Unravelling mystery of music
SANTOSH DESAI
Pandit Ravi Shankar’s face tells us the story of music. It is a face creased with orgasm; and not of the sexual kind. The bliss of music has imprinted itself into his face, and every line in it is in fact a connection to something infinite and sublime. His face is in some ways a map of the universe with every wrinkle a longitude of rapture. His face speaks for the power of music, something all of us experience in our own ways but are rarely able to explain or even fully comprehend.
It is as if music defies all attempts at definition. We recognise music when we hear it but it is otherwise very difficult to describe. Music has rhythm, but not all rhythmic sounds are music; it has melody but a bird’s call, however melodious is not music. Music is a language that cannot be translated; it can be expressed only in terms of itself. It speaks to a part of us that language does not reach; it is experienced at a level deeper than the intellect. We feel music rather than grasp it. We respond to music, rather than understand it.
And this is not true only of the high classical form practised by Ravi Shankar, but of all music. Our fingers tap, our feet move, our eyes close as if by themselves when we listen to music. Music transports us to a place beyond our individual selves. We are connected to a larger universal force, we feel immersed in something powerful and inviting. We are lost to ourselves as we shut our eyes to exclude ourselves from this world for a temporary citizenship of the universe. Through music, the universe seems to be speaking directly to something deep inside us; nature appears to be reclaiming itself from within us.
In some ways, music is a device that makes time beautiful. It is nothing but sound draped over time; it serves to make time voluptuous. Music gives shape and form to time; time is rendered liquid in the hands of music. We experience time emotionally when we listen to music. Music steals meaning from time; it snatches beauty from its bland emptiness.
Music is perhaps a tangible representation of the life force that runs inside us. Starting from the rhythm of the heart beat which forms the most basic musical structure, melody lends a sense of fluid continuity to the idea of life. We dance to music in acknowledgement of the power of this new language to speak to our bodies and make it do things that our mind may not always understand or even approve of. Cultures that can dance are those that are connected to nature and ooze primal power.
Music intensifies our emotions and makes us feel things more keenly. It speaks to grief in the language of sorrow and to joy in the language of bliss. Words in songs serve to raise the emotional payload delivered by the music. Words work when they express the intent of the music in terms we can retain. By articulating the meaning of the music, words help songs occupy a place in our lives. They give music a name and identity; songs socialise music by giving it a context.
Music is all about fluidity, continuity and immersive universality. It tells us that bliss of the kind that Pt Ravi Shankar experiences comes from losing ourselves in the vastness of music and not in the singularity of our individual existence. It argues against breaking down things into its component parts and for experiencing them in their fluid entirety. It is a compelling advertisement for the fact that as human beings we respond from deep within ourselves to universal themes in a universal way. But perhaps because music does not speak in the fragmented language of the individual, because it hums its songs in its own language to itself, we enjoy music without grasping the idea behind it. The musically gifted are almost always deeply spiritual; for others, the message of music is lost in translation.
santoshdesai1963@indiatimes.com
Source: http://epaper.timesofindia.com
