The last time I attended a kutcheri was a good decade ago at a sabha in TNagar in Chennai when I spent much of the two and a half hours worrying that someone's mobile phone might go off right in the middle of a Ragam-Tanam-Pallavi or that a Nokia ringtone would interrupt the neraval. And invariably, when a phone did start to ring, I heaved a sigh of relief at no longer needing to be so angst-ridden.
It felt right, it felt appropriate that the music should be played out in its most organic state. Not in a sterile environment but in the middle of everyday bustle, high art drawing from the rich soundscape of pedestrian life. In the distance, I heard a horn blare, a child behind me shreiked and Sanjay picked up a high note and somehow, in this uniquely Tamil setting, it all sounded harmonious.