When I returned from work the other day, I went to a cold and lonely home. It was just me and my son to entertain each other that day. And I was not in the best of moods either.
I thought of going online and listening to some old songs. That was probably the best thing I did during the day.
I stumbled upon an old Marathi classic “Ghanashyama Sundara”. Oh what bliss! The supremely melodious notes of Lata Mangeshkar and Pandit Nagarkar…the soft soothing music that was perfect to wake you from deep, sweet slumber…the whole package is just perfect. There is no other word for that.
The most divine part was the whole image of a beautiful rural morning that the song brought before my eyes. I could actually feel the sun rising and casting his warmth on a world that was made sleepy with the night’s cold blanket. I could hear the birds chirping in the dawn, and the cow bells tinkling in the cowsheds. I could smell the cowsheds and hear the cattle mooing. From my chaotic day, I was transferred within a second to a Utopia.
That is when I realised that words have the power to paint beautiful pictures. And the painter (the poet, in this case – Shahir Honaji) can achieve near-perfection in a picture that can be captured in so few words.
No blogs or essays or odes can achieve the perfection of this song. The perfection of lyrics. The perfection of poetry. The perfection of aesthetics. And of course, the perfection of this painting.
I thought of going online and listening to some old songs. That was probably the best thing I did during the day.
I stumbled upon an old Marathi classic “Ghanashyama Sundara”. Oh what bliss! The supremely melodious notes of Lata Mangeshkar and Pandit Nagarkar…the soft soothing music that was perfect to wake you from deep, sweet slumber…the whole package is just perfect. There is no other word for that.
The most divine part was the whole image of a beautiful rural morning that the song brought before my eyes. I could actually feel the sun rising and casting his warmth on a world that was made sleepy with the night’s cold blanket. I could hear the birds chirping in the dawn, and the cow bells tinkling in the cowsheds. I could smell the cowsheds and hear the cattle mooing. From my chaotic day, I was transferred within a second to a Utopia.
That is when I realised that words have the power to paint beautiful pictures. And the painter (the poet, in this case – Shahir Honaji) can achieve near-perfection in a picture that can be captured in so few words.
No blogs or essays or odes can achieve the perfection of this song. The perfection of lyrics. The perfection of poetry. The perfection of aesthetics. And of course, the perfection of this painting.
1 comment:
And your blog transported us to that beautiful morning. Such a beautiful morning, indeed. Such a beautiful, simple, and poignant blog too.
BTW...now don't go into a hibernation again. Do keep writing.
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