Salman Ansari Menschen · Natur · Leben · Literatur · Musik

16Mar/11Off

About Indian music

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I was still attending and was planning a career as a pop singer, no not here.

Here I could not see any grounds for my career. Hardly anyone knew what real was like. Except one all my friends were humming all the time these Indian film songs, so false, sublimating sexual fantasies in absurd rhymes. No I knew this was not the right place for me. I was thinking of England or America. For the time being it was not really important to me where I eventually shoot up like a star however, now and then I felt that I would very well turn down offers from United States once they started coming in and surely one day they will start pouring in. Well I was still attending and was planning a career as a pop singer, no not here. all this could wait. I was practicing hard and had composed a few songs. I presented them to my friend. Although I had no guitar I was still holding it in the right professional style while my friend listened to my songs. Very often my friend disappeared in a sea of a huge crowd clapping frenetically while I sang.

It was then that something unexpected happened to me. I came home late. My father was away on business for a couple of days. It was a very warm night. There was no one in the house. The beds had been moved out of the house in to the garden and the hot air in the rooms felt like a membrane filled with steam giving way only to heat. I could hear distant voices. They came filtered to me hollow and broken. I had no idea why I was walking through the empty rooms, absentminded, like a straying animal.  Suddenly I was in my father’s room: Here his bed, here his pillow, his night shirt, here his table, here his radio, everything in its right place. I took few steps towards his bed and finally sat down on it looking straight at his radio. Somehow I was drawn to the radio or shall I say tempted by it? I had never touched his radio and I knew exactly that under no circumstances I would ever touch the knob controlling the needle. I would leave it in its place where my father had moved it so elaborately with uttermost patience. But how could I alter its position if I just switched the radio on?  No, I knew this could not happen. I hesitated for a couple of seconds, looked at the door leading to my fathers room, now partly open, made sure there were no steps approaching and then very quickly pressed the button and the radio reacted immediately. I could see a green light behind the display.  For seconds I did not hear anything, maybe the radio needed time to warm up in this unbearable heat. But after many very long seconds my father’s started streaming out of the radio. So clearly and nearby perfectly undisturbed by sounds of fired bullets or whistling winds. I sat there swatting, unable to switch the radio off. Now and then the music faded away and I sat there hoping it would come back and it always came back. I cannot say that I liked the music. But after it had passed for more than an hour, or even longer, through some channels of my brain, had entered into layers of my evoking metaphysical dimensions I felt I was carried away by some strange force. I was again and again overwhelmed by totally new feelings. It was as if someone were pouring a very fine stream of chilled water right along my neck, and the water rolling slowly all the way down on my back giving me shivers in this suffocating heat saturated night.

During this night a new microcosms was installed within me. But where was this universe located? Maybe exactly there where my soul had its due place. But where was the due place of the soul? The soul is not an organ, as it left you when you died. So it needed a place in the organism to manifest itself. Perhaps the new universe was sitting now somewhere in my heart? But then everybody had a heart and not every heart started beating in resonance with my father’s music. But perhaps I was wrong altogether. It could very well be also true that in everyone’s heart the soul sat integrated in millions of unique manifestations waiting to learn how to count unconsciously. Whatever.  I, on my part was not sure and started studying very carefully the structure of all organs in my body. I felt that none of them could possibly be appropriate to accommodate the universe I was now feeling strongly in me except perhaps the spinal cord. This satisfied me for the time being and I wondered if my father knew more about places and islands within you, locations for hundreds of microcosms not yet known to me.

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