reflections on watching an archival documentary on the legend of Carnatic music, M.S.Subbalakshmi.
A voice with the naughty twinkle in its cords. A small child throwing tantrums at every octave. That is the agility with which she sings. M.S.Subbalaxmi. with the springing curls of greying hair, she smiles with the mellowing touch of honey dripping gently. A nascent newborn gleams beneath the face constantly . the lips cant wait to enthrall listeners with its deep nurtured musical treasure.The nose studs gleam in the sunshine of her voice like divine materialisations of her mind. There is a stubbornness in her notes, a commanding velocity that interweave you and me into into its adventures; up high scaling the moon, rising over the valleys of slumbering lives, delving into the depths of curiosity, we sail ,fly, run, skip , hop and jump with her , bedazzled by the onslaught of yet another surprise package of musical jigsaws. Black kohl eyes widen to inhale the minutest gift life has to offer.With a sincerity that frames every picture of her, M.S lives on, stubborn in her renditions.
She is the first , the youngest child in house who wakes up before anyone else and declares
"Suprabhatam', its time to rise"