The Morning Melody

There are journeys within and the journeys beyond. Some journeys take you across all your known truths, expanding the boundaries of your knowledge, while some open a swell of imagery, sounds and smells, moment after moment pushing you into unknown territories of dreams and sometimes strategically pulling you out of it, to reveal things which could have been missed on the way.

It was seemingly one such journey, which I started from a lonely station in the far west of Shikoku island. I boarded an early morning slow local train to take me to another city situated next to "Seto Inland Sea" or Setonaikai (瀬戸内海) as it is locally called. The sun was nowhere to be seen and there were no fellow passengers to keep me company. The train slowly moved ahead, passing through unknown areas in the dark. With some music playing in my ears from a random playlist, I started falling into the lap of a sweet nap, with hands crossed on my chest in response to a cool air-conditioning. Head fallen a bit, the sleep snatched me away from reality. Train kept on running smoothly, making small pauses at stations which were unsuccessful in waking me up. 

It was an early morning dream which consisted of palaces in clouds, a scenic one, similar to the one I visited in Leh long back, constructed out of sun-burnt bricks basking in the sun with a backdrop of a blue sky. A haven in quite surroundings, with barren mountain roads all going in its direction. A wind-chime hanging in a zen-view window ringing, tinkling slowly with the wind. Although, in between, I somehow kept on seeing a pencil making some calligraphic letters on a piece of paper. They were brilliant strokes being drawn by a hand moving calmly and thoughtfully. A little patch of darkness in between, and then again moving back to a palace courtyard, sunny and still. Long curtains flying with the wind hiding and revealing views outside.It was like two videos playing one after another but with a gap, but still seemed connected to each other.

All of a sudden, a crisp voice filled my brain and surrounded the beautiful imagery my mind was grappling with. The song echoed from everywhere. The palace of dreams could not contain it and started melting with it, dizzying me a bit in the process. The pencil appeared again, writing beautiful letters on a piece of plain white paper, vertically with diligent and soft hand movements. The dream slowly gave way and Raga "Deshkar" slowly moving towards higher notes engulfed me.

Piya Jaag, Keeni bhor........
Rahas-Rahas, Shrawan Sunat
Rang Ras ki Batiyaan

Piya Jaag!

  

My eyes opened a bit, but the scene of calligraphic writing failed to diminish. I moved my head a little bit up. A face was visible with morning sunlight lighting it up radiant. The mind could not understand a sudden human appearance. Where? Who? questions sprung up. I moved a bit, and opened my eyes wider to see the image clearly. It was a school student, sitting right in front of me doing his homework, while sunlight from the window lit his face radiant.

Woken up by that beautiful melody, I looked around with astonished eyes. There were beautiful green mountains on my right with clouds sitting on the top, while stunning inland sea was on my left, and the train was almost flowing in between both visual layers segregating the two amidst rice fields. The sun was hiding behind heavy clouds giving sudden striking appearances. There was peace and quiet deep inside me while the train hymned outside.

From the Train: Inland Sea, Mountains and Rice Fields, (Photos: Abhijit Datey)

That very moment I realized that my dream was hanging in between the virtual and the real world, until the notes of "Deshkar" successfully pulled me back into the real world. I had stumbled upon a moment where the beauty of poetry and notes was so apt that there was no parallel. A moment which was short enough to pass by but long enough to be remembered at length. The train reached a small station, and the schoolboy with his heavy bag and that notebook with hand written characters stood up, bowed a little, smiled a bit and left.

I was wide awake and the train continued to run. Kishori Amonakar kept rendering "Deshkar" in her divine voice. May be it was the voice of the green hills and the sea calling me to appreciate their radiant beauty.

Kar Shringar Dohu, Mile Baithe

Bhujan sou Bhuja Milaye

Chatiyan sou Chatiyan 

Piya Jaag!  

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Raga Deshkar is generally performed in the morning. Appreciators of Indian Classical Music could listen to this gem in Raga Deshkar by clicking the link below. 

http://gaana.com/song/raga-deskar-piya-jaag-jaagmaddhyalaya-teen-taal-hoon-to-tore-kaaran-jaagidrut-teen-taal