GV 3.0 – A Shishya’s Perspective

The Learning Space My Guru Creates

Before a note is sung or a phrase is shaped, my Guru creates something fundamental: a learning space grounded in ease, attentiveness, and trust.

As a shishya, I am encouraged to arrive without pretense. Questions are welcome, exploration is natural, and humility emerges organically—not because it is enforced, but because the focus remains firmly on the music. There is no rush to display progress. Instead, there is an invitation to listen deeply, reflect honestly, and allow understanding to unfold in its own time.

This atmosphere is the foundation on which everything else rests.

GV 1.0 – Velocity, Brilliance, Ascent

Those who followed Gayathri Akka’s early years often speak of momentum—of a rapidly rising career, a confident presence on the concert platform, and a voice that carried both strength and precision.

This phase was defined by velocity: absorbing vast musical material, performing extensively, and establishing a strong artistic identity. GV 1.0 laid a formidable foundation—discipline, technical clarity, and uncompromising respect for classical grammar. Even today, as a student, one senses how deeply this grounding informs every musical choice she makes.

GV 2.0 – Pause, Silence, Recalibration

After years of intense public engagement came an eight-year break from the concert stage. For those of us who now learn from her, this phase feels less like an absence and more like a turn inward.

When Gayathri Akka returned, the music carried a different quality. Choices were more deliberate. Expression felt deeper and more spacious. Teaching acquired a quiet generosity. GV 2.0 was about recalibration—about allowing music to mature alongside lived experience.

GV 3.0 – Faith, Resilience, Music as Companion

GV 3.0, for me, is the most profound phase of my Guru’s journey.

During her battle with breast cancer, Gayathri Akka did not step away from music. Even as her body went through treatment and recovery, she continued to teach—sometimes gently, sometimes with visible effort, always with sincerity. Classes did not stop; they simply adapted. The pace shifted, the energy varied, but the connection to music remained unbroken.

What was extraordinary to witness as a shishya was how music became a language through which she expressed what words could not. Certain phrases were explored more softly, certain ragas lingered longer, certain silences were allowed to stay. Without explanation or announcement, the music carried what the body and mind were navigating at that time.

For me, this phase carried a deeper resonance. Having lost my brother to cancer, watching my Guru walk through her own journey with steadiness and faith was deeply moving. It reshaped how I understood strength—not as resistance, but as presence.

There was never a sense of giving up—only of listening more carefully.

Faith played a quiet but unwavering role in this phase. Faith in music. Faith in the body’s intelligence. Faith in time. There was an unspoken trust that music would hold, guide, and restore. And it did—not dramatically, not performatively, but with composure and grace.

As students, we did not feel like observers of a difficult phase. We felt like participants in a living lesson—one that showed us that music is not something you step away from when life becomes demanding, but something you lean into.

GV 3.0 is not defined by what she went through, but by how she stayed with music through it all. Experience has brought a deeper calm, a quieter confidence, and an even more attentive way of listening—to the raga, to the moment, and to the human condition.

This phase has shaped not only how she sings and teaches, but how we, as students, understand what it means to walk with music over a lifetime.

The GV Style of Learning – Timeless and Complete

While these phases help us understand where she stands today, the GV style of learning itself is timeless.

In a world where everything seems driven by speed, quick results, and constant adrenaline, learning music can easily become about racing forward. In contrast, learning with my Guru has a bit of everything—pace and pause, intensity and ease, challenge and rest.

It is not slow.

It is not rushed.

It is complete.

From the Table to the Raga

I often draw a parallel with food.

We are surrounded by fast meals and rapid consumption. Even fine dining is sometimes designed for efficiency. But where I live in Europe, there is another tradition I deeply value: long, unhurried dinners by a fjord, unfolding over four to six courses.

Each course has intention.

The sequence matters.

Ingredients are chosen with care.

Pauses between courses are part of the experience.

And vegetarians are never an afterthought—there is abundance, imagination, and balance.

This is exactly how learning unfolds in the GV style.

A raga is not introduced and moved past. It is allowed to reveal itself gradually. The alapana sets the atmosphere, like an opening course preparing the palate. Sangatis are layered thoughtfully, respecting proportion and structure. Tempo is chosen with sensitivity—not to impress, but to serve the raga.

Even silence plays a role. A pause after a phrase allows the music—and the student—to settle. Over time, learning becomes immersive rather than transactional.

Why This Way of Learning Matters to Me—and Today

In a time dominated by speed and stimulation, this way of learning has been quietly transformative for me.

It has taught me to listen before reacting, to value depth over display, and to trust that growth does not always announce itself loudly. What stays with you is not just repertoire, but discernment—knowing when to move forward, when to linger, and when to pause.

An Invitation

The GV style cannot be fully captured on the page. It needs to be experienced—by sitting in her class, listening to her guidance, or being present at a concert where music is given the time and space it deserves.

If you are seeking not just instruction, but immersion; not just excitement, but meaning—I invite you to come and experience this journey for yourself.

Some music excites.

Some music impresses.

And some music stays. -Uma Ranganathan

That is the kind of music—and the kind of learning—that defines the GV style.