‘Namaskar. I beg your leave to present before you four shlokabandishes composed in raags Bageshri, Kedar, Mand and Khamaj. The shlokas invoke the four elements—earth, water, ether and sky. They are in Sanskrit so I shall explain their meanings first. The shloka addressed to Earth says: “Let your grace be upon us, you who bear the human race upon your back. Please give us joy.” The shloka to Sky says: “All the elements emerge from you and return to you. You are the final resting place of all things.” To Water: “Darkness was the first to come into being. Then everything was filled with you who have neither shape nor form.” To Air: “You are beautiful, self-contained, thousand eyed. Your radiant chariot is drawn by a thousand stallions.”

‘My friends, I will begin with “Earth”.’

Pandit Mishra closes his eyes, sings the opening notes of Bageshri and moves straight into the bandish. The audience feels ennobled by the sacred sounds of Sanskrit. But Sharada groans as words, melody and beat fight against each other in the composition. Prakash has picked up his brush with a flourish and is painting a Parambindu Yantra with the bindu located within a large triangle. He makes a circle to touch the three sides of the triangle and, beyond it, concentric circles in black moving to the edge of the canvas like sound waves. He rapidly inscribes the words of the shloka at the bottom of the canvas, finishing exactly at the moment that Pandit Mishra sings the last note of ‘Earth’.

The audience bursts into applause at the split-second coordination of the act. ‘That was perfectly rehearsed. Sumitraben is nothing if not a perfectionist,’ Sharada whispers to Janaki.

When Pandit Mishra begins to sing ‘Sky’, Prakash starts off on another Parambindu. Only this time the concentric waves around the central bindu and triangle are in light blue, with the shloka inscribed at the bottom of the canvas in black.

‘Shall we leave?’ Sharada asks. ‘We aren’t getting any music here and even less art.’

‘Can’t.’ Janaki sounds rueful. ‘I’m on duty. But you carry on.’ Sharada moves quietly to the back of the auditorium and leaves. A few others take courage and do the same. Pandit Mishra sings ‘Water’ in Mand and ‘Ether’ in Khamaj. Prakash produces two more Parambindus surrounded by midnight-blue waves for water and grey waves for air. Every time the music and the painting end together as on a sam. The audience is so excited by this phenomenon that they can’t stop clapping. When the last song is sung and the last painting painted, they stand up as one to give the artists a standing ovation which the artists receive with humbly folded hands.