Rains. 5000 rasikas. Yesudoss.

We raced through the old market area of Chamarajpet where they can tear a lorry apart in hours and weld on both sides of the pavements. The dark clouds had taken over Bangalore's blue tarpaulin and our auto-driver assured us of good rains.

Outside the wall of Old Fort School, the queue of rasikas snaked to the ticket counter. There were over a hundred, some pulling out tne umbrellas as the drops fell.

Inside the Big Tent, there must have been some 5000 people. or more. At least 300 of them were standing, and a few began to inch closer to the stage and private guards sternly discouraged them.

Yesudoss had started on time - how can he not keep to his dad's dictums even in this day?

The music was rolling as lightning faintly lit up the skies outside the tent. Those who had grabbed tickets outside, came running in, grabbing chairs left at the canteen while Mandali head, Varadaraj and his team scurried for more chairs on this Big Evening.

In this day and age, Yesudoss is still a big draw.

What makes his so attractive?

A music that is frilled by his playback singing experience? Or the wide reach of his cassettes and CDs? Or the sheer depth in the voice?

Yesudoss must have bathed his rasikas with three hours of music on that rainy night.

We had to leave - there were a few dozen rasikas still looking for tickets.

The hosts could have invited them in - the rain was steady.

We headed to Ravindra Kalakshetra off J C Road; streams of rainwater rushed down the incline ( was bangalore rain-water harvesting?). We were in for the final play of a drama fest which honored a great theatreperson, CGK.

Old friend and playwright Pralayan was here, presenting his play which takes off on the Silapaddhikaran epic. 26 artistes, mostly from Pondicherry.

The rain had washed out the open air play plan. The play was held in the lobby. And 200 people, wet and cold sat down to watch it.

Bangalore's dedication.