A Well-Oiled Machine - How IISc Students Put Together a Professional Concert

For most people on campus, November marks the culmination of a busy semester, with the final challenge of proving oneself in the end-sem exams. Meanwhile, for a particular bunch, even with those same responsibilities, it is a time akin to magic. It’s not so much the “woah!” accompanying the bunny being pulled out of the hat, but rather the complete experience of a magic trick. The initial feeling of smugness, like you cannot be challenged; the frustration of being unable to understand something right in front of you; and finally making sense of it, which somehow feels even more magical than merely observing a trick in the first place.

What I’m talking about, of course, is Rhythmica’s Diwali Showcase.

When the song selection form starts to circulate, everyone is, as always, hyper-excited to present their niche tastes and for a chance to perform it on stage in front of the whole campus. The list fills up with everything from Bollywood to classical, metal to jazz, and even original compositions. As is customary, almost all of those ideas on the form get purged, leaving the rest of us to go on a wild duck hunt to get cast into the song you want to take part in. Last time around, I was ready. I saw “Bohemian Rhapsody,” and my request was in, faster than people trying to change their mess. And so the journey began!

It was to be acapella (i.e., without instruments), and hence came the smug phase. I’ve sung this song as loud as I can in the shower multiple times before. This ought to be a piece of cake!

Then came the frustration. I was even given the easier harmonies since it was my first year in the club, and it was still maddening. Turns out, belting a song in the shower versus holding your own in a group with nothing but your voice for support is an entirely different ballgame. My line, which sounded so obvious on the recording, kept sliding towards the main melody like a magnet to a fridge, no matter how many fingers I shoved into my ear to hear only myself. “Stay on your note,” Rajameenakshi, the Song In-Charge, would say, with the patience of a saint on the verge of retirement. I would nod solemnly and stay on my note for exactly four bars. The smugness had quietly packed its bags and left.

Caption: The typical practice session at SAC’s music room. Pic. credits: Hrishee Ray

For weeks, the song was a locked box, and everyone else seemed to have the key. (Perhaps an exaggeration, but that’s how it felt listening to practice recordings)

And then, one evening, it clicked. We reached the part where the harmonies stack, and for the first time, every voice landed where it was supposed to. The chord just hung there in the room, and I felt it in my ribs. I stopped being a guy trying not to mess up and became one small, necessary part of something much bigger than me. That, I realized, is the real magic. You don’t understand the trick by figuring out how it works. You understand it by becoming part of it.

I even got to watch this happen to someone else when we ran the workshop at Quarks Quacks.

The idea for the event was simple: complete beginners, a row of keyboards, and the mission of playing along to popular pop songs by the end of the hour. Most of them had never pressed a key in their lives. A few looked like they’d wandered in mid-stroll and weren’t sure how to leave. These were songs everyone has on their playlists. They sound polished, complicated, untouchable.

Then we showed them the notes, the chords printed out on A4 sheets, and I watched my own journey play out in fast-forward. First the smugness (“oh, this looks easy”), then the frustration (“wait, which key?!”), and finally, a face lighting up as their own two hands produced a song they’d heard a hundred times. The trick had been revealed, and the best part was finding out that with practice, they could do it too.

Caption: A scene from the Quarks Quacks music workshop. Pic. credits: Vivek Menon

And that’s what I kept coming back to. The best part of making music isn’t being the magician. It’s the moment you go from watching the trick to being in on it.

Which, I suppose, is exactly what the showcase is: weeks of locked boxes, finally opened, and handed to whoever walks through the door. So if you want a glimpse of all the folly, the struggle, and the triumph (not without a few hiccups at soundcheck of course), come to Rhythmica’s Diwali Showcase this November 15th. Leave the headphones at the door. We’ll be doing this magic live.

Caption: A shot of the stage and the audience at the last Founder’s Day Showcase 2026. Pic. credits: Geeth Sameer.

Caption: A group photo. Pic. credits: Geeth Sameer