The Shankars

An Amazing day. I don’t use that adjective lightly here, it was an amazing day but then, it was always going to be a day for superrelatives. (not a spelling mistake, trust me!)

I woke with a start, after having had a dream in which I literally drew my last breath. In the dream, I remember lying down somewhere and then letting out an almighty exhalation of breath, conscious of it being my last and with a sense of being resigned to the inevitable but also with a sense of relief… ooooerrr!

I decided to sort out the MOT on my car and took it to the garage where after an interminable wait they finally tested it and then promptly failed it. (Arggghhhhh!) I now have the dilema of choosing either to scrap a car I’ve grown very fond of and get a ‘new’ old banger or pay for repairs that will cost twice it’s value. Love or an easy life… it always boils down to that choice. It’s almost like Neo’s predicament in Matrix Re-loaded… well maybe not.

Luckily, I had a distraction planned for the evening that would take my mind off the fate of my beloved chariot of (mis)fire – a concert at the Birmingham Symphony Hall, the Full Circle Tour – Ravi Shankar and Anoushka Shankar.

Whoah! what a distraction… I won’t review it, (cursed as I am with the musical vocabulary of a tone deaf but enthusiastic organ grinder’s monkey), but will say that it was mind blowing.

Actually there’s just Norah to go now and I’ll have a full set of Shankar concert memories. Okay, strictly speaking Norah Jones isn’t a Shankar and would probably not appreciate being referenced as one but she’s hardly likely to be reading this, is she? so, nah nah nah nah nah. Anyway, years ago I was at the Rocket Club on Holloway Road where I saw Ananda Shankar do his thing. It was Electric! A small venue with a highly charged up crowd – concerts should all be like that. Except, of course, when they feature Ravi Shankar, (truly, we are not worthy), and Anoushka Shankar, (I won’t mention how beautiful she is since I don’t want to take anything away from her incredible talent… doh!). A lesser venue than the superb Birmingham Symphony Hall would not have done justice to the presence of a musical god and his daughter.

I know, it’s all very sycophantic but I don’t care. It was my sister Pam who bought the tickets, so thanks to her I had an amazing day. (superrelatives … the Jabbars … the Shankars … geddit? … Oh! please yourself then.)

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