by M.Mohankumar
Music pervades the concert hall.
The maestro is singing. Raga sudha rasa
panamu jesi renjilleve O manasa.*
Why am I so moved, so enraptured,
by this music? Jazz, rock, reggae, blues –
I like them all; but this music of the South
holds me in its thrall. No, sir, I’m not
insular; my tastes are catholic.
Linguist that you are, don’t you love
your mother tongue more than any other?
Gourmet that you are, don’t you still prefer
the native dishes? So it is with music too…
I do not know the mechanics -or the dynamics-
of it , but I enjoy it nonetheless – just as
I enjoy my favourite pudding, although
I have no idea how it is made. There is something
unique in this music, something that touches
the soul and, touching, elevates it. The other day,
though, I heard my cousin say that there is
no music In this world as sweet as the lisping
of her child. She should know, being a mother.
*Drinking the nectar of raga, why won’t you rejoice, O mind? Tyagaraja kriti. Andolika raga
Pic: https://www.flickr.com/photos/
