Tuesday, 25 October 2011

Songs.

It would have been sad if music was the monopoly of musicians. As I sit in my room while the world around me proudly shines in festive glory, I hear around me the music that my city hums on its own. May be, nothing is without rhyme and reason. Everything in this world has their rhythm, their pattern that they can call their own. The universe of our mind has a cosmic regularity that aberrations often make us take note of. It would be a pity if we reduced music to what only predetermined instruments can make, because in reality it is everywhere. It is in the wind of the thunderstorm that gives a thrill in our heart and makes the heartbeat come truly alive; in the footsteps as we trace a line along the squares of the red pavements in the city of joy; in the raindrops on the tinned rooftops of fallen buildings, in the river as the oars stride against it under the backdrop of the grand bridges that caress the skyline of the old capital with old glories; in the silent breathing of the dejected dog forlorn in the corner of the pavement; in the verses of a poet; in the water from the tap, slowly easing itself, in the dead of the night when the world is asleep; in the silence of the night when the cricket sings; in the punctual regularity of moonshine, in life itself. There’s a hidden song everywhere. And that makes me feel nice about everything else.

4 comments:

Caveman said...
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Olive Oyl said...

how to do that? anyway, will figure a way out. but currently am out of facebook. so, not quite use there. :D

Caveman said...
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Caveman said...
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