The earth sings.
Our dear earth sings for her loving beings,
her creation of yores.
The melody that can neither be described
nor can be composed on a keyboard.
It is the music of the earth,
immeasurable, unfathomable, the sound of silence.
The earth sings a song
that comes along with her birth.
She still sings as she swirls around her axis,
a sweet silent song.
Amidst
the resplendent beauty of nature,
the forest, earth’s most perfect and
profound creation joins the melody.
Thus begins the music of the forest
with the rising sun.
Morning’s cool breeze passes through
the rustling leaves with a gentle soothing sound.
The earth has woken up from her deep sleep.
The deep and dark night has passed away.
There is light everywhere.
The sun rises up and the great forest
orchestra suddenly springs up from
an old banyan tree.
Hundreds of birds,
chirping and twittering;
the buzzing and humming of the
insects reverberate all around.
The animals stand thunderstruck
and look aghast at the great musical
extravaganza of the forest.
The day of the forest begins.
The mountain stream flows down like
a dancing forest belle spraying splashing
and splattering water all along, impatient
to merge with her beloved darling the lake.
On its crystal clear water swans leisurely float,
a heavenly scene.
The whistling ducks fly over the forest sky
in a ‘V’ formation,
the beauty of nature.
The forest folk are out singing their morning lore.
Smoke from
the thatched houses
slowly rises up and floats above.
The crackling sound of the fuel wood fire
from the chullah along with the silent
music of the boiling rice,
a heavenly treat of nature’s splendour.
After the hot summer comes
the bursting dark cloud, moving in a great speed,
darkens the whole sky followed by frequent
flashes of lightning, the deafening thunder,
the drizzling and splattering of rain… …
the sound of the earth coming from
everywhere nowhere, the sabda brahma,
the sacred sound.
The calm sea on the other side suddenly wakes up.
Showing its anger and unhappiness breaks down.
The angry sea swells and surges ahead
with a great speed,
spews forth foam all along the beach
and hits the shore with all its blind fury
as if to engulf everything on its way.
The fury can be equated with the
dance of Shiva or the vibrating matter
that proceeds according to its own law.
I stood in wonder on the Puri beach
when the angry sea hit the eastern islands in the
Indian Ocean…
the great tsunami.
It appears as if all the water in the sea
was sucked up leaving the sea bed bare
open to a distance of about a kilometre.
The earth’s orchestra doesn’t end here.
The sacred sound from the hymn and prayers,
beating of drums, ringing of bells, tinkling of anklets,
sound of gong and cymbals, blowing of conches,
playing the flutes, sound everywhere from
the altar of gods, on the streets in villages
and cities, orchestra of thousand bina of
Ravi Shankar followed by beating of drums,
the symphony of Indian music… the Sabda Brahma.
Sound occupies an important place
in the life of Indians.
For us Indians sound is sacred.
The world fails to understand
why Indians are so vocal,
why there is sound everywhere.
A tourist from a western country
while returning was asked
what did she like most in India.
“It is sound I like most”
was her prompt reply.
