It has been almost an year. I turn my bike to the way going to Kalashree, the residence of late Maestro, Pt. Bhimsen Joshi. I know, he is not there, but still I cannot resist. I used to take this road when he was living there. I myself cannot understand why I take that road even though I know he is not there? I have now decided to find an answer.
May be, I am searching Bhimsen Joshi. Searching madly. And my poor mind knows only this much- If he can be found by chance, it will be at his home, Kalashree. A poor dog of master madly watches at gramophone playing records of his master, with blind hope that he is still there and will come out of it.
I am also like that mad lover. I also feel, I will catch him in the garden of Kalashree. People can laugh at this but they do not know what this man has given to me. Only a lover can know this.
When Pt. Bhimsen Joshi passed away, from that day, I could not listen to his records. I did not feel like. My father used to listen to them a lot, but I avoided. Now, it is almost one year Pt. Bhimsen Joshi has left us. Today morning, I come to know that only his notes can satisfy me. No one else can do it.
Now I am almost satisfied. i use word almost because I know I am far away from total satisfaction. It might need pains taken by Pt. Bhimsen Joshi to be completely satisfied.
I am listening to him right from I was in womb of my mother. At this moment I can write only this much-
रस भिनी भिनीया
तेरो नयनका संग
I am awake with your eyes full of…..I do not know the English word for रस…it is beyond scope of this language….
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