Darker than the lumber room of the Freudian mind, Deeper than the deepest thunder… Yet, sweeter than the cooing nightingale is a sound… Ever heard of it? Yes, it’s the sound of the soil.
You think only you can talk? Think again… Silent voices… voices of the raindrops nestling on the leaves of the Amazonian rain forest, the endless babble of a breathless river, the murmur of the broken wind… sand, water, breeze, the voice is all over, all around. Put your ears close to the earth… you’ll hear the soil’s heart beat in all… The sound of the soil is the quintessence of existence… “Nada”… “Nada Brahmam”… the ‘Param Braham’. The soil is who you’re. It is from where you came. And it is where we will go.
But only a few chosen can hear this sound.
The evening of 16th September was an echo of that voice. It was an evening where distance, time loose sense. An evening of enchantment devoted to that one rhythm… the rhythm of the heart and soul. The rhythm of the ragas of the musician, the bells of the dancer, the words of the poet…
The evening began with an invocation of that ‘Sound of the soil’… The light of the lamp, the holy stotras and mantras, the mudras of the dancer evoked the Goddess of the Soil from whom we’re born. The journey moved on with the magic of music… the north and the south, Hindusthani and Carnatic came close to each other to show it was the same soil we’re born from and divisions were but man-made. The mystic sufi nostalgia of Baul & Fakirs singers told the story of the elements of the soil… as did the clashing of the swords of Kalaripayattu speak of the vigour and strength with which Mother Earth holds us all. The giddy strains of Manipur Khol players in between and the heady beats of Dhak at the end of the show made us realize how different yet how similar can the understanding of the same soil be. And the words of the poet shall thread all these strains together showing the eternal quality of this voice… The Sound of the soil… one which connected the hearts beyond distance.