My Violin

Santosh Jackson was not the one to be ever out of action. Atleast, not the Santosh that I knew. Anyway, he was no more the one that I knew.

Back then, allergic to the concept of karma, I and Rahul had decided to make music. Music, we thought, would eventually not only get us the women but also acceptance in the society. It is strange that we got everything but that. Priorities change.

Back in the early 90s, we were going nowhere. On introspection, we discovered that our music needed depth. The peddar road boys needed experiences; the ones intense enough to inspire notes. As impressionable young boys, we decided to travel. Kerala was a natural choice. It was simple – different from our surroundings and cheap. As a result, the things to part with were not seriously significant - my dad’s scooter and rahul’s cd player.

To put it in a word, Alleppey was a ‘relief’; from expectations and non existent worries. The toddy shop by the backwaters was the place to be. That’s where we met Santosh. Unassuming, He was not a commanding personality. But he had those eyes which were searching for positivity. But, one would never notice all this once he got the violin strings moving. There was uprightness and no fluffiness in the notes. This is what we needed. He would be the soul of our music.