There have been moments, when my world has toppled. Once…twice…I have lost the count. Failures. Defeats. Deceits. Heart breaks. Losing people without whom life seemed unworthy to live.
But as it happens, God designs ways to comfort a weeping soul. For some its painting. For some its writing. For some its acting their hearts out. And for me, he made you sing.
Metaphors fail and words fall futile when I think to pen down what is it like when one listens to you. But I have learnt we must make an effort to express beauty as eloquently as we express pain. So here it is Ma’am…
Ever heard of the sweetest of honey dripping over a mundane dessert? And the first touch of fresh morning dew over pink red rose petals? It is said when a kid says mumma for the first time, the mother experiences an unprecedented euphoria. As a man, I am devoid of such moment. But I guess, it must be similar to listen you sing.
You are the voice the soul craves when stark realities engulf life. The voice of beloved. The voice of mother’s Aarti. Voice of sister when she says “Bhaiiya”. Voice of chimes on a windy evening. Voice of far away temple bells on a breezy rainy morning. The voice of one’s innocence. The voice of childhood.
One can smile like kids listening to you. Can cry inconsolably without being judged. Can think of the Utopian garden within, that the world can’t dare destroy. Can feel like the ultimate handsome prince charming. Can experience sensuality without being sleazy. Can muster courage to fight back life again. The strength that a delicate twig of grass has which a tree trunk can never have.
In sheer zenith of my admiration, I once downloaded many of your songs in languages I don’t understand. I understood “Music has no language” for the first time! You seemed equally sweet in all of them. Perhaps even more because I only heard the voice and not the meaning. To heck with the meanings. Meanings, in life are often absurd. They ruin moments. Till date, I access those tracks in loop without even looking up for the translations.
I don’t have much to say, knowing I will be only repeating my immense gratitude for you. Amongst those who have made this world worth living, your efforts are the most adorable, honest, childlike, youthful, lovable, uncorrupted….and seemingly effortless. But one is aware of the enormous patience, practice and Saadhna you underwent to hone your craft. You deserve all the happiness and bliss of seven worlds (and beyond if they exist).
Thank you for making my life beautiful. Thank you for taking up singing.
Keep Singing. Keep Inspiring. And more importantly…
Writer has no clue where his life is headed.
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