The Music Makers by Rohini Paranjpe Sathe offers a lilting, delicious, and sometimes brutal glimpse into a conservative Maharashtrian family that loved music but was unsure of its ability to achieve material success. A sad but true state of almost all art forms, and definitely of the purist perspective of classical art. 

My mother would say this often: “I must do ‘thaen abhishekam’ (ritual bathing with honey) for Lord Murugan in this birth so that I could become a singer in my next.” Her and my dad’s love, nay, yearning for music passed on to me. But perhaps, like my mom, I didn’t do thaen abhishekam in my last birth too, because I can’t sing to save myself. To read The Music Makers instilled that yearning for music, especially the classical form. 

Following the path of the protagonist, Sumati Tai, was like meandering through a dense emotional jungle replete with melodiously chirping birds, creepy crawlies, and wild animals, some intentionally harmful, others masking their wolfish nature in sheep’s clothing, and some others following the societal expectations of the times. 

But one thing was sure. I could hear the strains of classical music continuously playing in the background of my entire reading.

The first few pages set the perfect tone for a music-based book. The few minutes leading up to the start of an important concert were described beautifully. I was transported to the stage, pulled in by the minute descriptions of accompanying instruments and the sounds of fixing the right ‘kharja’.

The rest of the book followed through well, too. The hope at the end of the book combined with the fact that more and more youngsters are turning to classical music left me in little doubt that this art form can never, ever die. 

What I loved about The Music Makers:

• The nuances of classical Hindustani music were beautifully explained in simple terms for novices like me.
• The different POVs gave an all-round understanding of the plot and movement of the story.
• The sudden brutality towards the end of the book startled me. Yet, the way the author used that to teach a long-overdue and well-deserved lesson to an important character in the book was satisfying. 
• There were no loose ends; everything was covered neatly, like a full-fledged bandish that stays true to its raag.
• The dulcet wefts and warps of the book made me happy.

What didn’t work for me in The Music Makers:

While a book based on music is fine with delicate, long-drawn descriptions, the narrative was a wee bit dialogue-centric and introspection-heavy, which, I thought, impeded the momentum of the story in some places. 

Regardless of the small nitpick, this book by Rohini Paranjpe Sathe is worth picking up to realign your heart and soul with the timeless beauty of classical music. 

Author’s Note:

It is a belief among devotees of Lord Murugan that doing a ritual bathing with honey for the Son of Shiva bestows the karta with the power of music. I won this book for the monthly campaign: ‘Mixed Tape Mood Blog Hop’ hosted by Manali Desai and Sukaina Majeed under #EveryConversationMatters blog hop series

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