The day comes to us (9.00 am)
We had just finished our breakfast - a superlative chhole bhature (the chef here is too good) - and had walked down to a small grassy area next to our cottage, plonking down on the swing there, our backs to the sun. Our relaxed schedule whispered to us of bath and clothes washing, and a bit of water excursion by Panna in the Pah river. Today the temperature was steadily climbing with the sun, and might reach 13-14°C soon, and 20°C by mid day, so some splashing around was warranted and welcome. In fact, that would probably be the activity of the day. Or so we thought.
We looked up to the road above. A couple of guys were walking to the slope that descended to our gates. A blue car stopped and some girls in traditional Himachali attire tumbled out. They greeted each other. Some more dressed-up people arrived. To us, they seemed like marionettes high up on the road, miming some act for our benefit. The whole group started walking down to our gates. Who could they be?
The music video (10.00 am)
As they walked up slowly to where we were sitting and we interacted a bit, we realised that a music video production process had been gifted to us. Shankar Dev, a gifted Himachali folk singer, was about to record his new song today, and had obtained permission from Anandgram management to do it here. A good choice, particularly because their homestead was just around three kilometres from here, at Pah village.
This was a family production, supported by a troupe. Shankar, 45 years old, was accompanied by his parents, his wife and his two daughters, his younger brother and sister. Later on, his elder brother and wife also joined the throng. Additionally, dressed in immaculate Himachali attire were four men and four girls, the dance troupe.
As is typical in music video productions, there were many retakes, repositioning and regroupings, all of which would be spliced on the editing table and matched to the sound track. This was a slower song, and the row dancing was gentle and easy, quite manageable by Shankar's post-seventy parents. The repetitive melody is quite addictive, and I guess the lyrics are more important, telling a story in slow ballad style.
Shankar's wife Ramdei, who was sitting out with us on some of the dances, explained that Shankar had written this song to honour his parents. It talks about how much his parents sacrificed to take care of their family and the hard life they had gladly endured to ensure that their children were brought up properly. We thought that was terribly sweet of Shankar. How many singers would spend time and money on making a music video on their parents?
Panna and Ramdei struck up quite a friendship and it enabled us to take a peek into their life. Theirs was a joint family, and all the members mentioned earlier lived together. They had just graduated to a concrete house, having lived in a wood-and-mud traditional house till now, which was actually more effective at insulation. Life was hard because music blogging was not necessarily very remunerative, and Shankar had now been forced to take up a job somewhere. Ramdei herself works as a peon at a small company. Their daughters - Sonia in Std 10 and Lakshita in Std 8 - were very smart and pretty girls, studying in an ICSE board private school in Kullu and spoke fluent English. Sonia has a dream of studying medicine at AIIMS Delhi. "Marks aye tab na," said Shankar, butting in. "Dekhte hain", said Ramdei, sighing, with probably an eye on their finances. We blessed them mentally, hoping that all their dreams come true. "Don't spend too much time on phones", said Panna, smiling. "We are not allowed phones auntie! We sometimes use Mamma's", pouted Lakshita. Well! That's a takeaway for us liberated parents!
With all pahadi people here, there is one consistency. However hard their life, however difficult the attainment of their dreams, they always have a smile on their faces and are not "off-mood" for more than 5 secs. They are also very big-hearted and loving. The two daughters became very attached to Panna and wanted us to visit their house in the village. "20th is a holiday for us auntie, come to our house", said Sonia. It is tempting. Let's see.
A heavy lunch (2.00 pm)
As we went up to the restaurant for lunch, the troupe left, waving to us from the road when getting into their vehicles. Tulsi Ram, our chef, had been holding on to the arbi leaves from yesterday and served us the fritters, whose spiral shapes were pretty unique. We were in a Punjabi mood and had ordered sarson ka saag and makki ki roti, which was an excellent production, as usual. But all in all, a pretty heavy meal, and we tottered back to our rooms and crashed, happy with our day.
So friends, we learnt a lesson today. When we are ready for things to happen to us, they will. No need to go hunting, just because a blank space in a Gantt chart is starting at us accusingly. Cheerio!
Photo credits: Panna Rashmi Ray
Comments
Post a Comment