It’s been a year since I’m learning the language of music with the help of my guitar. And it’s been 6 months since I’ve been traveling with it, my Stevie. During the in-betweens, I’ve learnt some covers and practiced enough to be picking up the guitar at random times and plucking a few strings. Sometimes I drown myself in practicing song after song, other times I get tired just after playing one song and not feeling it. This is happening when I’m by myself. But there’s a new feeling I’ve encountered when there’s an audience. I would strum the tunes of that one song that has an unbinding hold on me. It’s the first song I strum whenever I pick up a guitar. Each time I play it, I play with absolute awareness of how no one is really listening to it. I play it for myself.
Imagine we are sitting for a cup of kadak chai at around 6 in the evening at our usual hangout - the terrace. The sun is just about to set & as we both take our first slurpy sips, I tell you a story of when heaven came knocking at my door.
As I sat at the dining area of the campsite in Ziro, I picked up a fellow camper’s guitar and started strumming the song that sits on my number 1. The moment I reached the point from where the verse starts, I heard someone singing, “Mama take this badge off of me, I can’t use it anymore..” I looked up in rejoice as their voice traveled towards me. His neck was tilted towards me, a smile starred his face and we were connected through an illuminating thread of music. We both smiled at each other as we sang the first two lines and the rest joined in, “…knock knock knocking on heaven’s door”. I couldn’t stop looking at each of their faces, I couldn’t stop smiling and I was loaded with an energy that was making a route of its own through me. I kept strumming the G, D, Am, C of it and there was a point when my finger bled and I didn’t flinch. These are some moments that are very rare but they are making a space of its own in my heart and memory. The voices that sing along, the eyes that look at me, the fingers that tap with my strum - I remember them all. They make me feel seen like none other. To be heard in the language of music is unparalleled.
It’s bed time and we’re filling our water bottles to finally go to our beds, perform our nightly ritual & call it a day. And in between those few moments, I get reminded of the time when I was dancing by myself at one of the biggest music festivals of India & how some musical strangers said I love you to me.
The dancing girl wearing a green skirt, white tank crop top, and a brown hat. Our eyes locked when she was crossing me while I was dancing to the tunes of AKD - an awesome groovy band from Lithuania. They spoke about the tough times they’ve endured because of Russia. The girl twirled with me and twerked with me. Both of us didn’t want to stop. But then we hugged each other. She unlocked her face from the hug, and said while looking into my eyes, “I love you”. I said I loved her too. We exchanged the names of states where we come from. She belonged to Kerala. She said she loved me again. Hugged me tight again. We said bye. She looked back and said I love you again. My heart could explode in the moment.
On the last day of Ziro Music Festival, I was on cloud nine with Mohit Chauhan’s showstopping performance. The crowd buzzed with people of all age groups and so I, along with a friend I made at Ziro, shifted to a wider space where there was some room to breathe and move. We loosened our bodies and danced like the world was about to end. As Mohit Chauhan sang Masakali, someone tapped on my shoulder from behind. I look around and there’s a north eastern guy inviting me to dance along with him. He did a step where he waved both his arms to the left and swayed to right, then arms to the right and swayed to the left. I joined him and swayed and swayed. It was a state of trance, if I may. There was love for music and dance all around. I felt like today the world loves me and I’ll love it back with all my might.
It’s the next morning & I wake up well rested from my travel and you’re sitting by my side with a cup of morning coffee. We exchange hearty morning smiles & you ask me, did you make any friends there?
This question takes me back to the campsite of Ziro. “It was a great trip, I met a lot of amazing people”, I tell you with a content smile.
“So you found a lot of like minded people?”
“No. Not at all. It’s because I was able to accept all kinds of people around me and be with them.”
“That’s amazing.” With a touch of surprise in your voice as you know me inside out.
“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that either. I surprised myself on this trip as I couldn’t stop making friends. It felt as though I’m expected everywhere. It’s most likely a conspiracy of my highly social mind struggling to make peace that I’m in fact a socially anxious monkey. This might sound a little righteous but it’s a very new feeling for me. To take people as they are. Maybe that’s the space I’ve been given in all the traveling I’ve done this year. And I want this to stay.”
Every decision I’ve taken this year is based out of sheer spontaneity. And it doesn’t mean that that’s the only thing functioning within me. There were a thousand other voices stretching me out. But the stronger voice was to go ahead and go for it. Something as simple (not quite) as deactivating my LinkedIn to something as grand as booking my solo tickets for Ziro Music Festival. It was all in an act of spontaneity. And I would hate it for people to think of this magical word in a negative sense. Even if it carries an unlikely / unwanted outcome, that decision was taken by going against the tide of “should”. I should not leave LinkedIn, I should not step out alone for that long a journey, I should not listen to my instinct but become a better and responsible person. Fuck. that. Shit. When people say, you do you - it’s still very difficult to dissect what it is that you really want to do and do it.
“It's such a stupid question, in my opinion. I mean, how do you know what you're going to do till you do it? The answer is, you don't. I think I am, but how do I know? I swear it's a stupid question.”
― J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye
I hope you enjoyed this tete-a-tete. I’ll leave you with some striking lines that Alif left us with after performing his brilliant set.
Tumhe maloom nahi tum kaun ho,
Tum qaid nahin jo ijaazat lo.
I wish music takes you to places unknown & that you dance like the world’s about to end.
riti (: *:
I think my comment is almost the same after every sip, but I like the fact that how I'm falling in love with how beautifully you write and how you're acing this every time.
Can't help but quote some heavy lines from Motherjane:
"Blessed travelers from the fields of sound
You’ve roamed the paradise of the musical legion
Pushing boundaries from the eye of the storm
Baptizing with melody, the sweetest religion"
So beautifully written that I could visualise it all. You literally poured your heart out.
So happy for you. 🌸❤️