is more famous than my body." I LOVE a good Caesar salad. Oh well.) [1]

I like some whites. (I’m referring to wine here, I must hasten to add.) But you know what I reelly reelly like? Sweet wines. Dessert wines. A good port, sherry, most of all a good Tokay. The last is something I can’t afford (hopeful look at the gentle reader, hint hint, and I wouldn’t mind if you throw in some good pipe tobacco as well), but I do still have some Cockburn’s and some genuine tawny (from Lisboa, no less, though aged in the cupboard and not the cask). So this winter, when my friends flock back to Cal for the Christmas vacation, I shall serve them whisky.

And keep ALL the nice sweet wine for myself!

[1] She also stars in one of my all-time favourite films.[2]

[2] YAY! Links AND footnotes, I’m getting back to Serious Blogging!

Sunday, December 06, 2009

Blast from the past

The tie is tatty, the suit shines with age. He’s 80 years old and needs regular dialysis. Every time he stood up from the red moulded-plastic chair on stage, he grimaced at the pain in his knees. At the mike, his mouth opened wide to show his tongue licking his lower lip. He seemed to suffer from twinges elsewhere as well; when he raised his hand to count off the beat at the start (always a simple count, not for him the “hwunn, two, HWUNN two THREE”), the arm never rose above the shoulder.

But then he raised his saxophone to his lips. And even now, even five decades and more after he started recording, we were in thrall from the first note. Sweet and true like honey on a winter morning, he held the melody for the 30 men on stage, some of them his comrades since 1958, some who were still in school when his friend and leader died in 1994, all of them united in memories. Manohari Singh – saxophonist, composer, grand old man of the orchestra and above all, comrade-in-arms to RD Burman for nearly 30 years, from the days of Chhote Nawaab­ to the swan song of 1942: a Love Story.

Ranged around him were 13 other stalwarts of the RD legend. Bhanu Gupta on rhythm guitar and harmonica, Ramesh Iyer on lead, Franco Vaz inside the circle of his drums, Kishore Sodha with his trumpet, Shyam Raj alternating between clarinet and tenor sax, Pradipta on the mandolin. It was … eerie. It was my childhood revived. For nearly 30 years now, RD Burman has had a pre-eminent niche in my personal pantheon. But frankly, I was at the concert not for the music but to satisfy my curiosity, to see the men (no women in those days!) who’d made the music. Then they struck up. Nothing very iconic, just the title song from Shaan with full oom-pah. And the hair stood on end on my forearms.

The entire evening was like that. Music straight up, no frills or showmanship, some memories of RDB from the MC, (Ankush, who works for Siemens in Pune but travels everywhere for RDB shows and memorabilia), and total involvement from the vocal audience. The concert was linked to the launch of a documentary on RDB by Brahmanand Singh. Funded by Shemaroo, this DVD release is in the same no-frills style – fixed-cam interviews of the people who knew RD, reminiscences of the way he made his music, intercut with some stock footage and some rare old photographs and recordings. Essential for RDB fans, pretty good even for others who may not share my passion.

The high point for me came right after the interval when, on request, they played the Sholay theme. Even unrehearsed, they were so GOOD. Good music and nostalgia, what a combination. They’ll be back next year – those of them who are still around. I’ll be waiting.