Skip to main content

Mario


In the early nineties curfew and booze prohibition were the two complex social problems of Hyderabad city. There I was the coordinator of a western music band. Name of the band was ‘Curfew’! Suddenly the flow of liquor dried up. That meant no floor shows and no scope for live western music. Our troupe almost disbanded.

After a long gap, with great difficulty and much toil, I got hold of a chance to light up with music the New Year celebrations of a five star hotel. There were not many days left for. The band had to be put together by assembling musicians who had gone their different ways. Somehow, most of them came back. Except Mario, the lead singer without whom there could be no band. There was no information as where he had gone. Some people said that he could have left the ‘dry’ state for ‘wetter’ pastures. After an intense search, it became known that he was in Bidar in Karnataka. He worked in an English medium school as a music teacher. He was in a ‘wet state’ indeed!

I got down at Bidar on a sleepy December afternoon in search of Mario. I came to know that he was staying in the school hostel. School was on a weekend holiday. It was days since he was last seen. I kept making rounds of the empty school playground in the hope that Mario might come to his room at least at night. It got dark, but no sign of Mario. Dispirited, I turned back to the poorly lit gateway of the school. As I crossed the door, I saw in the darkness something like a packed sack collapsing. It was Mario in flesh and blood and liquor. There lied the biggest Anglo-Indian singer I have ever seen in person!

I woke him and stood him on his feet. Seeing me, he was overwhelmed. In the potent mix of intoxication and emotion, he kept calling me by a long list of ‘names’. He ‘took’ me to his room with a great sense of elation. It was ‘royal living’ with a ‘bath attached’ single room, he assured me. He danced around the room shouting to me about his hatred for the music-less and liquor-less Hyderabad. And then he proudly showed me his open cupboard. One side was full of quarter bottle rums, some half full and some three-quarters full, but none unopened. He shouted in happiness, “Hey, just look at my bar”.

The other side of the cupboard had the ‘hot’ pages of Debonair Magazine emotionally stuck to each other. On the top were the pictures of Mother Mary and Sacred Heart of Jesus. Below them were a number of half-burnt candles. “This is my God…Mother Mary full of grace…” A short prayer and he kissed the pictures. Beside the god pictures I saw pictures of two more persons. Clean-shaven faces...Big sideburns....One was Elvis Presley. “See the King...” Mario burst into an Elvis song, “You’re walking like an angel...”

I did not recognize the other face. Mario pointed him out and said, “He is the super star of love songs! He is my favourite singer! He is our man......An Anglo-Indian singer like me! Engelbert Humperdinck!” He straight away started singing, “Ever and ever for ever and ever....” As he sang the song, he collapsed into the bed. His voice faded to blabbering and he slept.

The New Year show was a great success mainly because of Mario’s fabulous signing. Most of the songs he sang that day were Engelbert’s songs. Mario had immeasurable love for Engelbert. He saw himself in Engelbert. Mario could have become a great singer like his Idol but few yers ago when Engelbert was touring India in his seventies to great fanfare, Mario in his 48th year was lying in a public hospital in Hyderabad badly gone with his liver damaged.
I do not know whether he was aware of Engelbert’s arrival in India.
I do not know where he is now....

2008

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

S. Janaki : Song of Emotions

The month of June bathed in monsoon.....rain-drenched days and nights.....school reopening season.......We the middle school students used to gather for chatter during intervals after wearying lessons in the cold classrooms. All types of issues befitting our preteen enthusiasm were discussed. Our pet aversions towards teachers... Sex-related tidbits... Discussions on Malayalam films and screen heroes....everything was on the table along with one serious issue....the film songs we heard on the radio the previous night... In our hill village, it was customary for us to curl up every night under blankets listening to the radio program ‘Ranjini’ – a cocktail of film songs – even as rain drummed its own rhythm on the roofs, in the freezing cold of the monsoon season. In those days, most of the children were aware of the names of important composers. They had some very definite opinions on the songs and the singers. One such chatter-time discussion is evergreen in my mind. It was a hotly con...

The Magic of Salil Chowdhury

  Born and brought up in a poverty stricken Kerala village of 1970’s, I set out to face life without much of a family background or social acceptance. There was a time when I was in the grip of severe loneliness, inferiority complex and lack of trust in human beings. It was the Malayalam film songs composed by Salil Chowdhury that inspired self confidence and the will to grow in me. Salilda’s music was very different from the music that I grew up with, one that my mind and ear was attuned to. That was its first attraction. It showed my soul a vast landscape with flowers, brooks and nice people all around. Salilda’s music was a vision to me that filled me with hopes and dreams of better tomorrows. If Salilda was alive, he would have been 80 years old on November 19, 2005. His contributions to modern Indian music are yet to be understood well. Here is my humble tribute to my all time favourite Indian composer. In the modern Bengali music Salil Chowdhury is regarded as the greatest in...

Michael Jackson: The Eternal Child of Music

The swirling mid-day wind is moving the tall coconut trees and making the leaves shake to the beat patterns of it. Mango trees dance to the wind letting the ripe mangoes fall to the ground in rhythm. The cooling summer day breeze carrying around the sweet whiff of fruit mangoes. When I look at the huge mango tree standing tall before me offering its fruits unfailingly, I am reminded of Michael Jackson’s ‘giving tree’ that he regularly kept referring to.  “Trees are the great inspiration of my music. When I climb and sit on my ‘giving tree’ music and poems spring from me on their own. I created many of my songs like ‘Heal the world’, ‘Will you be there?’, ‘Black or White?’ and ‘Childhood’ sitting on that tree.  I look at trees with great love. Their kindness moves me to tears. I would always like to sit on them as an eternal child.” When Michael Jackson passed away, I did not write much beyond a small note in Tamil in the Ananda Vikatan weekly. This made many of my readers conc...