Gayatri, At The Barbican

When I lived in London in the Eighties we frequently went to the Barbican for the opening of a new exhibition or for a concert. Never did I imagine in the days of yore that one day I would sit at the same venue spellbound, as Indian music broke the bastions of tradition and mindset and created a fusion of sound and movement that evoked the Goddess Gayatri, through the Gayatri Mantra, chanted by Shankar Mahadevan and set to taal by the young genius of fusion Talvin Singh.

Last week, I was one of the lucky few who witnessed Talvin Singh performing his OK album. Having won the prestigious Technics Mercury Music prize for the album of the year, Talvin had decided to perform at the Barbican. His concert had been sold out for the past three months almost since the box office had opened. Being a close friend, he insisted I extend my stay in London to take in the concert and to say I was ecstatic would not be inappropriate. Talvin actually managed to get us five super seats right in the middle of the auditorium.

Ramola Bachchan and her daughters Namrata and Naina, Kunal Goswami and I took over seats at sharp nine to the haunting tune of the theme song by A.R. Rahman from the film Bombay. Lamps flickered by each instrument yet the stage had a computer graphic-generated set, very high tech, with a touch of tradition and class. The stage was soon to come to life with the master of percussion and a pioneer of the underground fusion music, Talvin Singh. He had brought together luminaries of the music world like Ustad Sultan Khan, Shankar Mahadevan, Rakesh Chaurasia, Chandrashekhar, Karsh Kale, Bill Laswell, Brad Munn, Ruyuchi Sakamoto, Ajay Naidu, Cleveland Watkiss, Bryon Wallen and Sudha Kheterpal and together they created a maelstrom of sound that wove its magic. The two hours surged by on wings of joy. Superlatives seem inadequate to praise the talent of Talvin himself who created, wrote and arranged all the tracks of the album and on stage gave us a virtuoso performance on the tabla, the dhol, voice table tarang, the works. When the last song was done the group did three curtain calls but the screams of 'encore' and 'we want more', brought them back for one more evocative, playful, fusion finale.

I taken extraordinary pride in a friend like Talvin who has broken through invisible barriers to bring Indian music to the young of the world, in a language they understand. Music harmonises, it eulogises, it laments but when it crosses international frontiers to unite, it is a powerful tool in the process of amalgamation and can help bring down even the most rigid barriers of race or culture. I quote from the rave reviews that Talvin has received from the British media - 'sumptuous and stirring': The Observer; 'staggeringly ambitious - a glorious coming together of ancient and modern' : The Times; and 'an ulter joy': The Sunday Telegraph. Despite laurels like these being heaped on him, Talvin remains a simple, warm gentleman, quick to laugh yet quicker on the tabla. He is in his short life span, a hero and a legend. In his words, he chose the title OK for his album because 'OK' is the most common word in the world. "If there is a philosophy we all share it is that we all believe music is a universal language." Our young who sometimes feel they are caught in a time warp of traditional and modern can take a leaf out of Talvin's book and create a fusion which is uplifting and uniting, while keeping the "essence of each intact". Finally, I wish our government would like cognisance of the prodigious talent of Talvin and give him the recognition he deserves.