By Deepa Majumdar
Winter 2024-25 has felt bleak … right from the start. Not because of the snow. If anything, it is cozy to be warm and snug indoors – with steaming food and endless cups of tea. Snow-bound weather encourages contemplation, bestowing the deep solitude we need to return to the still point within ourselves. So, why this bleakness? Not because of the erratic weather. Yes, climate change is here – with the weather seesawing from sub-zero to abnormally warm temperatures that have confused even our wildlife. Faithful migrants, the Canada Geese usually fly south in winter – but not this time. Just this morning, I saw a few waddling on the icy pond outside my window – as if skating. No, Mother Nature is not to blame for this unrelenting bleakness. Donald Trump is. Anticipating his vengeance, cruel deportations, and reversals of social justice, we have felt sad since the start of winter. Mr. Trump and his MAGA acolytes are solely to blame for our misery.
For me, the panacea lay, not in politics, or activism, but in the arts – specifically music, which Swami Vivekananda singled out as the greatest of all arts. But music, like beauty, is mercurial. It can express the full range of human moods and moral states. Thus, it is not music per se, but a specific type of music that comes with the power of healing. What I craved was Christmas music. With the snow outside and my glowing Christmas tree inside, all I needed was Christmas music. Not the produced-manufactured, money-making type that leaves you cold, but soulful songs delivered in soulful voices. This, I discovered, in the fabled Shillong Chamber Choir (SCC), one of my two favorite groups, the other being Cape Town Youth Choir. Yes, I listened non-stop to SCC – especially their Christmas Carols and hymns. If their association with Shillong filled my heart with pride and joy, their sincere piety completed my felicity. When I heard Ibarisha sing about the night divine – the night felt divine. I have never met any SCC member in person. But after listening to them non-stop, over several days, I felt I knew them. I grew fond of them – but sad that I had not watched them grow up.
Yet, more than the SCC members, it was their mentor and inspiration – Neil Nongkynrih, or “Uncle Neil” as the kids called him – that I longed to meet. An impossible wish, given his untimely death on Jan 5, 2022. But longings are what they are. They do not necessarily follow the rules of rationality or realism. It was as if “Uncle Neil” was calling me from the other side (the afterlife) – urging me to remember him. I fulfilled my longing by watching several YouTube vlogs about his illustrious life. What I found would be familiar to anyone who knew him and loved him.
I discovered a person who combined in himself, both a child and an adult. We each have an inner child – often a wounded one, which we are too insecure to express. “Uncle Neil” seemed to know how to switch back and forth from child to adult. A gifted storyteller, he was pure magic to children. He wanted children to be themselves and to blossom. Like a master gardener, he knew how to make his child-flowers blossom. The secret to this, he knew, was the feeling of security. Children blossom naturally when they feel secure.
An unusual person, with in-depth understanding of the nature and purpose of talent – he seemed to understand that all talents come from God, who bestows these gifts, for the sole purpose of serving humanity. This means God can remove a talent as easily as He grants one – often giving talents to those who have suffered – as gift and compensation.
Philosophers have always distinguished talents from moral virtues. For Aristotle, the intellectual virtues (which could be interpreted as talents) are acquired through teaching, whereas moral virtues are acquired by habit. This means the two types of virtues are entirely separate – like parallel lines that never meet. Indeed, talented people can be scoundrels. Conversely, morally great saints and sages can be devoid of talents. So how does one connect, or at least coordinate moral with intellectual virtues?
Given his extraordinary power of faith, “Uncle Neil” – it seemed to me – had discovered multiple ways of coordinating the parallel lines of talent and moral virtue. First, he understood that we do not own our talents – a truism that compels us to be humble before God who is the Source of all talents – serving Him by serving humanity through talent. In this age of vulture-capitalism, “Uncle Neil” understood the special susceptibility and risk of commercialization that plague the arts – the trenchant claw of materialism and inordinate worldliness (through love of name, fame, and money) that can pollute the arts – especially music. By insisting on humility – a virtue often missing altogether in musical maestros – he infused moral virtue into the delivery of music. Indeed, the listener can hear humility in the voice of the SCC singer. Moreover, the choir (like the orchestra) teaches us to subordinate the “I” before the “we,” for the sake of the collective good – invaluable lessons in humility and unselfishness for all walks of life.
I share “Uncle Neil’s” dislike of child stars, while recognizing that it is not their fault, but that of their over-zealous parents, who sell their children for the sake of name, fame, and money. If I had to name a musical antipode to SCC, I would point to Taylor Swift. It is not Swift herself I object to, but her capitalistic approach to music. The will-to-sell is so pervasive that it destroys all self-respect – polluting the arts with greed for name, fame, power, and money. By insisting on humility, and surrender before God, “Uncle Neil” and the youthful SCC members protected themselves from the poison of worldliness that consumes so many gifted artists.
Second, “Uncle Neil” coordinated talent with moral virtue, by letting go of personal ambition – instead letting the stellar career of SCC unfold naturally, following its own God-given trajectory. Young though he was, he was faith-laden enough to understand that when God gives us talents, He also takes care of the careers we need to express these talents.
Third, he coordinated talent with moral virtue, by understanding that music must be delivered with purity of heart. Hence this injunction for Ibarisha – whether you sing for one person or many, you must sing with the same quality – a maxim that meets all the requirements of karma yoga – thus sublimating, altogether, the temptations of capitalistic performances.
Fourth, “Uncle Neil” coordinated talent with moral virtue by healing a state torn apart by violence – with music. Dreaming of replacing the sounds of guns, with those of music in troubled Meghalaya – he fulfilled this lofty aspiration, at least to an extent.
Finally, he coordinated talent with moral virtue, by comingling his musical gifts with extraordinary humanitarianism – especially towards the poor, and the specially abled. Not only a gifted musician, “Uncle Neil” was also a rare mentor and teacher, who combined humanitarianism with tutelage, raising the SCC kids as his own. This was perhaps his foremost gift and calling – something that gave him the most meaning in his life. Other Indians have marveled at the cohesion of the SCC choir members. The secret to their unity and cooperation, lay, not just in their shared religion, ethnicity, language, or even their shared love for music – but in their shared upbringing – above all, in the mentor they shared. Like a fierce mother, “Uncle Neil” watched over them like a hawk – nurturing not just their musical talent, but their character, confidence, and overall wellbeing. This kind of enriching kinship between mentor and mentee is well-nigh impossible in the famous music schools of the west, where this sacred relationship between mentor and mentee is poisoned by utilitarianism, ambition, cold professionalism, and an undue, often inappropriate sense of “equality” – stemming, not from wisdom, or humility, but from incapacity for true moral leadership, inordinate individuality, and mistrust. Thanks to his inspiring mentorship, the SCC was able to perform a post-colonial miracle – cross the impasse between west and east by combining western music with Indian genres – a fusion that would have been impossible in my youth.
After several years in the glamorous west, “Uncle Neil” left to return “home” to Meghalaya – because he had a home to return to. Many Indians, especially those with memories of abuse, have no home to return to. To the Dalit, the Muslim, and many women, the west is a refuge from the horrors of everyday India. They can never call India “home.” But “Uncle Neil” had a “home” to return to – not just because he was somewhat privileged, but because of his uniquely affectionate nature. Yet, he seemed tormented. Like many believers and persons of faith, “Uncle Neil’s” interior life was perhaps tormented by what St. John of the Cross called the “dark night of the soul.” But given his divine longing, this torment was perhaps an impetus to his inner growth. One cannot help but be moved by how much he accomplished within a short lifespan. Although young, he understood that he did not have much time left on earth. Towards the end he seemed to be in a rush. Indeed, what he accomplished was extraordinary. May he rest in peace and may peace come to his grieving family, especially his mother.
Today as his family and the SCC remember “Uncle Neil” on his birthday, may he comfort them from wherever he rests in eternal peace.