I have been fond of music from a very early age. It was sort of an obsession for me to learn classical music. When I was about three or four years old, I remember humming and trying to sing Hindi film songs, imitating my elder sisters. Later, when I was older, I came to know that the songs were sung by the evergreen Ashok Kumar and heroines of those days.

My father had an ear for music. His sisters were good singers. Music seemed to run in the family as my brothers and sisters could easily pick up tunes and render songs fairly well. When I was quite small, my father engaged a music teacher for my two elder sisters - to teach them to play the violin and also to sing. This was while my family was in Madras. After his transfer to Ernakulam, he engaged a teacher to continue the music classes for my sisters. I used to listen to them when they were practising singing of kirtans. I could follow some of them and tried to repeat them. But nobody seemed to notice my interest in music. If someone had suggested that I should join my sisters, I would perhaps have learnt the saptaswaras and gone through the whole course of classical (Carnatic) music. In that case this article would never have been written! But because it did not happen, I had to continue with my elusive chase of a music guru.

To come back to my sisters, they never seemed to enjoy learning music. For, the arrival of the music teacher would make them sulk and grumble, remarking that the "kudumbi wala" had come. (Kudumbi means the pigtail-like projection of hair that Brahmin men used to sport). After some time, the teacher stopped coming as my sisters did not want to continue with their music lessons. By this time, my father, a bank officer, had been transferred again to some other place. Hence there was no one to persuade my sisters to continue their music lessons.

By then I was nine or ten years old and wished to start learning music. But there seemed to be a jinx on this wish of mine. The old music teacher was located and asked to initiate me into the intricacies of music. I started in right earnest reaching up to "Jandai varisai," when lo presto! the master did the vanishing act. Nobody knew where he had gone.

I was back to square one. Hearing about my desire to learn music, one of my mother's friends took me to a music class to admit me there. But as the classes were held in the other end of the town, I was not able to join there. Going by bus was not allowed without an escort. Then during the summer holidays, I persuaded my younger sister to accompany me for music classes to a lady's house, which was also quite far from our house. When school reopened, my sister flatly refused to continue music lessons, as it meant extra work and walking to and fro. That ended my music journey for the time being.

Since I was thin my father also did not favour my exerting myself for extra curricular activities after school. Hence I had to temporarily give up my yearning for learning music. However, I never stopped singing bhajans and film songs, picked up from friends, from the radio and from relatives. I used to listen raptly to the soulful singing of my favourite singers like M.S. Subbulakshmi, Lata Mangeshkar and other stalwarts.

After marriage and the birth of a daughter, I got an opportunity to take up music again. My daughter's dance teacher knew music and I started learning Carnatic music from him. Not for long, as the old spectre raised its head again - that is, the dance-cum-music master also left the place for some reason.

Years passed - another daughter was born. A neighbour of mine knowing about my interest in music, took me to a lady teaching music, staying quite near our house. This lady, Mrs. K. Sundaram, readily agreed to have me as her student - though her other students were young girls and boys. She told me there was no age bar when it came to learning any art - provided one was hardworking and sincere.

So at the age of forty, I started anew on my music yatra. Mrs. Sundaram taught me all sorts of songs, bhajans and slokas in Sanskrit, Telugu, Tamil, Kannada, Marati, and Hindi. On my request, she quickly took me through the sarali varisai, jandai varisai, etc. She was a versatile lady with a melodious and tinkling voice. She explained to me the meanings of songs, kirtanas, explained ragams, thalams, the music trinity and thus enriched my knowledge of music. What I learnt was just a fraction of her musical repertoire, but I felt very happy as my musical quest had at last found its destination.

She, Mrs. K. Sundaram, was a guru par excellence, and was the guru I had been seeking all along. Even today I practise daily at least some of the pieces I learnt from her, remembering her with gratitude. She was the guru I had been searching for all through my life. This is my tribute and thanksgiving to her.

I remember an old song learnt in school:

Everything perishes under the sky.
Music alone shall live (3)
Never shall die.