Guitar hanging on wall

In One With A Musician’s Trance

“Music is a universal language” people say. Hell, even I say that, but I realized it yesterday! As a musician puts it. “Music helps build neuron pathways in brain that help you identify patterns, create new ones and explore them!” I was like, “Really?” The musician continued, “Those intricate relations between various sounds, their interplay when you apply them to your own life, it becomes soo much more rewarding. People around you may never understand, but then it’s your life, they aren’t meant to! They have their own patterns to explore.” And I was like, “Hey wait a second, aren’t we supposed to live together as a community? Understanding each other is a necessity for survival.” The Musician goes like, “At what cost? Community survives, individuality dies. But what do you remember in the long run? More communities remember individuals from the past than their communities. You know or read about Inca Civilization, Mayans or even Aryans, but what you really adore or try to emulate is an individual, like Michael Jackson or Abraham Lincoln or Gandhi. Do you see the irony there?” Though his line of reasoning was a stretch, for a moment, even I was hooked by the logic.

“Community is already scared of their own survival on the planet and they have created a way of living based on years of trials and tribulations, and then one day comes an individual who rebels against the ways and thoughts of very same community. He realizes that the community has stopped experimenting; it has stopped pushing the boundaries of the unknown. It has become complacent. The illusion of steady state and perfect balance has corrupted the powers. Adapting to change which was once the name of the game for survival has become the enemy itself! While resting a bit on the road to growth and discovery is fine, but it has stretched for too long. We have fallen into a deep slumber. Comfort zone has reached. The community needs to wake up before it becomes an individual again. It needs to start fighting again. It needs the individual to lead and show the path; Path to the once forgotten eternal thirst/curiosity/hunger that enabled the community to survive till now.”

By this time, his unstoppable thought train had hit me head on and I was riding it without an end in sight. Where is he going with this? There was some deep underlying sentiment to all this. His views seemed to tether on the edge of madness, but everything he said, he seemed to believe was some way relevant. Though the today’s world never would have the time nor would make time to understand because its head is in the sand, but not me, not today atleast. It is fascinating to hear someone’s deepest thoughts on things like this; things which normal sane people under normal circumstances would shove it to the back of their mind and go about their business as usual, thinking its someone higher up’s job. But not me, not today at least.

The Musician continued, “There is this sacred blank empty space that musicians reach into when we play. We block out everything else. We start creating patterns, recognising patterns and we know that others, who are in the same place but another point are doing the same. We communicate without saying anything. My rhythm, my understanding of the pattern is different from the other, but I know within that he understands it too; his view may be different, but he recognises it too, and in that moment we are in sync each within our own oyster creating a pattern, exploring it, feeling it, playing it. All the world hears is music, sometimes beautiful, sometimes poignant, sometimes crass, but for us they all are patterns, each beautiful in their own right, brought to life by the fire of passion that keeps us going”

And as if that was a cue, he picked up his guitar and started playing. The music started slowly few strings at a time, in a proper 1423 1423 1423 pattern and on loop. It went on and on, each time a bit more fast. There was a rhythm to that. Soon I was with the rhythm, feeling the strings, dancing with them, dancing on the strings, my steps creating the music or music making me dance. It was all one…


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