I met and interacted with Dr M Balamuralikrishna only once. After talking to him over an hour-long interview, I was going to drop Balamurali off back at his hotel. I was driving and my colleague opened the rear door for him. With one of his winning smiles, Balamurali opened the front passenger door and slid in. That moment will remain etched in my mind for the amazing grace it embodied. How many people would have done that... particularly how many celebrities? In fact, even if they knew the social convention, how many of them would have had the presence of mind or the awareness of time and space to produce that act of easy grace?
Of course, this was just the moment that rounded the personality of Balamurali for me. I had been listening to his music for three decades then. I continue to. And I continue to be charmed by the man and his music.
There is much to say about the man. At the same time, there is nothing to say. His music speaks for him - in different ways for different people. It tells a story. It takes you on a journey.
Turn on his music, close your eyes, and listen. You don't just hear the music; you experience it. You relate on many levels. You experience a singular musical mind at work, but at the same time you understand the performer. High art and compelling entertainment existing beautifully together. You watch a video of his concert - again, you don't just listen to the music. You observe a gifted musician, sure, but you also observe the consummate performer, teasing you to respond to his music, a creative artiste always fully aware of the audience he so effortlessly takes on one of the most exhilaratingly sensuous rides of their lives.
I can safely - and emphatically - say that it is rarely that a personality like his comes around. The passing of Balamurali marks the end of an era. And this is one moment I do not want to listen to his music. The silence is more appropriate.
