Nurturing Sensibility and Sensitivity

I click photographs when I see anything interesting.

I entered Taj Santacruz which is my favourite hotel and waited for my friend to arrive. A young person was sitting quiet in a corner, his eyes closed. A long flute was on his lap which he picked up after a while and adjusted the collar mike connected to a speaker. The speaker also was connected to his mobile and it started paying tanpura. The flutist played ‘Sa’ and held the note for a while. He then put his flute down, placed his palm on his chest, eyes still closed, sat in that position for a minute or two and started playing flute.

He was playing alaap of Raag Bhairav on his flute. I moved closer to him; I wanted to speak to him. But the flutist still had not opened his eyes. It took about ten minutes before he opened his eyes only to find me staring at him. Harish Kamble (I made friends with the flutist) understood instinctively that I wanted to have a word with him and smiled.

I moved closer and appreciated his music. ‘Are you playing Raag Bhairav?’ He nodded. He resumed playing and I went to the restaurant with my friend. When I returned, he was playing Raag Charukeshi.

‘Someone told me that Raag Charukeshi was a favourite Raag of President Abdul Kalam who played Veena.’ I told the Flutist. He smiled. Besides me there was none appreciating his music and sadly, not even noticing his presence!

I noticed Meenatai Thackeray Flower market as I passed it in my car. I got down about a hundred meters away and walked back to the flower market. Those hundred meters must be a place where they sell fish in the morning. The stench was unbearable, and I pitied the cleaners who were clearing the garbage.

As I entered, I saw four or five trucks lined up. They were full of empty crates, and more empty crates were getting loaded.

I entered the market; it is a wholesale market. All aisles were littered with newspapers which obviously were used to wrap bunch of flowers. There were plenty of lights and all had their shades lined with colour films; it reflected colour light, but it did not make the flowers look more beautiful.     

I sought permission to click photographs. They readily agreed.

After a stroll in the market, I moved out from a side exit. Huge pile of newspapers waste and flowers lied at the exit.

There was a truck getting unloaded and an old lady – believe it or not – was sitting under its loading flap and selling flowers! I wanted to click a photograph but checked myself. Busy customers would not even notice her. I had not seen such utterly neglected person.

There was abundance of flowers in the market, but flowers were ‘goods to be sold’ for them. Nobody appreciated their beauty and fragrance.

Much like the flutist’s music in the reception area of Taj Santacruz.

Music was essential, an item on the to-do list of the Hotel managers, but the music and musician were ignored. Neglect happens in the market and also in five star hotels.

Commercial world kills our sensibility; it also numbs pleasure we can derive from nature and art. Nurturing sensibility and sensitivity helps us create meaning in our life.

Experience teaches us what to do, and what not to do! We have a choice!!

Vivek S Patwardhan

What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others/ All work copyrighted.