Advertisment

Twilight Executives: The one who murdered noise

author-image
CIOL Bureau
Updated On
New Update

FINDING about Anuradha’s secret radar, made one thing sure. I was in for a treat. The spy I had met actually hid some real threads of news up his sleeve. So I decided to call my colleague and told her to not to worry and wait.

“Would she be ok alone? You can call her here.” He interrupted me then.

Advertisment

I said a quick bye and sighed dumping the phone back in my bag. “No, she would rather be there then here. The ghazal renditions have started. Everyone is in a different mood now. Eating, drinking and being head-swayingly merry, you know.”

“That’s what I hate about these conferences.” He tutted.

“What now? No fun? No food? And you were the one blazing the let’s-not-be-all-boring-flag, huh?” I did not like outsiders commenting about IT soirees no matter how snoopy-smart they were.

Advertisment

“Food with piano is an insult to both the chef and the pianist, don’t you know?” He couldn’t help raising his pitch a bit.

The fork struck a chord however.“Ohhk sorry! Raw nerve I suppose. Are you into music? No, may be cooking?” I made a frail reconciliation.

“Forget it. You won’t understand. But there are some people in that crowd who would understand exactly what I meant.” He got back to the point. I liked it that way.

Advertisment

“You mean, one of them is the next Master Chef enthusiast?” I ventured a hungry guess.

He pushed a tray of walnut cookies in front of me and ordered. “Just stuff your mouth up and listen.”

I so happily obeyed.

Advertisment

“It was a usual Friday evening. Since there were no knapsacks packed or no tickets booked, I was relaxing at the thought that this one would be a usual TGIF CXO. You know like who plays golf with his work buddies and then loosens up at a bit at some bar or sports club. This would mean a better and bigger sneak-your-CV-in moment for me.

And yet, I was counting my omelettes way too early. He got out of his home and made his way through that rowdy traffic hour in a jiffy. It was a F1 grind following his car. The car stopped at a concert. So he was a different species after all. He would be holding a glass or a beer can and attending a music riot. In short, making my whole purpose of chasing him an utter waste. I was not giving up that easily by the way. I followed him. Out of the car, into the campus, around the fixtures being set up, past the security lines, and then to my confusion, past some huge pole and backstage into the green room! May be an autograph-peek-in I guessed. So I waited and waited. He came out and I again followed. But man, he was picking a mike and warming up for an entrance on the stage! Then he did enter the stage! After strumming some initial chords, he started singing. Like proper pro-level stuff. No doubt, the Encore applause just did not stop when he finished. Like he arrived, he sang and he conquered. With a bang and with a band.”

“You mean to say like a Rockstar? Like those guys who swivel their guitars, bang their heads and sing in front of a huge crowd.” I started laughing. This one was definitely a goof-up. I was full of pity and in splits.

Advertisment

Empathetic and full of patience, he let me guffaw it out.

{#PageBreak#}

“Listen to this,” he finally spoke, thrusting a headphone in my ears. It was a familiar voice. And a very nice, mellifluous, poignantly singers-only voice.

“You have heard him before also. Remember the karaoke game at the earlier conference evening? Only one voice everyone heartily applauded?” He gave me the final clue.

Advertisment

“No! It can’t be true. Only he has that kind of a can-make-everyone-shut-up-and-clap voice. But he can’t be from that league? Is he?” I felt weird, wanting to believe and being unconvinced at the same time.

“So it’s Prasenjit?” I gave in, my eyelids flapping at twice the pace.

“Yes, it’s him. And way beyond the level you and I can imagine. He is not just some best karaoke singer you deign to recognize him as. Just because Prasenjit Mukherjee is ‘the’ GM-Information Technology, Reliance ADA, does not mean he is not a person who can hold a guitar with equal passion and poise.”

Advertisment

“I know, he sings well, but he is an IT boss, he can lead teams, how can he be a lead singer?” I was trying to connect some orthodox dots.

“Prasenjit sings and when he sings, he enthralls. He is a different person. More deep and versatile than you can imagine an IT boss to be. Having IT skills does not amputate your other special skills. There’s more to him than a vendor-list and an IT plan, if you may.” He punched at the table, almost in anger.

I felt apologetic and proud. His disgust was valid. We do have very skewed glasses. We see only that much that we want to see. Do we really care beyond the IT mumbo-jumbo we want to listen to? CIOs and IT industry denizens have often been limited to their designations, deployments and budgets. But the fact that they are more than suits, rarely hits us. We miss the software in all the hardware.

The face we talk to and have a meeting with could be so much more than a name plate. It could be a face that dances, cooks, flies, dives, swims, bats, kicks, sculpts, or like just proved, one who sings.

“I am sorry. Tell me all about it. Was he always a singer?”

“Since the eight standard, when he started learning guitar.” He accepted the truce and shared more notes from the virtuoso’s life.

“In School, he used to lead a band of his own. In College days the spirit for the stage flared up more with many cultural fests and concerts. Now in Delhi for 22 years, he has managed to keep that side alive and kicking in great symphony with work and career. He has been involved with theatre groups and has been playing at many levels with guitars, drums etc.”

“So no Rock-on happened with him thankfully?” I asked.

{#PageBreak#}

“He did not let it happen may be. In the 90s their group played in many shows and the band had its super-busy days. Then lives, careers, marriages made some take a different turn. Some went their own ways of course. But Prasenjit tried to get everyone together. Life moved on. He made sure his singing went on too, no matter where he or others were. In 2000-02 days too, he was involved in many shows while in Kolkata. In 2004-05, he came across a guy and with the musical rhythm hitting between them, they decided to start a band, focusing on Indian Classical fusion.”

The awe factor only kept rising. “He has had bands, stage shows and head banging buddies! Tough to believe. And to think of it he has managed to orchestrate both career and singing without any clones!” I was really wondering why it never hit us after so many interactions with him all this while.

“He has. And not as a side-dish on the plate of life. But as a definite main course. If you see his home, it’s full of all kinds of musical instruments. Even his wife is a classical musical singer herself, an AIR professional, who coaches others for music too. He feels that she is more qualified than him. Together they run a very melodious home. And at work, his boss is the one who keeps pushing him towards music rather than away from it. So you see, he is not those sorts with music on the backstage.” He unleashed more surprises.

“Yes, work. That’s the main question. Does music help him work better?” The journalist gene flapped.

“I saw it scribbled on his tablet itself — if a person is really music-oriented, it’s a different level altogether from there. Only a music-lover can understand this level. Music helps you deal with stress and teams so much better.”

“Looks like he should listen to his boss. We might lose a terrific CIO but at the cost of a terrific band, it’s a great trade-off.” I uttered with a mix of levity and fantasy.

He cut me midway through the sentence. "Fantasies sometimes have a dart board. His dream is to live it up with music like never before. If given an opportunity, he can leave everything behind, even food or water would cease to matter when he feeds on music. He would start a recording studio. No Bollywoodian ambitions, just pure music side. Where he listens, creates and sculpts great music all day.” He paused before concluding this story.

“But then, not all dreams are easy. Talent and finding really dedicated people is a problem everywhere, be it IT or music. Wish I had a better CV? If only I had learnt some chords in that school harmonium class.” He sighed in a selfish undertone I thought.

“What do you mean? People love music seriously nowadays. Don’t exaggerate. There are better candidates out there.” I rebuffed immediately and got back to sipping the coffee.

“No, I have seen how Prasenjit has struggled with his band and shows in finding and keeping the really-passionate kind. That’s why bands do not stick nowadays. Real passion vs. show-off is a big gap today. Serious love for music is beyond ostentations. Music can not be a bubble, the way people use it these days.”

His words made me look up from the coffee mug and I almost hummed. “Music is much more than a bubble. More than a tattoo, hair plait and stubble.”

At that point, we heard some claps in the background for some ghazal which probably just ended. But it lasted only a second before the sound of cutlery and glasses drowned the applause.

I hung my head down to the coffee.