Over the last few years I suffered a series of accidents that severely
affected my cervical vertebrae. The only thing that helped was physiotherapy.
And it seemed as if I would have to live with this debilitating pain for the
rest of my life. I was also reading this wonderful book at the time, Anything Can Be Healed by
Martin Brofman and his personal
experience in healing was amazing. He uses something called “The Body Mirror System”. The system is based on the idea that the
parts of your body that suffer reflect the parts of your life that are
dysfunctional; that there is tension in your consciousness which causes these
symptoms. To release a symptom, one has to release the stress that caused the
symptom, and bring harmony to the parts of your life that have been, well, out
of balance.
When
I looked within, I found an answer.
Now consider the fact that the cervical area is controlled by the Vishudha Chakra [i].
According to Brofman, “Metaphysically, this chakra is
related to creativity manifesting in the physical world and the fulfillment of
one's goals….This chakra controls the aspects of expressing and receiving.
Expressing can be in the form of communicating what one wants and what one
feels, or it can be an artistic expression, [singing, for instance] basically
using a form for expressing and bringing to the outside what is within…” I
realized that there was something I had been in denial about for over a decade.
Of course there was disharmony.
There was a time when I was obsessed with classical music. There was a time when this music was like a secret language to me.
It was the language that I used to express my thoughts. Not only was I training under a guru, I had also enrolled
at a reputed music school to learn classical music theory. For me at the time,
the raga was supreme: the be all and end all of my existence.
The word raga is derived from
its root, ‘ranja’, which means ‘to
colour’ or ‘to tinge’. And hence, ‘that by which all people are coloured or elated,
that which gives pleasure to all, is raga.’
A raga is pure aesthetics. It
is the basic melody or phraseology of traditional Indian Classical Music. In
the semantics of music, a particular arrangement of notes ‘colours’ or affects
the emotional core of the mind. Every raga
is composed of a set of principal notes which when employed in varying degrees,
in a prescribed order - stressing on some, while bypassing others - achieves a
particular shade or mood, building the character or personality of the raga. But a raga belongs to a realm larger than the notes it contains. The
notes are just a key. A performance is not just a blending of swaras[ii]
sequentially, and randomly achieving an effect. A performance actually deepens
that ‘colour’ or mood in the listener.
Alternately, a raga has also
been described as the language of the soul. This theory probably comes closest
to explaining my own relationship with music. Each raga expresses itself under the pressure of a certain emotion. For
instance, under the stress of sorrow, one might automatically render a
particular raga; similarly we might
sing a completely different tune on the wings of joy, irrespective of the time
of the day. Imagine what songs we might sing in a storm of passion …imagine
what joy we can communicate in union! A raga
is richer than any musical outline of it could ever hope to describe. Any
mental picture of it is limiting.
Coming back to my story, life and work took over and this music, which
was so important to me, got relegated to being something I indulged in over the
weekend, and then to something I went back to once a month or so--in a burst of
enthusiasm, until finally I covered my tanpuras[iii]
in velvet-lined casing about twelve years ago and there they remained, un-strummed.
By denying music, I had been denying myself my secret language, my self-expression.
By denying music, I had been denying myself my secret language, my self-expression.
And thus began a morning ritual of garam masala chai and riyaaz[iv].
Free of any formal structure or instruments. No rigours of taal[v].
No bandish[vi]
of words. In this moment I dwell in the sphere of the swara. I dissolve
in the deep concentric circles that surround each note, and as I go deeper and
deeper in it, my only aim is to reach the centre—that ethereal space where my
personal deity exists. It is a sacred journey I undertake each day. And every
day I chance upon a different tune, thrown up by the vibrations and moods
around me: mellow and sombre sometimes; playful and wanton at other times.
And unknowingly, a raga is
born in that moment. And although it is born to me and of me in that moment, it
has existed before. It’s just that I had banished it from my conscious memory
but it had continued to exist in my sub-conscious. And slowly as I flesh out
its texture, it takes on a life of its own. A known form - not bound by any bandish and taal, more like a gypsy tune that refuses to be bound by words, or
ever be repeated. And for a few moments in that sacred space, this melody sings
its song into my ear, and just as quickly flits away. Before I can catch it,
before I can note it down, and later it is hard to recall. But for that brief
moment I am captured by that sound. I am saturated with it, until I feel I
might burst.
And through the rest of the day I strum an imaginary tanpura in
my head and as its music infuses my soul, I know that I may not be fully
repaired but I feel strong and free.
Neeta Gupta has been working towards creating publishing connectivity's across different languages and cultures
www.yatrabooks.com
http://twitter.com/yatrabooks
Malini Rajurkar: http://www.hindu.com/fr/2004/03/19/stories/2004031901550400.htm
Parveen Sultana’s Raga Kalavati: http://www.dhingana.com/raag-kalavati-hiera-mora-re-and-sawan-ki-aisi-reet-song-the-genius-of-begum-parveen-sultana-hindustani-290abb1
Veena Sahasrabuddhe: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GDtvVfqHG90;
Ustad Rashid Khan: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nT26qXs5lTY
