What would you expect in a picturesque village, thousand metres up in the Swiss Jura? Fresh air, pastures, tinkling cow bells, horses and mountains all around. If you’ve read Heidi, here it was. The real version of all the imagery that Johanna Spyri describes in her book. And then it snowed. Snow in October is rare, but it did, perhaps specially for me! Seeing snowfall for the first time was a miracle of an experience. The landscape was draped in white finery and the quaint village of Saignelégier wore this sublime look for a day or two. Praise be to the bounties of nature! As I walked to the Café du Soleil, which was the village’s most happening spot, something caught my eye. A shed with murals on the wall. Was I dreaming? Subramanya Bharati on that wall? I looked again and once again to convince myself. It was Bharati indeed although I could never fathom how he reached there and who brought him there while there was not an Indian to be seen within several a hundred kilometres. I was pleasantly surprised at this chance rendez-vous with the firebrand freedom poet. It was a message of sorts that my links with my roots and with Carnatic music can never be severed, even high up in the mountains, several thousands of kilometres away from home.
My trip in France and Switzerland was a travelling itinerary for the International Forum of Francophony. I went through many interesting towns, cities. I met wonderstruck children who listened to Carnatic music with their keen parents. I met lovers of Indian music and many first-time listeners as well. And all this through a string of ten French words that formed the core of this Forum and brought together artistes from more than thirty French speaking countries. What a joy to take Carnatic music to far off frontiers and to the common man who perhaps on his own, would never have never ventured to attend a Carnatic concert. The songs and ragas that moved people on this trip and touched a chord in their hearts were Annamacharya’s Sriman Narayana, the melodies of Kalyanavasantam, Bageshri and Useni to name a few.
I had the opportunity to work with Mimi Barthelémy, a singer and story teller of Haitian origin. Although we had exchanged thoughts on our collaboration by email, meeting and working with Mimi opened up a new world of art with her far reaching voice and delivery. She had a natural flair in her narration interspersed with her singing. Her story of a princess and the suitor who would wed her, reminded me of the Sita Svayamvara and we worked on this parallel. A Haitian traditional story and Yaaro Ivar Yaaro from the Ramanatakam was what it took for two continents and two art forms to meet — over the story of a princess, demi gods and untold wonders.
Winding our way through an often intense schedule, including ten stops in fifteen days, the Caravane, this constantly moving group, reached the final destination — Montreux. This Swiss town by the side of the blue lake Léman, the imposing castle of Chillon, bordered by mountains, just took my breath away. I went there twice during this trip. Once to meet my good friends Raj and Pia for a nice chai with croissants in their cosy home. We were spoilt by the friendly owner of the wine press right outside their home, bearing crates of fresh, delicious grapes, who handed us two baskets. I returned to Montreux, in a week again. This time around, the mountains wore caps of snow, the air was chilly and the town was abuzz with the important Summit of francophony that brought heads of state of francophone nations together. Montreux was festive. The magnificent stage by the lakeside with impeccable arrangements and the very helpful and ever smiling Swiss technician Julien, made it memorable. As I sang, I could see the imposing landscape around me. Despite the cold draft, it was an uplifting experience. It is a deep and stirring music, confided Athena the Greek girl, whose eyes were moist as I explained and sang the many moods of the woman in love. Yes indeed it is a profound art. How else could a heritage nourished by many thousands of years be?
Sometimes it rained, sometimes it was cold, and occasionally the sun came out to smile on us. I met many simple and kind people who brought warmth even when the sun wasn’t always there. Whether it was Pierre who untiringly and ceaselessly helped me with my heavy suitcases before I could even ask or Pauline who drove me to see the snow filled valley, or Andri who ran to find the adapter just at the nick of time, it only proved that the common thread of inherent goodness binds humans wherever they come from, whatever colour they have on their skin, whatever language they speak.
Dr Vasumathi Badrinathan is an eminent Carnatic vocalist based in Mumbai. She can be contacted on vasu@vasumathi.net