Kandisa
It’s early evening. I’m in my car, inching inch-by-inch, literally, on 101. It’s Rajeev Motwani’s memorial concert at Stanford tonight. Indian Ocean is performing. Of Kandisa fame?
The traffic jam doesn’t clear, but I eventually realize that only the right lanes are blocked. So I maneuver into the left lane and am soon speeding on the highway. Isn’t this common: you are in a line and you assume the line is as fast as it could possibly be – when it’s actually super slow. And then, if you actually go and look around, your perspective clears and you find another line that’s much faster. Nobody usually bothers looking around. Following the herd is human.
I arrive just in time for the 4th song, or so. This amphitheater is a hidden Stanford beauty. Its a huge open air amphitheater, with grass seats. The half moon is shining at an angle to the podium on this starry night. Indian Ocean is playing some of the most amazing music I have heard. The place is not even at half its capacity. The air is cool, and most people are swaying gently.
As I avoid the damp grass and sit down on the curb, a thought strikes me. This is how a memorial should be; I say to myself. Where a few hundred people lie lazily on the grass unhindered by lack of space, looking at the starry sky, and listen to Sufi music. The stage is difussed with soft colorful lights, gently changing color. Soon I’m transported; while I was working away on the nitty gritty of a product an hour ago, I’m now listening to a song Syrian Christians brought to India with them in 52 AD. Soft modulations in a deep earnest voice that sounds like craving. What a concert!
When the singer stops, he starts talking about his songwriter. “An interesting guy”, he says, “who likes to claim he’s a Sufi.” “But we’re actually Lufis”, he adds. Then pauses. “Sufis who haven’t been able to give up lust; tried and failed”. The mostly young crowd erupts in laughter. They’re probably thinking, “So would we, if we tried to Sufiize ourselves”.
That’s how a memorial should be; when people forget themselves, and drown in the splendor of beautiful music. When the end is a celebration of a life well lived.
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