John McLaughlin and Zakir Hussain at Science City auditorium before the performance on Friday evening. Picture by Pradip Sanyal

Twenty-one years since we last came to Calcutta. What made you wait so long?? John McLaughlin teased the full house in Science City Auditorium. ?All we needed was a little invitation.?

It takes more than just an invitation, more than a word from Mahavishnu, to get a world-class musical act to Calcutta these days, Mr M. It takes something else with a capital M. So Calcutta must thank the organisers, Zakir Hussain Promotions and Pancham Nishad (from Mumbai), for managing enough of that M to put this music-mad metro back on the world music map. Shashi Vyas of Pancham Nishad even reminded the audience that ours was the first Indian city to host Shakti, back in 1984, a distinction to be proud of.

Friday night at Science City was worth the wait, especially for people like me who, as teenagers, idolised McLaughlin and Zakir for their contribution to fusion in the 1970s. If the producers have recorded it, the album may well rival Remember Shakti?s biggest latter-day hit, Saturday Night in Bombay (2001), as long as they don?t repeat the boo-boos in the liner notes (among other things, the writer had placed Bombay on the Sea of Oman). And the rather retrospectively named Remember Shakti will no longer live in the shadow of the original quartet, for we will most certainly remember this concert. Two thousand five hundred spectators heard five virtuosi at their improvisatory peak over 135 minutes, non-stop.

Those are the stats. The real story lies elsewhere. The music celebrated life, its variety and its rhythms. In contrast to the stiff-upper-lip attitude at most classical and even jazz shows nowadays, the musicians here visibly enjoyed themselves, the company of their fellows, and the art they created. They smiled, they laughed, they joked, they flailed their arms in every direction.

They embodied the beauty of live performance ? the electricity that one can feel in live theatre and dance too, but one can never catch on CD or video: the artiste creating on the spot, in front of you, here and now and gone tomorrow, not there and then and preserved forever.

Winter rain did not dampen Calcutta?s appreciative music enthusiasts from flocking and queuing up patiently. After a half-hour delay due to VIPs who had not arrived on time (which proved how democratic we are), the basic foursome of McLaughlin, Zakir, mandolinist U. Shrinivas, and V. Selvaganesh (son of original member ?Vikku? Vinayakram) on kanjira (tambourine), ghatam and mridangam, opened with Shrinivas seriously threatening to steal McLaughlin?s thunder with a sizzling solo. Then singer Shankar Mahadevan entered, his dulcet voice soaring on Karuna and Five-peace band.

ready the pace had heated up, capturing Shakti?s trademark of racing tempos that leave you breathless, before Lotus feet, their old standard, dropped the pulse to more normal levels. Zakir?s more recent Manota took Mahavishnu Orchestra buffs back to the spiralling crescendo riffs that characterised McLaughlin?s path-breaking jazz-rock ensemble, and showcased the McLaughlin we know (otherwise comparatively subdued, perhaps because of a severe throat infection) on a typically bluesy break.

Shrinivas? composition Maya featured a four-way sawal jawab within the band, followed by the introduction of hometown slide guitarist Debashish Bhattacharya, who had jammed with them on Saturday Night and repeated the number Bell?Alla from that album. Mahadevan returned for an ordinary thumri, Sakhi, which had unnecessary canned atmospheric effects, before Shrinivas once again ?tweaked up? the song, in McLaughlin?s words, with a solo that reminded old-timers of the blazing young McLaughlin.

The percussionists reserved their best for the last, titled Niyati, producing a dizzying destiny-like cascade as, at last, they traded extended turns. Selvaganesh made his tiny kanjira reverberate like an entire drum kit, while powerhouse Zakir, who loves playing to the gallery in the best sense, brought the house down coalescing tablas with his bass drum and cymbal unit as only he can. When a crazed listener screamed ?Ustad? euphorically, he stopped in mid-bol and looked at the audience as if asking ?Who, me?? The stunning coda left all asking for more, in a standing ovation.

But no encore came, leaving many to wonder why. At this point, we may also question the excessively earnest role played by the security, more suited to escort Z-class dignitaries. The foreign bouncer took an active interest in booting all photographers out, while the locals threw an impenetrable cordon round the inner circle. True, these are international stars, but this city isn?t Delhi. Calcutta adores artistes and has always given warm after-concert thanks in person to her guests. To deprive the fan (and musician) of this reciprocity seemed churlish.

That had not been the case when Tal (formed by Jai Talwar and yours truly) brought Shakti here in the previous century. In our present rush to globalise, let?s not forget the human touch. Sorry, John, that I couldn?t get to talk to you about music and life for The Telegraph?s readers. Our loss is greater than yours.