K. Srinivas Patnaik

Tag: Calcutta

  • Jam & Learn — An Example of Inspiration

    From the Archives

    This reflection was originally written on 26 March 2010 as a Facebook Note and was last edited on 6 May 2021. It has been lightly refined and republished here for clarity and readability, while preserving the original thought, feeling, gratitude, and intent.

    Jam & Learn is an extension of my hobby — playing the guitar for fun, not as a profession.

    As most of you know, I am a full-time marine engineer, now managing ships from ashore. But throughout my sailing years, I carried my guitar with me on every ship I sailed on.

    My First Ship

    I was in Kolkata — Calcutta then — staying at Port View Guest House. I am amazed that I could remember that name within a few seconds.

    My batchmate Pandey was also there, waiting to join his ship, and was staying in the same guest house.

    He was the one who inspired me to carry the guitar on my first ship.

    I was very apprehensive. I thought my superiors may not like it, and I might probably get a good ragging for carrying a guitar on board.

    But Pandey advised me to carry it quietly.

    “Take it into your room,” he said, “and don’t mention it outside for at least six months. After that, it will be fine.”

    So I covered the guitar in a plastic bag and cloth, carried it straight to my cabin, and kept it with me.

    Of course, my father was the one who had carried the guitar all the way from Nagpur. He was posted there at the time I was joining my first ship. He brought it to Kolkata when he came to see me off.

    I was joining my first SCI ship at Chennai.

    Ever Since

    Ever since then, I have carried my guitar on all ships.

    It is not that I played every day, but I loved having it with me.

    There were moments at sea when you would suddenly yearn to play a few notes of a wonderful song. And if the guitar was not there at that moment, it felt deeply disappointing.

    On average, I probably strummed or played at least once a week.

    Of course, once my shipmates came to know about the guitar, they would carry it all the way to parties, and we would jam on Hindi melodies of every kind.

    There are so many wonderful compositions by our esteemed music directors. Some songs simply refuse to leave you.

    I will write more about the associations and inspirations that kept me going until I finally met my only Guru, Shri Radha Vijayan of Mirra Fine Arts, Singapore.

    Please do visit the music school’s website and see how he has created a world of music single-handedly, with soulful dedication to the guitar.

    He is a wonderful human being and can inspire you even through his quiet and unassuming presence.

    I have known him for more than four years, and I could write lengthy essays on each meeting we have had.

    Jam & Learn is a practical example of how far inspiration can take you.

    It is still just the beginning.

    Thank you, Sir, for being there.

    [Insert photograph here]

    Caption suggestion:
    Little drummer in “Papa’s studio.”

    The little drummer, Vahein, jumps whenever he hears that we are going to “Papa’s studio.” That is what he calls it.

    I have attached his picture with this note.

    More in my next.

    Until then, please hear the music even in silence.

    Try it.

    You can.

    Have fun.

    Cheers,
    Srinivas

  • Tribute to Munna — The Simple Guitarist

    From the Archives

    This reflection was originally shared as a Facebook Note on/around 19 May 2010, and was last edited on 6 May 2021. It has been lightly refined and republished here for clarity and readability, while preserving the original thought, feeling, and intent.

    It was in 1989, when we returned from Mumbai after spending a year there for our second year of DMET — Marine Engineering training.

    While I was in Mumbai, I had heard that my sister had bought a guitar. Only she could have managed such a feat at home. Daddy was the kind of person who would not always say it directly, but you knew what he wanted: “Focus on your studies.”

    We were staying at BNR in Kolkata — Calcutta in those days — and my sister had engaged a guitar tutor. He later became my guitar idol during that period of my life.

    His name was Munna.

    Munna was my first guitar tutor, and in many ways, he opened the door through which music entered my life more seriously.

    He was a building construction labourer by profession, but he could play the guitar with amazing ease. He used to play for an orchestra and seemed to know the latest interludes, opening notes, and chords of almost any Hindi song I could name.

    I knew he could not even afford to buy himself a good guitar in those days. Yet the way he played, the way he understood film music, and the way he made the guitar speak, left a deep impression on me.

    Sandhya playing the Jal Tarang — a family archive photograph from school days, retained here as part of the original memory.

    I do not know where Munna is today, but my sincere wishes go out to that wonderful guitarist and very good human being.

    He taught me the basics of Hindi music chords, and even today I can attribute some of the interlude pieces I play to his training. He never charged me a single rupee as a fee. I still feel a strong urge to look for him whenever I think of visiting Kolkata.

    I can still remember him sitting inside the corner of a small shop operated by his elder brother. If I remember correctly, his brother used to sell tobacco and other general items. Munna would sit there and play his orchestra electric guitar, producing clean notes even without a speaker.

    There was something special about our relationship.

    Looking back, I realise that much of my motivation to play the guitar in those days came from this wonderful person. I used to look forward to returning from DMET on weekends just to spend an hour with him.

    Fortunately, he always made time for me. Whenever I called him, he would come.

    May God bless him.

    Some people touch our lives quietly and become part of our memories forever.

    I am sure you too can think of a few such people in your own life — and smile.