It would be hard to not write about Pandit Ravi Shankar, but equally hard to write about him, as the media has left no information untouched about the legendary musician. Still, from a musician’s perspective, I would like to share a few thoughts.

In recent times, after the immortal M.S. Subbulakshmi, I doubt if the nation was ever as moved by the passing away of a classical musician. Newspapers were generous in print space they provided to analysing different angles to the musician; television channels were not left behind in their tribute.
What really made the man the legend that he was? Above all, I would name his courage and risk-taking ability. He ventured and forayed into avenues musicians had not tread on before. He boldly invented; he was an iconoclast. He did not really worry about frontal criticism or things people said behind his back. He had a dream that he never let go off and pursued with an uncanny delirium. Of course, needless to say, his musical instincts and inimitable genius showed him light. On stage, he was a true performer. He held listeners captive not just with the music, but with an aura that people call charisma. He made you want to listen to the music, he urged you to sit up and take notice of him — the man. His musical expression lit up his face and body language too that seemed to respond in every muscle to his sitar. He made sure he was listened to and well. He took Indian music across to shores where it was never heard before, or heard in the same way. Each time I travel abroad, I meet a lot of music enthusiasts who are not really familiar with Indian classical music. But they have heard of Ravi Shankar sometime or the other. In a friend’s office in France some years ago, I saw a picture of Ravi Shankar on the wall. Intrigued, I later found that she was fascinated by his music and his life. So I discovered the power of our music in many different and unusual ways! He wooed his Western listeners and ensured that he captured their hearts. He spoke their tongue in whichever way he could, he exchanged notes, he collaborated. Whether it was a Menuhin or a Harrison who is credited with catapulting him into fame, Pandit Ravi Shankar can credit his phenomenal success entirely to himself.
He climbed the scaffolding at every opportunity, he travelled relentlessly, he internationalised himself, equipping himself with those indispensable skills that helped him negotiate and appreciate differences in genre, cultures, humans. Of course, along the way he must have made a huge amount of sacrifice and there must have certainly been those who were brutal castaways in his march towards glory. But that’s often the price that success demands and the laws of success impose themselves ruthlessly. It is best to keep the personal and the professional as two different pages, because they may not always meet or may not be mutually beneficial. For the moment, it would suffice to say that we have lost a true world musician, albeit one who never forgot his roots. Pandit Ravi Shankar was born in Benaras and held it close to his heart. The profundity of Benaras and its inexplicable hold on artistic instincts that I have written about in this column before have left their legacy on yet another musician. This time, not just for India but for the world.

Dr Vasumathi Badrinathan is an eminent Carnatic vocalist based in Mumbai.