By Lavanya Narayanan
Vocalist Nisha Rajagopalan stands in her kitchen over a pot of simmering Akkaravadisal. It’s her paati’s signature recipe, and amidst the screams and laughs of her children, six-year-old Vidyuth and 16-month-old Kavya, she calls mother Vasundhra in a frenzy to verify that this is actually what it’s supposed to look (and taste) like.
They are adding to the cooking blog, A Pinch of Turmeric, that began as Vasundhra’s aid to daughter Nisha and her two sisters, Deepa and Divya, as they attempted to recreate podis, masalas for their own households. A passion project that took roots as early as May 2019, it became a full-time venture during the lockdown, in light of the Corona virus pandemic that seems to have usurped 2020 and the Margazhi season as well.
Now, Nisha is what mom Vasundhra jokingly calls “tech support”.
“I don’t understand technology at all, so since the beginning, Nisha has been in charge of the website, the formatting, everything. And now, we’ve begun a YouTube channel for it, which she is taking charge of. So a huge thank you to her,” she chuckles. Ask Nisha, and she’s just grateful for the abundance of recipes that have come to her aid and satiated her taste buds.
The blog is just the tip of the iceberg for the mother-daughter duo that share much more than a love of indigenous cooking. Both Carnatic vocalists, an unexpected and rather-delayed love for the arts took hold in the 1960s when, at the age of 16, mother Vasundhra began learning vocal music from Delhi-based vidwan Gopal Iyer. A dream that seemed short-lived at the time, marriage whisked her away to Toronto, Canada, a mere six years later and, occupied with a full-time corporate job, her passion transformed into classes, annual Tyagaraja festivals, and the one-off concert in a city barren of Indian classical arts at the time.
“Because I had just had around five years of exposure to Carnatic music in India itself, I hardly considered it a career option. It was just something I was passionate about and wanted to share with others, especially with our communities in Toronto and Ottawa,” says Vasundhra.
Hands full with a life abroad and raising her daughters, the family journeyed to the popular Sri Venkateswara Temple in Pittsburgh, PA occasionally, often when visiting artists presented concerts or a festival was being held. It was on one such occasion that they chanced upon a concert by vidwan T.R. Subramanyam (TRS) who Vasundhra happened to know during her time in Delhi, all those years ago.
“He was thrilled to see me, as I was him! As it turned out, he was spending that summer in Pittsburgh, teaching music and running a summer programme,” she adds.
The next day, Vasundhra went to meet him, taking young Nisha, only 10 years-old at the time, along with her. TRS prodded her to sing and she did: she remembers the incident vividly.“It was Siddhi Vinayakam in Mohanakalyani – Amma had taught it to me,” she smiles fondly. The rendition immediately caught the vidwan’s attention and he had only one piece of advice that he shared with Vasundhra, almost instantly: “Move back to India if you want to have Nisha make it in music”.
Of course, it would be a few more years before that move materialised. While Nisha spent her weekends that year attending the summer music camp along with Vasundhra, the family visited Delhi just a year later for more intensive training. It was then that a surprise cancellation in a temple saw Nisha present her very first concert: it was a 45-minute-slot that would trigger a life-altering decision.
“I hadn’t realised the importance of music when I was growing up and honestly, I didn’t want Nisha to have the same regrets I did. So I spoke to my husband and we decided to follow our instincts: we moved back,” Vasundhra says.
Whether or not Nisha would pursue music as a full-time career was yet-to-be-seen, but with the ball rolling, the family packed their bags in 1992 and headed back. They went first to Delhi and, under the guidance of guru TRS, continued to learn from him before journeying and finally settling down in Chennai in 1995.
Adjustment, of course, is never immediate, and it was far from it in Nisha’s case: plagued with a slight foreign accent and placed in a new environment, immersing herself in both music and its new social strata took time. Despite having led what most people would consider an ‘Indian lifestyle’ in Toronto, the new environment posed a host of challenges. Continuing under the tutelage of guru TRS, she began to grow and evolve as a musician.
Comfort, however, gradually came calling in the form of additional gurus P.S. Narayanaswamy and Suguna Varadachari, who both Nisha and Vasundhra began to learn from whilst in Chennai, supplementing classes during guru TRS’ short Chennai visits. Guided by the intricacies and nuances of each guru, Nisha blossomed. This novel phase even allowed her to begin to perform, compete, and get involved with the popular youth-led organisation, Youth Association for Classical Music (YACM).
“That was when I really began interacting with musicians my age and got involved,” she tells us. Juggling education as an engineering student and what evolved into a full-time performing schedule as an artist, a seemingly well-timed hiring slump gave Nisha the time to pursue music full-time before, three years later, she was bitten by the ‘work bug’.
“I started wondering what a corporate career would be like, for some reason,” she laughs. She joined the HR department of Flextronics, beginning what would be an incredibly hectic phase as she balanced corporate culture and performance pressure alongside mother Vasundhra’s balancing act of her own.
The stint lasted for two years before finally, Nisha was exhausted. Something had to give and somewhere, she knew what that ‘something’ would be.
“One day, I was sitting at Nandanam signal, stuck in traffic – as always – and I called Amma and said ‘Amma, I’m quitting my job’. Her only question to me was ‘What took you so long?’ ” They both laugh heartily. Not an ‘aha’ moment, they say, but one that Vasundhra could more than relate to: it’s how she felt when she quit her own job at a prolific multinational firm in India after returning.
“I was working steadily but one day I asked myself: Didn’t I return to India for the sake of music, for me and my daughter? So why was I distracted? That clarity, it seems, was all I needed,” Vasundhra shares.
It’s been over a decade since that paramount shift and the ladies have only gotten busier with time. They tell us that in the busiest of Margazhi seasons, they will practically not see each other, often occupied with their own concert activities and schedules.
Strangely, it seems, the ongoing Covid 19 pandemic has been its own blessing in disguise. A forced lockdown means a lack of concert flurry – now, Nisha is able to see mom Vasundhra and dad Raju (alias Rajagopalan) weekly and despite having her hands full with her young toddlers, the two stay intimately connected through their love of food, music, and A Pinch of Turmeric, a venture that has now grown far beyond their initial humble dreams.
In actuality, it’s far from ‘just a blog’. When Vasundhra’s ‘vaasana podi’, a powder used for organic baths for Nisha’s daughter Kavya, went live on the internet, it attracted the attention of someone who would become her first customer. At her behest, she began to sell it commercially, creating an e-commerce platform that sells homemade, indigenous soaps, herbal powders, and the like as close as in Chennai and even as far as America by way of courier services.
Despite the almost instantaneous success, Vasundhra decided this was not a venture she wanted to capitalise on for profit. “I never intended to make money of this -- my focus was simply to share our rare, home recipes with a larger audience.” Instead, she reached out to her network of peers and after intensive research, decided to partner with an NGO, Sri Arunodayam Charitable Trust, located in Kolattur, Chennai. The organisation services 110 rescue children, all with special needs, and through her profits as well as special weekly music classes that Vasundhra has taken up for the children, a beautiful relationship has blossomed.
Of course, the never-ending pandemic has thrown up challenges of its own: shipping products abroad is a tall order, what with the multiple restrictions that have been imposed. But the mother-daughter duo continues to serve their local apartment communities, many of whom have ramped up their purchases, hoping to boost their own immunities in the wake of this deadly virus.
It has also given the ladies a chance to develop the blog into a YouTube channel, one that continues to grow as Vasundhra now attempts recipes that reach outside the realm of ‘native foods’. For instance, her repertoire has grown: products like ‘tofu’, which have been harder to acquire in the market due to lack of supply, are being made in-house, allowing both Vasundhra and Nisha to continue to innovate and avoid the recipe and food fatigue that seems to plague other households as they attempt to innovate with what they have on-hand.
Listening to the tale of the blog begs the question: What time is left for music? Especially when concerts are virtual and the hustle, bustle, and demands of the live festival season are absent this year, one would imagine that complacency sets in. But if anything, it seems the opposite is taking place.
“When we listen to these new, young singers nowadays, they all seem so talented, so equipped. There is a technical understanding and prowess that I definitely didn’t have at that age – it’s unbelievably inspiring,” Vasundhra says.
“Definitely. I think the access to material and resources has helped that; the wealth of concerts and knowledge available on the internet now is immense, and young artists are really taking advantage of that! It’s extremely praiseworthy, all the things they are able to do and constantly present,” Nisha adds.
Ask the ladies what they personally prefer, tradition or innovation, though the answers might shock you ever-so-slightly! While Nisha is more comfortable in the realm of a conventional concert, Vasundhra presents the newer ‘katha kutcheri’ in which storytelling is juxtaposed with kritis to tell a compelling tale, often one taken from mythology or religious texts.
“The speaking bits can still get me and nowadays, there is an increasing demand to speak on stage, even just to describe the piece you are presenting! I think the audience has become more aware, more knowledgeable even, of what they are listening to and well, I still have those slip-ups when it comes to telling stories, especially in sentamizh, on stage,” Nisha admits while Vasundhra laughs in the background.
So much, it seems, has changed since the days of Toronto, corporate life, and even the family’s heydays in music. There is a settled comfort in the music scene and its community now, one that the ladies have sought solace in during this trying time. A product of the evolving dynamic that surrounds them? Seems so.
And yet, in some ways, they say it seems like nothing has changed at all. As they speak about those initial struggles, juggling schedules, gulping mouthfuls of ‘thayir satham’ between paatu classesand work shifts in a rapid, almost blink-and-miss-pace, there is a sense of heartwarming nostalgia. It’s one that reveals what the secret of this mother-daughter duo really is -- the tight-knit camaraderie that, if one didn’t know better, would suggest that they were sisters, best friends, or both.
Entwined by music and food equally, enshrined in the throes of family loyalty and love, it stands testament to what the two have built in these multiple decades and to the years of both that lie ahead, waiting.