Musical Dreams: The Shankar Mahadevan Story – Part 1
Writing the ‘Musical Dreams’ thread as part of my blog has been a rewarding experience for many reasons. But mostly, it gives me a chance to look over my shoulder and re-visit some of the most amazing memories I have ever had. (Those who haven’t read the earlier pieces – please do visit the ‘My Music’ section of my blog).
PREVIOUSLY on ‘Musical Dreams’ – Winning two prestigious singing competitions in 2000 and 2001 had led to a string of performances in Auckland. This paved the way for ‘Taal Se Taal Mila’ in 2004 – a concert that I had conceptualised and presented to almost 800 music lovers resulting in a downpour of affection and support from Aucklanders.
After it’s resounding success, the burning question people were asking was – what would ‘Taal Se Taal Mila’ be like in 2005?
Let’s take a step back and get come more context – ‘Taal Se Taal Mila’ was born out of the need to perform with freedom, without any constraints set by event organisers. The only way it could happen was if I put an event up myself. “If no one else is prepared to do it for me, I will do it by myself,” I had said to my parents.
Around the same time, Auckland was experiencing a wave of concerts by popular playback singers. Sunidhi Chauhan and Abhijit performed in 2004 and several requests and pleas had resulted in a very quick meet and greet with Abhijit. A few months later Shaan came to perform – one of the event coordinators had asked me if I wanted to sing as the opening act, with a possibility that I might sing with Shaan himself!
Duh! Of course I said yes! My hopes had taken flight again at the prospect of singing at the event. Something I hadn’t even asked for. Worst case, I would get to meet Shaan and that itself was enough for me.
However, none of it happened.
I waited around patiently, followed instructions all evening from the coordinators and hung around till the cleaners had almost wrapped up after the concert. I felt like a little puppy who had been promised food, but had been denied. Heartbreak mode had set in. Bolts of disappointment and tinges of frustration were running amok.
The next day and a few months after the 2004 ‘Taal Se Taal Mila’ event, a dear friend and part of my team asked me over lunch, “So, what are you going to do about your show next year?”
“Next year, we will host Shankar Mahadevan,” I said, without missing a beat.
Why did I say that? And with such certainty? The events after the Shaan concert had seeded the same thought – “Why depend on someone else when I can do it myself!” But…could I really do it by myself? I mean, this was Shankar Mahadevan we were talking about. My idol, a musical genius and legend already, and the man who had captured my fascination with ‘Breathless’ in 1998!
My parents didn’t give me the funny looks I was expecting – rather they said, “Let’s do it”. High levels of confidence was all very good, but how in the world did we expect to pull of such a complex concert with a budget at least 20 times that of ‘Taal Se Taal Mila’!?
Fate has a funny way of connecting you with your desires – the doors can open quite easily, other times the gates take much longer to open than planned and most often you will never even find the gate to your wishes. And I have seen it all.
That evening a chance chat with my cousin in Mumbai opened a gate – she knew someone who organised Shankar Mahadevan shows for a living! A week later we received confirmation via our contact in Mumbai – Shankar Mahadevan wanted us to go ahead with organising his concert in Auckland.
A few months later my father visited Shankar Mahadevan in his studio. My dad informed him that I was a singer and that I would like to perform in the concert. Dad called me and relayed the message that evening – if I wanted to perform with Shankar Mahadevan, he would need to confirm whether I was capable enough to share the stage with him – organiser or not!
A week before the concert, I was at the venue, when I received a text message from India – “Is it very cold in New Zealand?” . I checked with our contact in Mumbai and my hunch was right. Shankar Mahadevan had messaged me – ‘mere mortal’ me!
Before we knew it the time had come. After winning a million battles in the eight months that we had planned the event, we were due to pick Shankar Mahadevan from the airport. I held the bouquet with trembling hands and then there he was – in flesh and blood. “It’s so nice to meet a star,” said my mother, the first to greet him. “I am no star,” came the modest reply.
I hadn’t spoken or moved till then.”Welcome Shankar sir,” I managed somehow.
Shankar Mahadevan looked straight me, “Please call me Shankar,” he said, with a warm smile, before adding, “and you must be Shriram.”
(To Be Continued)
