2026
Today, as I walked back home from an appointment, I heard loud music. It startled me, and my hands immediately went to cover my ears, but nothing was going to block the high pitched, loud and unspiritual sounds. My husband turned me around and there it was - coming from trucks with “devotees” - Kanwariyas’ on their Kanwar Yatra. Made me think of what I wrote a few years ago ...
Written in 2022
No French class when there was supposed to be one, or at least I thought there was one but no, the course is over, and I didn’t know. I thought it was going to get over next week, Uff, I didn’t say a sweet bye to my Prof but then this is not about him or the numerous French classes and courses I do!
So basically, I’m Vella, already bought a “rangement” for the kitchen, from Ikea. Eaten dinner - a quick one because of the class that never was, added some songs to the “like” list on Spotify…and the mind wanders. Take away Instagram, Facebook and YouTube and it wanders far and wide.
Ram Charitramanas started playing on Spotify. Now, don’t ask me how but it did and what’s funny is that I loved it! I say funny because growing up, I heard it every morning and I would never admit to myself let alone anyone else that the music was nice. This time, it brought back memories of early mornings with the All India Radio playing Vande Mataram and the Ram Charitmanas playing on my grandmother’s radio every single day.
I’m not sure what it is about old devotional music but when not played on a loud speaker with many tone deaf devotees singing along, it can be quite nice – pleasant-soothing. I used to practice at the Air Force Golf club and on many almost winter evenings, at dusk, when my ball boy - aggewala and I could just about see the ball and the cool evening air would start making you want another layer, I would hear the Azaan. A beautiful echoing sound that felt so serene and peaceful. The Maulvi in the close by mosque didn’t use a loudspeaker so the direction of the wind and the strength of his voice would determine the volume at which it reached me.
On Christmas every year, Carol singers would come to our house on the invitation of our tenants Maggie aunty and Andy uncle. Again, no loudspeaker. Just a bunch of good singers from the church. Even my arthritic grandmother would sit up in her bed and dig into her potli t reward the carol singers - quite an achievement coz it wasn’t easy getting her to open that potli.
And then there were the prabhat pheras. Early morning processions, just before sunrise, with a few people humming along softly, adding to the atmosphere of that time of the day. So beautiful! My parents would wake up earlier than usual and wait by the gate so that they didn’t miss the Phera.
Uff this is now sounding like a religious unity bhashan. Nah, I’m just sinking my soft bottom into nostalgia of a strange kind. So back to my question - why are hyms, bhajans and all the rest so pleasant? My mom and grandma would have said it’s to do with God. I think it’s because they were supposed to soothe the nerves, lift the spirit, popularise the words and market the religion.
So why is it different now? Why do we use loudspeakers, tuneless instruments and musicians, and a whole lot of noise? Is God deaf or are we deaf? I think it’s the former. But then who made her deaf? The loud tuneless bhajan sung on a mike, the prabhat pheri's tuneless drums, the unnecessarily loud azaan on the crackling loudspeaker, or the loud songs played on discardable music systems by the Kanwariyas’?
Who knows?!
But I promise you, it wasn’t my singing!
