Jimi Hendrix and (above) Ananda Shankar

In the late sixties, this young musician from Calcutta, with impeccable credentials and a dream to straddle musical borders, was visiting the west coast of USA. Musically speaking, it was all happening out there, and this young man soon became a part of it all: performing at campuses, meeting megamusicians, playing with them — and with their music, as the Doors (among others) were to discover.

One of these gigs was attended by guitar superstar Jimi Hendrix, brought along by a mutual friend. Hendrix was amazed at our local lad’s sound and reportedly asked him what he was high on, only to learn the young man didn’t do drugs. The two hit it off so well that Hendrix asked his Indian friend to jam with him. And so it came to pass that for a couple of weeks in 1969, the two spent hours, turning into days, playing together in a plush Beverly Hills hotel room. Hendrix had booked an entire floor, and the Indo-American duo made memorable and magical music. Hendrix then suggested that they do an album together.

The young man, at that time without a record to his name, wanted his first release to be a solo effort. So he told Hendrix that they would work on a joint project only after he released something by himself. As it happened, in 1970 Warner Brothers issued the Indian’s debut album on their Reprise label. It created quite a sensation, but the planned joint project with Hendrix was still to materialise when, later that year, the guitar great was found dead in a hotel room.

Meanwhile our local hero had returned to Calcutta, from where he pursued, together with his wife, a career in music and performance. He coined the term ‘mudavis’ for the music-dance-visuals that characterised the spectacular performances of his troupe. Along the way, he won a National Award for music in a Mrinal Sen film; created the tune for the tag defining Dhirubai Ambani’s textiles brand; and had an early hit used as the signature tune of a programme on All India Radio, Calcutta. And generally earned a reputation, if not recognition, for his work in what later came to be popular as world music.

A little belatedly, in the late 1990s, some of his earlier gems were rediscovered — by DJs in London’s night clubs. The newly awakened interest in his music eventually led to a live British tour, and a new album. And then post-operative complications brought things to an abrupt end in late March 1999.

Were any of the Hendrix sessions recorded? What tunes did they work on? Was it all improvisation? I wish I had asked these questions years before, when I first heard the story — while interviewing the man himself: sitarist, composer and musical visionary Ananda Shankar. But he is not around to clarify, and wife Tanusree does not have those details, though she helped me with others. It is 13 years since he moved on. Leaving the music world, as he had come to it, ahead of his time.