During the annual summer vacations in school, my brother and I used to leisurely wake up. We didn't have to get up at the crack of dawn and get ready for school and we would lie in bed for as long as we could. But parents are parents and one of their key goals in life is to ensure that their progeny wakes up on time - by hook or by crook. And so our dear Mum deployed a unique strategy to wake us up.
Mumma had purchased a CD of Anuradha Paudwal Ji titled 'Ram Ratan Dhan Payo'. It was a collection of Bhagwan Ram's Bhajans. Now in the 1990s, bluetooth speakers were not the norm. Instead, we had a 'music system' with two large speakers, which we called a 'deck'. The music system had two cassette inlets and the optical disc drive had the option of playing 3 CDs (which was remarkable!). It had a gazillion buttons, which when pressed would let out voices such as 'Bass', 'Treble' and the like. Right at the centre of the device was the volume dial. Playing any track on full volume had its own joy.
Anyway, to wake us up, Mother used to play that CD on the deck at near full volume. It was impossible to continue sleeping. Reluctantly, we would get out of bed and find some other place to loaf about. Since I had heard the entire album innumerable times, the bhajans are now etched in my subconscious memory. I would know when Anuradha ji would take a pause and when she would repeat a particular phrase.
[Incidentally, when I was in Bali and the wife and I were basking in the sun at the beach, one of the beach shacks behind us was playing Aartis by Anuradha ji. It was quite hilarious and remarkable at the same time.]
I don't remember when and how 'Ram Ratan Dhan Payo' stopped playing. I guess, we grew up. Or the deck became obsolete. But like I said, the memory of the bhajans remained. My favourite track in the album was Ramchandra Kripalu Bhajaman. It continues to be one of my favourite Bhagwan Ram bhajans.
But there is another track in the album which is quite calming. It is Ramcharitamanas. Unlike the other tracks, it doesn't have accompaniments like the manjira or the ghanti or ghungro. I think only the Tanpura is playing. It is a melodious recitation of a portion of Tulsidas' Ramcharitamanas.
I am a terrible singer. But I am even worse at lyrics. I don't remember the words to even my favourite songs. And so, I had heard Anuradha Paudwal Ji's Ramcharitamanas several times, only picking up bits and pieces of the verse, never fully knowing the words or their meaning. The track felt calming and I enjoyed listening to it.
Until yesterday, when on Twitter, I clicked on a link in a tweet by Vedanta Society. The link was to a post by Swami Tyagananda titled "Where shall I stay?". The post was about an exchange between Bhagwan Rama and Rishi Valmiki in Tulsidas' Ramcharitamanas. During His exile in the forest, Bhagwan Rama asked Rishi Valmiki - 'Where shall I stay?". To this, Rishi Valmiki said that Bhagwan Rama should reside in the hearts of His devotees and then goes on to list the attributes of a devotee.
As I was reading the post, the words seemed familiar. Idiot that I am, I first thought that perhaps some of the verses are from the Hanuman Chalisa. Until I came across a particular verse which was distinctive of Anuradha ji's rendition of Ramcharitamanas. It then dawned on me that the verses in front of me were the words of the track that I had been listening to since over two decades. What a coincidence!
Even though the ignorance of the lyrics and their meaning did not have a negative impact on my life - in the sense that I did not feel incompleteness - the knowledge of the lyrics and meaning gave a positive feeling of joy and wonder. The track now has a different and more intimate connection with me.
And that is the incredible thing about life. Things that appear ordinary become special when we examine them closely. Now when I listen to it, the composition evokes a deeper feeling of bhakti.
A vocalist singing a complex Raga may seem bizarre to an untrained ear; but with the right knowledge of music, the same rendition would evoke the desired rasa in the listener.
In Chapters 20 and 21 of The Little Prince, there is a fascinating discussion between The Little Prince and the Fox where the latter asks the former to 'tame' him. By taming him, he would become the Prince's friend and would be unique to him. He would no longer be like the hundreds of other foxes. The ordinary would become meaningful and special. It is here that the Fox tells the Prince a secret - It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.
We have all grown up learning and singing the rhyme - Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. The second line of the composition is - How I wonder what you are! And yet, at some point, our 'wonder' for the stars (and many other things in life) stops. Things become mundane instead of being special. We let the beauty pass by and don't stop and admire the wonder!
The real wonder, of course, is that on a closer examination, the world is a manifestation of Bhagwan Rama Himself. A vision like that makes everything special. Nothing becomes a source of sorrow. Everything is God. There is nothing that is different from God. Everything is unique and yet part of a universal continuum.
May the Lord give us the vision to see Him in all beings (including us)!
Seeing a peacock as you drive out of court. A wonder indeed!
Photo credits: NK