Lee Konitz pointedly told me regarding meruvina albums of mine he had listened to: “I think the definition of genius is when someone tries to do what the current leaders in music are doing, finds that impossible, and then develops something new out of necessity.”

My feeling at the time - I was taken aback by the drama of the moment - was how his opinion was based upon personal experience.

During our last conversation, on the phone a few months before he left us in 2020, Lee, very unexpectedly, strongly urged me to begin playing jazz in addition to my composing.

Well, this did come about in a most unusual way.

Sure, I wish Lee was still here to hear me play jazz on the piano. We actually did play alto saxophone and piano duets together one night in 2000, only because I had recently done some housesitting for Nazir Ali Jairazbhoy, where there happened to be a piano I would play.

And I would also play the piano when visiting my childhood home near Jones Beach. Doing so for a friend, she began to cry, and when I asked what was wrong, she said it was the beauty of how I was playing ragas on the piano. That's what sparked me to phone Lee. He was into it and invited me over a night or so later.

It was pretty intimidating entering his music room with a Steinway grand, the only photo in sight being one of his friend Bill Evans literally on the piano.

Even though we were playing ragas, Lee said to me with a not too subtle hint as we concluded: "It sounds like jazz to me!"

You see, while he admired my meruvina music, Lee also wanted me to create something closer to jazz played by humans. I believe he felt I had inside me the potential to make a contribution to the evolution of jazz as he and his jazz teacher Lennie Tristano had done if in my own unprecedented way.

Lee once named a composition after a story I told him. He performed it - I was there - but I don't believe it was ever recorded, or perhaps he or a record label renamed the piece. Don't recall how it goes so I'll likely never know.

My guess is Konitz would have wanted to record with me, perhaps duets, as I've done with legendary percussionists Anindo Chatterjee and Eliot Zigmund on tabla and drums, respectively.

Lee's spirit and music is with me all the time, of course, whether conscious or subconsciouslee.

When Konitz came to Los Angeles to perform at the Jazz Bakery, his preference was to have a late supper with me each night after the gig. During the day we often went for long walks together.

And when he heard I was visiting New York, Lee would say: "Give me a call and don't stall!" He treated me like an equal.

His tunes are a mother_ _ _ _er to learn, probably the most complex ever, echoing those of Tristano.