Passion Price And Pragmatism

Something on your “to-do list” that never gets done.

Man proposes but God disposes.

I had elaborate plans for the post retirement phase of life – almost like a grand vacation.

But all is not seem to be happening quite the way I visualised.

One of many such dreams of mine was resuming my riyaaz, that is, the timely and disciplined practice of vocal chords for classical music. It requires getting up at an ungodly hour in the morning depending upon the raga you wish to practice. If it’s a raga of the twilight hours you have to abandon all your chores and sit down with your base instrument, harmonium or taanpura, in a room, preferably locked from inside, so that nobody can disturb you.

It has been instilled in our grey cells from infancy that devotion to classical music (vocal or instrumental), is nothing less than a spiritual sadhana or single-minded and deep involvement which may even, ideally, call for renunciation of all other wordly attachments.

For a person, who has to look after his/her family and shoulder responsibilities, it is not possible to indulge in one’s passion at the expense of all other duties.

However, there are exceptions to prove the rule.

My mother’s neuropsychiatrist nurtures many hobbies. One of them is music. He sings well. For quite sometime he has been appearing in competitive shows but leaving midway because of familial and professional demands.

Now, he has decided to follow his passion wholeheartedly. Last I heard he was all set to buy a particular harmonium from Kolkata on his guru or teacher’s advice, which costs a hefty figure. I would have lauded his efforts but over the years I have learnt to be pragmatic. I doubt how wise it is to spend so much on one’s hobby. He is in his prime. Perhaps he can afford to follow his dream. Hobbies are never inexpensive.

But he has a school going daughter too whom he has to give proper education and marry off. Of course, he falls in the double income group – both he and his wife are doctors in practice.

But I am habituated to worry. So, I do worry. I worry where his passion is going to lead him to. I worry that everyone should save for a red letter day. I worry whether he will be able to fulfill his dreams under pressures of his regular practice as a specialist and looking after his daughter and aged parents.

Nonetheless, I wish him all the very best.

At least, he is able to do what I am not, even at a stage where I should have sufficient will and time to pick up the threads which I had let loose a long, long time back.

But my riyaaz languishes till now in my To-do List. I have given away my base instruments to the nearby Gurdwara a few years back as donations. My voice is no more musical and will require rigorous hours of practice which may come in the way of many other comparatively important and immediate work.

Settling down in your second innings also requires time. Once I do so I shall sing to my heart’s content without worrying what my neighbours think of me.

And that’s a promise for sure.

Till then…

This is the harmonium which is to be shipped from Kolkata. Impressive, isn’t it?