The Music That Connected All the Dots - First the Storm, Then the Raga

The world felt like it was changing at lightning speed back in the summer of 1989. I had just passed my Class 12 exams and was thrilled to be selected for an engineering course. It felt like my life was moving along with the rest of India, from an industrial age into a new high-tech era. My childhood had been a simple, happy mix of playing and studying, and everything seemed to be going just as planned.

Life was moving smoothly, and then, suddenly, everything came to a halt.

I was only nineteen, just one year into my degree, when my father passed away. That one event changed everything. It felt like a part of me had been shut down, and the emotional weight started to pull down my studies. It took me a full year just to start feeling like myself again. By then, another problem had crept in: money. With my father gone, there was no one in our family earning an income.

Before I go on, I have to tell you something about my father. He was a technical man, but he had a real passion for music. He loved both Indian and English songs, and our home was filled with albums from the 60s and 70s. Some of my earliest memories are of listening to music with him in the evenings. We’d listen to everything from Boney M and the theme from *The Good, the Bad and the Ugly* to the great classical masters of India. I think that’s where the first seed of music was planted in me.

Back in my college days, things were tough. To pay for my education, I had to rely on scholarships, fee exemptions, and trusts that helped students with textbooks. I knew I couldn’t afford to fail. I decided to pour every bit of my energy into my studies.

One evening, I got the chance to go to a classical music concert. Here in Vadodara, music is a part of life, so live performances were common. But this one was special. It was during Diwali, and I heard that the legendary Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasia would be performing a flute symphony, accompanied by the great tabla player, Ustad Zakir Hussain.

Sitting there, listening to that symphony, something clicked. It was like a bridge formed between the English melodies of my childhood and the Indian classical music I’d heard on the radio. When I walked out of that concert hall, I felt lighter, more hopeful. The emotional fog I’d been in since my father's death began to clear. I made a promise to myself right then: I would give my absolute best to my studies and build a good life.

From that day on, music became my fuel. I would lock myself away with my books, and to keep myself going, I’d play the theme from *The Good, the Bad and the Ugly* over and over again. Those melodies were my motivation, helping me dig out from under mountains of study material. Music was the key that unlocked me during those struggling days. And it worked. In my final year of engineering, I stood first in my class.

After I graduated with distinction, I got a job at a steel plant and moved from Vadodara to Rourkela. A little while later, another opportunity brought me back home to Ahmedabad. All this time, I never stopped watching the classical music programs on Doordarshan. They always had a way of calming me down and bringing me a deep sense of peace.

But I felt I needed to do more. After a year of working, I decided to pursue an MBA. This was a huge risk. It meant leaving my job and starting from scratch. Our financial situation at home still wasn't great, and I was only earning a small stipend as an engineer trainee. The decision brought back that familiar feeling of pressure and uncertainty.

My mother gave me her full support, so I quit my job and moved back to Vadodara. I spent my days studying on my own in my old engineering college library. I looked into a coaching class for the MBA entrance exam, but I just couldn't afford the fees. I decided I’d have to do it myself. A friend who was attending the classes generously shared his notes and books with me. For three intense months, I did nothing but study. And somehow, I did it. I secured a spot in an MBA program right there in my hometown.

After finishing my MBA, I started a career in finance. Life got busy. I wanted to fulfill that old dream of learning music, so I even bought a harmonium, thinking I’d learn in my spare time. But as my career took off, my work hours got longer and longer. Slowly, the dream of learning music began to fade. The harmonium sat quietly in a corner. The desire was still there, deep down, like an unfinished story, but life just kept getting in the way. For nearly 28 years, I focused on my career, working hard, climbing the ladder, and eventually reaching a top position in my company.

Then, one day in February of 2025, everything changed again. I was just scrolling through YouTube on my phone when a short video popped up. It was a clip of someone named Harsh Sir, talking about a 90-minute free flute class. The video was less than a minute long, but it was like it reached right into my heart and woke up that dream I had packed away so long ago.

I knew instantly that this was it. On the day of the class, I enrolled without a second thought. I just had a feeling that this was the Guru I was meant to learn from. I joined the Flute Gandharva community and was immediately surrounded by this incredible positive energy—from Harsh Sir, from the mentors, and from all the other students online. A deep sense of joy washed over me. It was another connecting dot in my life’s journey: from the music my father played, to that life-changing concert, to the melodies that got me through my exams, and now, finally, to finding my Guru and my instrument.

The most beautiful part is that my journey inspired my wife. She also enrolled and is now learning the flute, too. Our home is filled with music every single day. We look forward to every online class and every chance we get to attend a workshop in person. We even performed together as part of group at the Karjat Retreat. Life feels so joyful, so melodious.

I’m now a lifetime member of the community, working my way through the lessons. I’m in no hurry. For me, this journey isn't about getting to the next level quickly. It’s about absorbing every little detail Harsh Sir teaches and weaving it into my life. I’ve realized that it doesn’t matter what instrument you start with, or when you start. What matters is that you pick one up. Because when you do, you begin the most wonderful journey of all—unlocking the world of Indian Classical Music, one note at a time.

— Chetan Jansari