Geetmudra

A businessman sells goods and, along with them, his very soul. An artist must never do that. An artist must preserve the soul of their art. If that happens, even in the first, second, and third decades of the twenty-first century, sensitive listeners like Madhukar Dharmapurikar will continue to emerge.

Where there is a marketplace, there is only money; where there is art, there is also emotion! And emotion cannot be bought in a marketplace!

— Babu Moshay (Preface)

Time moves forward, and we grow wiser. But when we look back, we become aware of the enchanting landscape of the days we have left behind. A strange melancholy envelops us. Our emotions become uncontrollable—much like an elephant that suddenly goes berserk one day while performing its usual circus routine.

Casting everything aside, we approach the cage of time. From within the opaque reality of the present, we gaze longingly into the distance. The faint images of bygone days leave us deeply moved. And they are not merely images; they hold melodies, gestures, fragrances, and touches. All the people in those memories have become our own...

— ‘The Touch of Meandering Melodies’ (Nagmōḍī Swarāñchā Sparśa) — From the Present Collection