Monday, February 4, 2013

Story # 7:
Strange but True! The Origins of “Chutney” from Canal No 2!

      What? You may say, what has Canal No 2 has to do with Chutney music? OK! Let me re-introduce myself to you. I am George Nandan. My birth name is “Nankissure Raghunandan” AKA “Sunny.” The youngest of the ‘Raghunandan” boys. I was born at Lot 23 South Section, Canal No 2 Polder. Currently Christ Ambassador Church under my brother Pastor Harry Raghunandan (Paulo) from Holloywood, Florida is the Senior Pastor. (This church does not represent the interests my family but is on its own).  A Dutch designed village in the county of Demerara. Located in the small English speaking country of Guyana, North of Brazil and East of Venezuela. The Canal itself was dug by African Slaves.
"Creativity is the essence of life"
George Nandan

       One of our young ones asked me for a true story, from my boyhood days to write for her school assignment. It got me thinking! What can I tell her so that it sounds bizarre but true? The origins of “Chutney” from Canal No 2! Oh yes, Canal No 2 has it’s played a vital role in “Origins of Chutney” too. You are not going to “Read all about it or hear/watch all about it” from the media. What in the world! How can this be? What are you saying George? Yes and yes and a more resounding yes. So now that I got your attention, let me go back in time to prove my point.
            Photo: Memory lane.......It was me back in 1982!!!!It was my Guyana Passport pic.......
Me in 1983 when I left Canal No. 2

 
Me in 1990 when I visited Canal.

      This true story is and was before the days of “Christ Ambassadors Church,” before Morocco’s Variety Store,” most weddings and probably still now, were that of the traditional Hindu faith. As I recall invited or not, the whole village was in a joyous mood. The neighbors were simple and very resourceful sharing everything they possibly can. When the suitors doing the “Agya-wok” boy and girl decided that they “liked each other” is settled. This sets off certain chain of events, that only a Hindu wedding can feature in a typical Guyanese village atmosphere. Next came the influence of the “Pandit” that according to the Hindu calendar will guide the parents to an appropriate wedding date. As the wedding date approaches, arrangements are made to start gathering all the necessary ingredients and/or materials. Such festive occasion calls for everyone around to be assigned different duties to perform.




       As a little Canal Dude, I remember going on many such adventures with the elder Dudes to locate and find “Bamboo that is used exclusively for making the “Maro,” especially for the ceremonial big and tall one is raised as a token of the marriage union for all to witness.  These also included the “Puri” leaf. I probably still got the marks on my skin from the scratches from my puri-leaf adventures. Bear in mind that I have not visited Canal No 2 since 1990 and do not know if such traditional practices have endured to this day or some version of it. 

       The best part/s of such an auspicious occasion depends on the individual. I was asked for mine so I will tell you my favorite part. But if you paid any attention to my amateur style of poetry, songs and writing, you would know that I will have to pre-condition you and explain before I transition you. You may say ah! What’s the point in all this? But read on! My friend read on! It’s the “Maticor” singing session.



Me...Artist of the Year for "Original Works" in 2000
 
      Certain rites must be performed by the “Dullaha-to-be,” (Bridegroom-to-be), and “Dullahin-to-be”, (Bride-to-be). If I am lucky to be on the “Dullahin-to-be” side, then that’s where this story mostly takes place. In one of my other stories I briefly wrote about this. This event had my attention and peaked my curiosity, “Curious George.”  Hence my reputation to be later named “George” by my eldest sister Sharon Naraine formerly “Gowrie Chandra Raghunandan.”

    My father was one of the top “Ramayan Dolak” players at the time in Canal No 2. My mother took no back seat and developed into one of the best “Maticor Dolak,” players also. Dad taught mom “Hindi,” which brings me to the point, when they would disagree and argue, they would do it in Hindi to this day. I was the only one that knows some Hindi so they would stop and wait for me to leave before they resume. Of course I would hide close by and listen in. I was curious Mon! Here in America they call it 'being nosey."

Receiving Original Artist of the Year Award
from the Big Man himself back in the day!
        In my ancient Boyhood days Canal No 2 used to be graced by the likes of Sohani Combo with my cousin Indira from Wales, De-Originals from Georgetown along with The Merrytones among numerous others. I have had reports of the Naya Fasana Band that formed and performed after I left Canal.. But in my boyhood days there were certain talents such as the In addition to my cousin singing with Sohani Combo, my parents in music at the time, my elder brother (Paulo) playing Drupattie, Sundar Popo and Ramdeo Chaitoo songs on our Cassette Player not to mention Ishri Singh, Sunny Mohammed and Pradeep Kumar who in my opinion laid the foundation for our modern DJs to express their artistic interests.The Sookoo brothers (Bobs, Pranko and Son), Maticor nights, singing all the Patriotic songs at Kawall Primary School, vocalizing Bollywood songs at GTI, etc, that influenced my poetry and songs and ultimately fueled my ambitions in the arts. Did I mention singing on my favortie Jamoon tree while the cows graze? So, now that we got through those out of the way lets ease our way into the story.                                                                                                                                                                                  
Me in 2004. The year I retired from
singing.

       How many of you remember “Auntie Gangadai”? Heads and David’s mother? Some of you that were around would if not find out who she was. She is part of our “Canal No 2 Artistic History.” If Canal No 2 had an Artistic Hall of Fame, she would be the first inductee. Now Auntie Gangadai was the unofficial “Real Maticor Chutney Queen” of Canal No 2. Not Queen Yasmin. The Canal Gyal song was sung by many Aunties since the fifties and sixties outside of Canal No 2 whenever a Dullahin got married and taken outside of Canal. It was a song intended in the begining to mock and tease the Canal Dullahin that she does not know anything else but "Chunkay Plaintain". At the time Canal was known as a farming community with "Paggase) fertile soil.                                                                               

         How do I know? Well ask the senior folks from in and out of Canal. I was curious wasn't I?  Remember I was a “Sybala” and pretty good looking one at that, so the elder girls and senior ladies don’t mind having me around accompanying my mom as the dolak carrier. I even accompanied my dad and learned to play both styles of dolak, Maticor and Ramayan to this day. See my other stories on those. Getting back to Auntie Gangadai and my mom. My mom was her Dolak player of choice.Auntie Gangadai was my favorite singer. She was unstoppable at the time. When it comes to singing my mom was no slacker. She would help the other senior ladies back up Auntie Gangadai, while playing the dolak and singing too.

Me and Avi-Supertones Band 1999
        Before we proceed any further, let me ask you a question. How did this “Chutney” thing ever got started anyway? Test your knowledge? If you have not learned the true origins of “Chutney?” It’s OK Mon! I was there, so I can tell you from experience. In the early seventies, Maticor nights in Guyana and probably Suriname and Trinidad, took on a whole new meaning. In Canal No 2, the senior ladies of the village were well respected and cherished for their experiences in life. Auntie Gangadai was like a ‘Mai,” Mother, “Nannie” Maternal Grandmother and “Aji”, Paternal Grandmother. She will captivate her audience. 

        Now these groups of senior ladies was the early unsung and unnoticed “Pioneers of Chutney.” Now OK! George or Sunny or whatever you choose to call me, you may say, that’s your opinion? Of course I have one too but read on! What were they singing? That is the question? Isn’t it?

Avi and me 2013. After recording 'Girl from GT" song.
       Well! Did you figure out how I was able to observe and benefit from this special event on Maticor night yet? One, I knew most Hindi, so I understand the lyrics. Two, I was my mom’s privileged dolak carrier, so I have exclusive backstage pass. Three, the senior ladies had the guts to defy the religious establishment.                                             

       I admired those Seniors Aunties and how they defied the odds. They came up with ‘Romantic and Erotic lyrics in Hindi” and made unofficial songs about the anticipated sexual experiences between the  (Dullahin (Bride) and her Dullaha (new Husband).” Case on point, can anyone remember the singers “Drupattie” and “Ramdeo Chaitoo?” They were among the first recorded artists among others of early chutney, along religious aspects. How about “Sundar Popo?” Well they are credited for starting modern day chutney. 
Yep! Me in 2014

        Well! I would beg to differ! It was these brave and unconventional Senior Aunties such as Auntie Gangadai from Canal No 2 and her counter parts all over Guyana, Suriname and Trinidad that really defied the odds and did anger the religious status-quo. Yes once again, I was there so I know. At the time of this writing my  mom is still alive and can confirm my silly claims.

       Which brings me to this point? Do you think Chutney Singers these days are as creative and bold as those precious Aunties of that bygone era were? What would you write? If you have to do a school paper? How would the Senior Aunties feel that the unintended “Music Genre” they solely created, is being watered down ? Out of respect for their efforts and a tribute to their memory, I chose to remain an original, true to the romantic and erotic nature of the lyrics they intended.
       I recorded over 18 original songs and counting with Avinash Singh Leader of the former Band I was a member back in the day. My latest song "Girl from GT" remains unmatched for melody and lyrics and has earned the respect to be made into a movie. Yes filming will also be done in Canal No.2 as well.

       Any song can be arranged in any music form. Now that you know the true origins of “Chutney.” You can do your part of spreading the word so that no one can, especially from India can mock us that we do not use our brains to create our own music. These Aunties paved the way by standing up to their “Domineering husbands” and the “Religious Status-Quo” of their day. I did my part that also went unnoticed just like their efforts. Remember “All that glitters is not gold.” This is just a Dude’s opinion that remains true. An Original Talent 

     Many thanks for your kind words and support. Please take the time to learn our Heritage and pass it on to our Young Ones. If not they will seek other avenues to fill that void...My personal observations of course.......I am around them a lot these days in college so I get a first hand view of their missing cultural identity!




Saturday, December 15, 2012


Story # 6. A Snake, Three Mangoes and my Favorite Jamoon tree.
By George Nandan (2012)
Just to give you a backdrop to this true story. I will tell you a little about my first Hero, my Dad. Dad is a book all by himself. President Obama wrote a book “Dreams from my Father.” I believe every father could be a subject including mine. Many people have disagreed with my thinking that Dads are crucial to a child’s upbringing.
"Imagine a world without Love. Now Imagine a family without love! Not good for the human soul."
George Nandan
As a boy growing up, I observed a lot of things from the grown up males around me. They simply were not taught how to express their love and appreciation for the ones closest to them. From a young Boy, I took the time to go against the grain of the times; and chose not to join with my friends to smoke and consume alcohol. Just to prove that I am a man or what we call in Canal (Force Ripe…lol..)
Coming back to my Dad, he was in many ways unconventional. Our land in Canal # 2 for the most part is swamp. Dad used a system of drainage that revolutionized the intervals of swamps and made them into crop producing land still used to this day. Folks may even recall him making a raft from Etay Palm trees to transport his “Ton Wood” in the Conservancy; with our two bulls.  But that’s another story for another day. He used the same to make a bridge for “Back Line” also. Still another story for another day.
Jamoon trees were the norm all over our land in those days. Dad took his axe and went to work on all of them. He literally dug them out of from the stump to make room for his Sugar Cane crops. Now what I remember from my Boyhood days is when I reached the age of eight years, my life became as busy as you can get.
 Take a look at the figure below, these were my main tasks. You will see that each time I got the opportunity to develop my talents; it was like I won the Lottery especially listening to the following bands from my boyhood days...


Sohani Combo


Merrytones


De Originals


Dil Bahar


Melody Makers among others...

I have decided to write this because like any Father, I am struggling to maintain my connection to my college age son. Mostly because he is under the assumption that I would never understand the challenges facing Teens and Young People in general.
Well, permit me to make a statement here. In my line of work, I have spoken to quite a few young people who attempted to take their own life. They had one common denominator. They do not feel “CONNECTED and/or LOVED” by their families. I know I am supposed to keep this about my artistic journey. As you can see I am artistic and do have many hidden talents.
Anyway this is a Cat: 2, Item c) related story. After school (Kawall Primary), my immediate chore is to take our two bulls; Tarzan and Whitestar to graze in the swamps in the “Backdam”…lol. Now since dinner is not ready at that time 3:00 pm in the afternoon. I had to snack on fruits to keep me up until about 6:00 pm when I bring the bulls home. Cattle have to eat nonstop for about 3-4 hours before they are full. Then they would relax and chew their cud for another 3-4 hours.
At the time in Canal, some sort of fruit is always available to eat, from cashews, oranges, mangoes, sugar cane, pineapple, etc. This time around mangoes are in season. Mangoes are one of nature’s best kept secrets. Rich in anti-oxidants and electrolytes for the heart.
I put together my plastic, just in case of rain. I untied our two bulls, yoked them together on the “Juwat”,..lol.. and connected the slide; and started to proceed to the spot to let them do their thing. The ‘Bull and Slide” was a normal thing back then. On our way I stopped to picked three mangoes from our Spice mango three to snack on in our backyard. I chose the best three and continued my journey.
One of our bulls, I named Tarzan. He is very special. He was born and grew up with us, so I was very fond of him. More adventures with Tarzan in the future. By the way he hated my youngest sister Serena (Seerie) for good reason. She used to tease him and he would actually walk in the first floor looking for her to 'buut' her....lol. We finally reached their grazing spot at the end of our sugar cane field in the swamp. I untied the bulls and let them proceed to start their dinner while I did my usual. 
I left  my snack of mangoes at the bottom of my Favorite Jamoon tree; and climbed up with my plastic to my favorite limb. Now I would already have selected in my mind, the songs I would sing. I had about three hours to kill anyway, no Cell Phone, Texting, MySpace, IPod, Facebook, YouTube and Internet Mon…lol… So off I go…O Mere Mehebooba, mehebooba…mehebooba…(Oh My Love!) in English! Tuje jana hai.…etc..and then more etc…. In between I would reach out and select whatever juicy Jamoon I could get and snack on them. Being alone in the Backdam with every kinds of sound from the bushes, some pleasant and some was not my favorite. Too many jumbie stories Mon!
I was not hungry so I sang in intervals for about two and a half hours. A few rain sessions (Passing Clouds”…lol…But I was ready with my plastic to cover. I had about half an hour left to prepare my bulls to come home. I called on them to head back as I have trained them to obey my commands. They started their way grazing in my direction. I came down the tree and I sat on my slide; and started to snack on the first of my mangoes. A strange thing happened. As I was eating my second mango, I noticed the grass (Jewgrass) moving in a particular pattern. I sat facing on the Eastside of our land,  the trailer path where the slide is, was located on the West side of our property. It could only mean one thing…SNAKE! I was frightened but kept my cool because I thought he would just go by their merry way. Anyway I had my 22" cutlass ready for action. 
The chap had other plans, he was so barefaced that he kept coming closer. So I decided to get call it a day and meet up with my bulls. I proceeded to walk around the opposite direction where my Dad dug one of his drains. It is his main drain of his drainage system. This  drain ran in the middle of the land so as to not enrage the neighbors. Dad is a Master when he it comes to drainage and irrigation systems. As I started running at the edge of our middle drain to get past, I glanced down and saw him crawling on the ground. At the same time he lifted his head.That scared me to the point of leaping higher in the air. I screamed because of his size and he plunged into the drain and he came in the same direction as me and at the same time as I was cursing his mother, father and every cuss word I know. I ran as fast as I could. After some distance he was not around and probably decided I was not worth the trouble. Remember I was just ten years old at the time.
This got my bulls attention, and sensing I was in some sort of danger, they hurried to meet up with me. As I reached them, Tarzan gave me a funny look, took one swipe at my hand and knocked down my remaining third mango. He proceeded to eat it himself while still looking at me. It finally sunk in, Tarzan meant to tell me, "why are you so stupid? All the snake wanted was your mangoes; that’s why he was following you". I guess animals know how an animal would think. How am I to know?

For a split second I saw how  beautiful the colors of the snake was. It was a “Kamakari.” It had the typical orange, red, and black colors. This thing was beautiful and scary at the same time.  I would not have cared how beautiful it was, if it would have attacked me I would have chopped his head off. What I do know, this Dude has the reputation of being too brave especially the males.
Tarzan had compassion for me and bent his head to the ground and stooped his front shoulders forward. I actually witness him coming into this world. Yes, right at the Backdam. I trained Tarzan in the aspect of riding. I would ride him into the swamp land so I can avoid being scraped by the scrubs.  That is his signal for me to climb on his back and he would bring me to the slide and we can come home.
There is a tropical fly called “Cowfly” that is so annoying to cattle and the darker it gets the more they come out. They can pester the bulls ruthlessly. So Tarzan and Whitestar were ready to get hitched and start their sprint home. Yes they would sprint to shake off the cowflies. With me on the slide.
As we approached the slide, I on Tarzan’s back he did something I would never forget. He started snorting loudly and stomping his feet on the ground. Later I realized that was his way of communicating that I am not by myself and if any animal want a piece of my mango or me for that matter; they would have to come through him. I also noticed Whitestar pacing ahead attentive and looking at every movement. These are my two Boyhood pals plus Rover my dog who refused to come with me that day. Animals are precious and care for you if you care for them.
End.
Thank you for taking the time to read another one of my stories.



Saturday, December 8, 2012


Story # 5: Uncle Deokinanan vocalizing and drum rythms.

I was about seven years old when I first start noticing the individual characteristics of my Dad’s friends. Back in those days, most breadwinners of Canal # 2 earned their income from working in the fields of Wales’s sugar factory and plantation. Dad was a Sugar Cane Harvester (Cane-Cutter) until he suffered a spine injury. His position was reduced to that of a Shovel man.

"The best gift you receive is the one you give. Share your talent today, it may ignite inspiration in others."
George Nandan

Dad’s lifestyle is anything but normal. For someone who never went to school he had many unconventional ideas and wisdom concerning anything agricultural. He was a smoker and a drinker among what was considered normal at the time. One of his friends stood out to me. His name was Deokinanan. Uncle Deokinanan and my parents were linked by commonalities as both our families came from a former village of Jagoo Backdam. A village locate somewhere in West Coast Demerara.

Uncle Deokinanan has a wonderful family and one of his daughters was in my class at Kawall Primary School. I remembered her as Ramdai. She was an avid supporter of my talents. Her dad had one unique characteristic that sets himself apart from my dad’s friends. His love of Bollywood songs.

I remember one particular evening when he came over to our house. I was nine yrs old at the time. He had a few drinks and was in a very good mood. Dad was not home but we invited him to stay until dad came home. I believe he needed dad’s advice on sugar cane farming or something along those lines.

Back then we were privileged to have an electric radio as we had a brother (Paulo that went to study in Montreal, Canada). I am talking early to mid seventies. Very few families in Canal # 2 had relatives overseas. Everyone in the village was proud and supportive whenever someone would immigrate overseas.   So back to my story. Uncle Deokinanan also love to tell stories.

This night was a Monday night and the Old is Gold program of Bollywood programs was on. He sang along with all the songs on the program plus something more unique that inspired me. After the program was finished, as customary we would offer him as our guest food. He was fond of little kids anyway so he felt comfortable with us gathering around him enjoying his entertaining skills.

Uncle Deokinanan was very good at playing various drum rhythms on our table. This was the beginning of my desire to do the same along with the inspiration of the Sukhoo family. But that’s another story for another day.  By the time dad came home we all had fun with Uncle Deokinanan but then it was time for bed and a long day of chores and school ahead the next day.

To make a long story short…to this day I can match almost any Bollywood song not only vocalizing them but also playing rhythmic drum sounds on any surface……. It’s the little things that inspire and impress a young mind to reach for the stars…who knows there is still hope in me yet… Take the time to encourage a little and/or grown up little artistic mind to develop what has been planted in them.

Many, many more true stories and stops of my artistic journey are yet to come. Remember I am not a professional writer at least not yet. I will write as my time and memories allow… To be con’t…..Thanks for reading. Please feel free to share my blog...........

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Story # 4:   Coins in my Water.  (My Sybala Memory)   By George Nandan                                 


At the tender age of four yrs. One of my cousins got married, a traditional Hindu Wedding Ceremony at the time. As I recall my neighbor Auntie Shama and my mom Auntie Baby, did something different. I had long thick black hair, with fair skin and a sunny composition. They had me sit down cleaned me up and prepped my hair. Kind of what the Hair Dressing Salons do in curling styles these days.


 "True Love requires no compensating factors or set conditions..."
George Nandan

Now I was too playful to pay any attention. I was thinking, big deal they probably wanted to me look more cute anyway. I was already mentally prepared for multiple pinches on my cheeks anyway. But to my surprise a few days later my Uncle Harry Hing came in with a nice shiny costume. Still running around playing with the kids, I had no cares but to enjoy playing with my siblings and my neighborhood full of kids.

Long before Barney, as kids we had almost nothing, no toys, just our imagination. We were too poor anyway. Food on the table comes first. Of course my elder siblings were very creative and made homemade toys but none equal to Toys R Us.



                                              This picture was taken facing West in 1970.

To your right is Lull on the bicycle, Indo, then me "Sunny", then Naro, then its Gope holding Seerie in his left hand. Sorry if the picture is fuzzy. Notice the us five kids had no shoes back in those days. I was six years old. Our home had mud walls and the kitchen had a grass roof. I nearly burned down our house playing with matches but that's another story for another day. I have to keep this artistic not mischievous Well probably a mixture of both.

Anyway getting back to point. My Uncle called me to his side. He asked me if I know what the costume looking thing was for? I said no because I never paid attention anyway. He said he is going to get me married. So I responded by said Uncle I cannot get married I don't have a job and besides I am not big like Dad. He smiled and said that its OK, I want to try this on you. Shocked, I got inquisitive. Now I know my Uncle Harry Hing is the most established Tailor in the whole village, so this must be important.

I started to recognize the costume and the significance gradually. Now I became silent as my Uncle Harry is trying the outfit to see how it fits on me and I suddenly feel its importance. It is once of a lifetime opportunity that only a few little boys can have the honor of. The honor of being a "Sybala". A 'Sybala" is a cherished role played by cute little boys accompanying the "Dulaha" or bridegroom to the bride's residence. Sometimes the "Sybala" can be steal the show and the bride's heart....lol...

In the western world a "Sybala" can be interpreted as a "Minnie Me" version of the Bridegroom. Well all of that is nice and good and everything but wait there's more if you call within the next thirty minutes...nah just kidding.

The time came for us to travel to Interprise/Numprel on the East Coat of Demerara. That's where my cousin Hanoman lived. It was his special request that I be his "Sybala". My mother is a Bachelors Adventure girl so her side of the family are all fair skinned. The girls are beautiful and the Dudes look like models...lol... So I have a good blood line. My cousin Hanuman was very pleased with the preparation my mom arranged on me.

I remember at that particular wedding, it started one week before and two weeks later the music is still going. It was my first real experience of culture, music and an appreciation for the arts. Any typical Hindu wedding in my native country Guyana is an adventure by itself. Many documentaries can be made.

As I was sitting after the ceremony is over, I noticed people started gathering looking at me. Many young girls and aunties came over and starting the usual ...pinching me on the cheeks, ah well no big deal. My eldest sister Chan who is mostly my caretaker along with Mavis Diddy (Hanuman the bridegromm's sister) in my childhood days, left to bring me some food. I was starving. Mavis Diddy is my favorite of all my cousins but that's another story for another day.

 Mavis Diddy came back with my favorite, Dhall and rice with catahar. This time in a puree leaf. The official plate of any Hindu wedding in Guyana. So I started eating and soon afterwards she brought me a cup of water and then she disappeared to mingle with the others.

I do not think she realized what she did by leaving me all alone because the guests had me all for themselves. As I was shoveling down because I was hungry. Just as I was about to reach out for my drink of water a strange thing happened. Some Uncle put a twenty five cents coin in my water.I am like what in the world is wrong with that uncle.  (I got to understand later that he was Uncle Charlie who nearly fought off my Dad thinking he cannot have such a fair skin son)...but that's another story for another day. He must be drunk or happy. I guess he was both.

In Guyana back in the days, everyone older that is older than you, you must treat them with respect. Grown ups are called either uncle or auntie. Older boys are called Buddy then their name and older girls are called Diddy then their name or vice versa. As for me when no one is looking I call the older kids their names.

I was hungry and now I am thirsty. But I cannot drink because some uncle threw a coin in my water. Soon afterwards other gusts followed suit with nickels and dimes and pennies. Not even Mavis Diddy nor my sister is anywhere to be found, so I was agitated. I enjoyed the admiring and staring and even the pinching on my now sore and painful cheeks but don't mess with my food and water Mon! This Canal boy can get upset. The villagers must have sensed how extremely agitated I was, because I could not drink and they kept putting  more and more coins in my water. The only thing that kept me calmed me down was the soothing tunes of Hindi Filmi songs that folks these days named Bollywood.

All of a sudden my cousin Hanuman the Bridegroom came around to check up on me. He came with a special request from his new bride Bhougie Gita. But I told I am thirsty and  these people are making fun of me. He picked me up in his arms and took me to his bride who gave me water and soda with her own hands.I enjoyed both their company until Mavis Diddy came looking for me and took me away.

Looking cute or not, don't mess with a Dude's water Mon! Especially a "Sybala".

Thank you for reading......Please share and/or subscribe....Please encourage a little one today to never give up on his/her dreams.....

To be con't...........


           

Sunday, November 25, 2012


Story # 3:  Moved to Tears at the Matya in Canal #2, Guyana!

When I was six years old, my father taught me my fist Hindi devotional song. Sometimes I wish my parents would have pictures of me around that time. I heard many stories that I was a head turner, and could vividly remember specific events as if it was yesterday. This is just one of many I will share with you.



“Life can get in the way of your dreams, just find ways to make  them happen anyway!”
                                                                          George Nandan


Somehow he had this grand idea that I would be singing at the Hindu Mandir (Hindu House of Worship) in no time. That is great and everything but he forgot to tell me that I would be singing one morning,  so I was totally unprepared. When the head of the Ramayan Group announced that I (Patrick son “Sunny” will sing for you (Ram racko Prabhu tuhee mere nath).  I was shocked at first but quickly got over it. The attendees were mostly conservative Hindus from the bottom half of the village. I had an admiration for those type of worshipers. No one had any agenda of impressing their neighbors at that time. It came from their heart.

Now I remember I had a few classmates in attendance, so I thought I could get it over with and gain the admiration of the girls so what do I have to lose? So time came for me to start. Another member was on the dolak, if you have asked me, I would have rather my Dad to be playing the dolak because he knows my style, after all he was the one who taught me the song.  There was also a regular Kirtan Group but I belong to my Dad’s Ramayan Group.  So here we go Ram rackho Prabhu tuhee mere nath….Awo aba mujhe keeja sath….So I thought good chorus done but the Dude said again….then again…then again…then again...I was thinking what’s wrong with this uncle? He's gone crazy…I wanted to move on so bad to the first verse but I was stuck with this Dude on the chorus…

So in my own little world I could not believe what was happening. I could not get past the chorus with him. Dad could not get involved and the Kirtan uncle on the harmonium is saying nothing. So in protest my brains did something I could not believe to this day. I stopped singing and begin to cry…more so in protest that they did not let my dad handle the situation. I could not get past the first two lines of the song.  I could hear the aunties started sighing awwwww. That day I got a few extra pinches on my cheeks, and if you look closely they may still be there.

Unfortunately at the age of six that’s when I started at  Kawall School in Prep A. My celebrity status came to a screeching halt, when one of the boys that were in attendance at the Mandir took it upon himself to spread the word that I was a crybaby. Anyway, he meant well and I lost conatct with him these days. I can only immagine the fun we will have laughing about it.

To make a long story short even at that young age of six, I never stopped singing and although life can get in the way. I am always the simple and silly “Canal Bai.”

Thank you for your support!
To be con't.....

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Story # 2: Singing on my five miles walk, Stanley Town to Home.


After leaving and moving on from Kawall Primary School. I enrolled in GTI after my second try. I remember how shocked my friends were when they learned of it and had their doubts. I was fifteen when I started my technical studies plus what I missed out from not being able to attend high school.


"Leading by example is the best form of Leadership"
George Nandan

Folks may not understand that back in those days only those who had the means were able to attend either Patentia or West Demerara high schools. But me no way I wanted better and to make it count. This "Canal Bai" like to love to make it happen against all odds. I had to be different. This took place in 1979. I stayed the course and endure the hassles of the Tata bus and ferry crossings. Even make it home by 11:00 pm at night by walking 5 miles in the dark from Stanley Town to my home, only to get up the next morning to repeat.  This gives me plenty of time to practice singing on my five miles walk.

I graduated in 1982 and in 1983 I left Canal # 2 and immigrated to New York, USA via Toronto Canada.
                                                             George Nandan in 1982

I will always remember the fresh smell of Maple leaves and the refreshing Canadian fall time air. The folks who hosted me introduced me to Hockey on Roller Skates. Soon afterwards it was time for my trip to the US. I arrived in New York and that's another story for another day.

Please note my blog will go back and forth as my memory gets recalled. The main object is realign my artistic journey to write as one of my books which of course would be more professionally written. To help inspire the young ones to develop other avenues of creativity and not be bored. Many a teenager will stay out of trouble and proved the bullies with no talent wrong, if they have something to work on. This is just my opinion.

Thank you for reading.... Please share and/or subscribe...plenty more to come...
Con't...

Monday, November 19, 2012

Story # 1: Humble Beginnings from my Native Village Canal No.2 Polder,Guyana!
Revised # 3- 06/10/14

"Please be advised that these posts are just reflections of my past, present and future aspirations of "My Artistic Journey," and may not accurately present the events in order that they occurred. Updates will be made periodically.Thank you for  supporting local talent"
George Nandan
 
Hi welcome to my Blog. My name is George Nandan. I was originally born in the Dutch designed village of Canal No 2 Polder, West Bank Demerara in Guyana. It is a small country, north end of Brazil bordering the Atlantic Ocean to the North East, Suriname to the North East and of course Venezuela to the West.

 The language on most streets is a "Patwa/broken" form of English (Hinglish) mixture of English/Hindi, but read and write the Queen's English. I live in Florida and want to share my artistic journey with you.

I am by no way shape or form I am a Guyanese born legend. There are many who are mostly unheard of. I had to the pleasure of meeting and performing with quite a few. Perhaps I am still researching if I am the only one from Canal # 2 with over eighteen original poems that I add melodies to; and had music added to make into songs. there are a few singers from Canal # 2 who does vocalizing of Bollywood Film songs that I know.

However, there you may never heard of me or many other singers from Guyana. Permit me to offer this explanation. From 1999 to 2004, I recorded over eighteen originals songs by the then teenager, Avinash Singh (Avi). He is a Superstar in the Chutney Shows these days. But it took him years of trial and error. I know I was with him in those days of struggle. My songs were primarily featured mainly on the "Local Talent Show" with Bhawanie Singh and the "Farouk Juman Radio Program." Both on WPAT AM Stereo 930 NY/NJ/CT. I also helped with the engineering of the Local Talent Show. These two gentlemen , in my opinion are some of the unsung heroes of local talent in New York to this day.

 Long story short, 
"True love comes by giving it first. The rewards are awesome!"
George Nandan

George Nandan 2013
 
Back to my explanation, we did not had any social media. As a former member of the now popular Supertones Band with Avi, we had Flyers and word of mouth. Now Social Media has taken over. In my childhood days, I grew tired of vocalizing Bollywood tunes. I also represented Canal # 2 while attending GTI from 1979/80 to 1983, in all the cultural shows. Funny thing is they could get my birth name  "Nankissure Raghunandan" right so they would just call me "Canal Bai".


Back then there were no FACEBOOK, TWITTER, GOOGLE+, ORKUT, TUMBLR, BLOGGER, MYSPACE, REDDIT, LINKED IN, PINTEREST and of course YOUTUBE plus others.....

I am encouraged to see vocalists, singers and other Indo Caribbean artists using social media to further their exposure of their gifts. There are many avenues and choices for artists to develop. Some may choose to just do vocals on Bollywood songs, some other artists works, others still a mixture of anything goes. One word of caution. Many Indo Caribbean artists that I observe are not rich, if an artist should use another works and get paid its downright wrong. Permission should be obtained from and a some sort of revenue sharing, no matter how small should be arrange and executed. I know it may seem innocent but I had works stolen from me without compensation and it does not reflect professionalism on their part. I will not tolerate any piracy this time around and I monitor my works closely.  I hope Folks get it, it costs time, and money to develop a concept, have music made, record the vocals, copyright, etc. Besides I was told I am not so chutney hence my channel on YouTube.

And now having gotten that out of the way. As a child growing up there were cultural Hindu form of music that I got accustomed to. My dad was also a "Ramayan" singer and 'Dolak/drums" player and singer. This form a of melodious poems in rhythmic musical  accolades in the worship of Lord Rama in Hinduism. Growing up in this environment, I took full advantage of the situation and learn the skills of both my parents. Bollywood Hindi songs played a significant role in my boyhood and teenage years. I have represented my village while attending technical school in Georgetown (GTI) singing Bollywood songs.

Later on as a teenager we somehow became Christians and this brought new opportunities in music.Needless to say I became more familiar with all form of Christian contemporary, Islamic and Bollywood forms of music.

Growing up in Guyana has many advantages in the arts. I got lots of  practice in soca, reggae, steel drum, along with the other genres of music of the rest of the world, especially Techno.

Chutney form of music is the norm for most Indian artists of the Caribbean. Folks who are familiar with me knows I am creative so of course I can do Chutney but will mix in different styles. I was among the first Chutney artists to venture into Techno and other variations in the nineties and 2000's. I took the time to express myself in words of poetry. I still wonder why I wrote most so expressly romantic and downright erotic. I remember the senior ladies of Richmond Hill returning my cassette tapes and cds back to the stores and complaining about one song in particular. That song is "SomeGyal Something Sweeter Than SomeGyal Something". I cannot blame them because I wrote about a girl's personality which the sweeter it is the more a Dude is attracted to her from the inside out instead of the outside in as in the case of physical beauty. Take it from me ladies, if you want to be a keeper be your Dude's best friend and lover.


"Love is patient. Love is never blind, No matter what, Love is true and Love is kind".
George Nandan


All my stories will be updated from time to time...each time I will post on Facebook, so please keep checking..........They will all continue to evolve until its officially published in electronic book form. MY ULTIMATE GOAL IS TO BECOME A HOLLYWOOD SCREENWRITER. I am already in college working on the Professional skills and along with my socioeconomic status of both a Bachelors Degree in Nursing and in Performing Arts simultaneously.
To be con't..... Please share and/or subscribe....Thank you....

The contents of this Blog and all future Blog are the sole intellectual property of owner George Nandan. All Rights reserved according to applicable copyright laws.Library of Congress, USA.


A Mother's Dream. by   George Nandan Grandpa died while she was still a toddler. She lost her brothers one by one and Grandma had to ...