Murdering A Musician Will Not Stop The Music
once asked a Qawwali at Ajmer Sharif why music was a daily offering at the sufi shrine. He sang there every with his troupe-singers and cussionists of all ages, shapes and es-on the marble floor in front of the gash. The illiterate musician grinned me and said, "Even when a man is just out to commit murder, if he suddenly ars the chimes of a temple bell, he will comatically stop in his tracks for a moments. Music is transformational. mein kachhajadoo hai-akind of thy magic." He talked about this magic of music f it were the most obvious thing in world, as intrinsic to us as our ating heart and as powerful as that year that automatically moves our sin a moment of joy or sorrow. I have often wondered why music has en the medium of expression in temples, mosques, gurdwaras, churches and any place where we forget the small things-the things that otherwise manipulate our minds and sometimes turn us into beasts, even murderers. Perhaps because it is so abstract, and such a universal language, music has the power to take one away from the petty self into that universal space where sound and beauty and love meet what some people call God. Realising its potency, all spiritual traditions speak of music with reverence. Research by neurologists has revealed that our nervous systems are naturally and exquisitely tuned for music. Adjust as we have an instinct for language, we have the same for music-a belief that is behind the Suzuki method of teaching violin to little children, entirely by ear and intuition. It follows the belief that children are naturally inclined to learn music, not to become great performers but, rather, better human beings. My music teacher's favourite story about the power of music was that when the musician-saint Haridas Swami used to sing in the forest, tigers would come and sit quietly, right next to deer and rabbits. Music tames the wildest beasts within us actually, everyone has access to this experience because rhythm and melody guides our inner worlds as well as the universe outside. Our pulse is a formidably regular beat, so is our breath. There is an astonishingly rhythmic rigour in the sunrise, sunset, seasons, tides, or the way, for example, all gulmohar trees blossom at precisely the same time all over, as if Theywere responding to some silent universal drumroll that whispers, "Time to drizzle crimson on the world!" Sound is everywhere, within and around us- a continuum of energy, avital force-but only a part of it can be heard. The greater part is within, unmanifest, and beyond the grasp of conscious experience, but gently guiding our lives. The poet Kabir refeto the roar of silence. The mystic Ru wrote: "Even if the whole world's harp should burn up, there will still hidden instruments playing." The Taliban recently shot dead SusingerAmjad Sabri in Pakistan. Butmurdering a musician is like trying stop a wave in the ocean. Music is far bigger than man. The only way torespond to such horror is to continuehave faith, like the bird that sings in the darkness just before dawn, in anticipation of daybreak.
DISCLAIMER:
The views expressed in the Article above are Namita Devidayal kashmiribhatta.in is not in any way responsible for the opinions expressed in the above article. The article belongs to its respective owner or owners and this site does not claim any right over it.
Courtesy : Namita Devidayal Speaking Tree,Times of India
Murdering A Musician Will Not Stop The Music
once asked a Qawwali at Ajmer Sharif why music was a daily offering at the sufi shrine. He sang there every with his troupe-singers and cussionists of all ages, shapes and es-on the marble floor in front of the gash. The illiterate musician grinned me and said, "Even when a man is just out to commit murder, if he suddenly ars the chimes of a temple bell, he will comatically stop in his tracks for a moments. Music is transformational. mein kachhajadoo hai-akind of thy magic." He talked about this magic of music f it were the most obvious thing in world, as intrinsic to us as our ating heart and as powerful as that year that automatically moves our sin a moment of joy or sorrow. I have often wondered why music has en the medium of expression in temples, mosques, gurdwaras, churches and any place where we forget the small things-the things that otherwise manipulate our minds and sometimes turn us into beasts, even murderers. Perhaps because it is so abstract, and such a universal language, music has the power to take one away from the petty self into that universal space where sound and beauty and love meet what some people call God. Realising its potency, all spiritual traditions speak of music with reverence. Research by neurologists has revealed that our nervous systems are naturally and exquisitely tuned for music. Adjust as we have an instinct for language, we have the same for music-a belief that is behind the Suzuki method of teaching violin to little children, entirely by ear and intuition. It follows the belief that children are naturally inclined to learn music, not to become great performers but, rather, better human beings. My music teacher's favourite story about the power of music was that when the musician-saint Haridas Swami used to sing in the forest, tigers would come and sit quietly, right next to deer and rabbits. Music tames the wildest beasts within us actually, everyone has access to this experience because rhythm and melody guides our inner worlds as well as the universe outside. Our pulse is a formidably regular beat, so is our breath. There is an astonishingly rhythmic rigour in the sunrise, sunset, seasons, tides, or the way, for example, all gulmohar trees blossom at precisely the same time all over, as if Theywere responding to some silent universal drumroll that whispers, "Time to drizzle crimson on the world!" Sound is everywhere, within and around us- a continuum of energy, avital force-but only a part of it can be heard. The greater part is within, unmanifest, and beyond the grasp of conscious experience, but gently guiding our lives. The poet Kabir refeto the roar of silence. The mystic Ru wrote: "Even if the whole world's harp should burn up, there will still hidden instruments playing." The Taliban recently shot dead SusingerAmjad Sabri in Pakistan. Butmurdering a musician is like trying stop a wave in the ocean. Music is far bigger than man. The only way torespond to such horror is to continuehave faith, like the bird that sings in the darkness just before dawn, in anticipation of daybreak.
DISCLAIMER:
The views expressed in the Article above are Namita Devidayal kashmiribhatta.in is not in any way responsible for the opinions expressed in the above article. The article belongs to its respective owner or owners and this site does not claim any right over it.
Courtesy : Namita Devidayal Speaking Tree,Times of India