Happy birthday Sam!!! This one is for you, kid!
The soft brush of wind against your hair,
You pick up the sacred instrument ,
Set your ways, sit in respected poise.
You inhale a deep breath and as you let go,
You part your lips and and whistle a light blow
That is enough to take our breath away.
Within the first note, tranquility takes over.
A cascading flow of tunes , rhythmically
Dancing to your every supple movement.
Your music soaring in the airwaves faultlessly,
Wafting across the sky,clouds,plants and soil
That have fallen silent for you, that have gained
Composure in the fluttering fluidity of your sound.
Your eyes gleam of honey gold as the sun rays
peer in search of the melody you play.
Your fingers gliding across the bamboo
Like butter, the gentle respire that leaves your lungs,
Soothing as the croon of a songbird, melting our hearts.
The tabla begins, the laya leap, leaving us in awe.
Your eyes are shut tight, maybe cause of vexation
Maybe because of visualization or concentration.
But in due time you ease yourself into it.
Your skin breathes, your nose flare but your eyes,
They sink into their own trance as the holes
Of your flute overflow with cosmic energy that swindles us,
Taking us under a banyan tree where lord Krishna stands.
The almighty in your form, bewitching us with music
That flows like poetry,clearing the sky, flooding the lakes,
Blooming the buds,dimming the sun and mesmerizing the universe.
You pause, soak in all the fairy dust of nature and smile faintly
That smile knows you have held us captive, that smile knows
That our ears are rebilling for more flavor, so that smile
Kisses the kodalu that presses pause on everything in motion.
The light and slow tempo, with every blink of an eye, ascends
In pace and reaches the crescendo, the point at which you
Seem to have superfluous air supply, your fingers quivering like
Wings of a dragonfly, crisp and sporadic , your entire body ,
Prancing with the trebles caressing the pristine air that is
Filled with nectarine, riveting the bees to buzz in harmony
Luring everything living and inanimate towards you.
The laps of alaps, the tremulous thaans
The slow burn of the meend, culminating into opulence
Like an oil lit lamp illuminating a jet black night,
Like the shooting stars that regained their souls,
Like atmosphere swallowing vacuum to transcend your
symphony into galaxies, the ones that maiyya saw in
Krishna’s mouth that reverberated of your euphonious.
The tihayi which glissade like the holy water, blessing
Everything in its reach. The final cycle of the tabla,
The cadence of it which raptures the evening ombre ,
Ending the saga on a pulchritudinous pith, while we
Surrender bedazzled, you recompose yourself and
Listen to the piece that lingers in the walls,
That is forever absorbed in it.
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