She taught us music in the seventh. A frail, delicately fair, elderly woman. Some one said she was a widow.
The peon would first come in with the large harmonium followed by Ma'am. Without even an introduction, she would then begin.
Well versed in various ragas, she explained them so softly. Everything went over our heads.
Raag Bhargava, raag Vaishnavi etc etc...now I really don't know these are ragas or peoples' names. All we knew well was raag Vairagya. A dispassion in musical stuff indeed! What good would this stuff do to enhance our career? Preposterous indeed!
We somehow tolerated this soft spoken woman. More out of sympathy. She never had our full attention.
Thankfully orals were easy. She asked simple questions. We had to sing out two three lines at her table, while the class chatted loudly.
Ma'am went in and out each week with the harmonium. She sang songs softly, made us write some Sanskrit words.
A year went by swiftly.
We were glad it was finally over, though we were none the wiser.
