How many ways can you say this song is great? How many times can you say this shabd is so beautiful? How many words can describe how powerful the composition is or how profound the peace that remains when the song is done? How many emotions can a heart withstand, struggling with the challenge of taking the song off the page, enjoying in amazement when it comes, singing, seeing, knowing, clarity and heart breaking realization, feeling the limitations of time and space. Turning the pages day after day, I’m not tired of it. Entering the last few months of this year-long project I am absolutely not feeling a sense of completion, but remain in awe of the bounties, it is only a beginning.

I pray my friends and family will love and appreciate the depth of meditation, the inner knowledge, the beauty to be seen, the wisdom shown, the perspective offered by these beautiful shabds. Although my voice does not do these songs justice, there is a space these songs invoke, obviously composed from depth and breadth of vision, outwardly expansive, inwardly penetrating. This book and these amazing old songs are an amazing gift from Bhai Avtar Singh and Bhai Gurcharan Singh. Who could have remembered them otherwise?

I’m reminded of my initial attempt in the 70’s to learn shabds from a book someone gave me. It would take days and weeks to work the notes off the page. Of course I didn’t sing these songs well, What did I know about rāg and tāl? But there was something that captivated me and something that even an ignorant person like me, sitting with a harmonium, could pull out of a song on a page.

It’s very different now, after having been taught. Learning required sitting with a teacher to unlearn old habits of mind and voice, train the ear to hear, acquire the tools and build the skills to discover a song and sing it. And the journey has just begun.

Moving into raga sarang this week was like moving into familiar territory. Singing a shabd that has been taught and learned is a totally different experience, when the words and melody are known and subtleties have been shown. Singing a song is different from learning a song. Playing the instruments, the voice relaxes, the mind rests, the song sings.

There are many variations of rāga basant in Gurbāni Sangeet. The melodies introduce various flavors such as basant hindol in kalyān ang,  sohni basant in mārva ang, and budha basant and basant bahār in kāfi ang. There are also ancient basants in purvi ang and kamāj ang. Rāga basant celebrates spring, the blooming of the soul described with images of flowers and new green life. There are many songs that remember again the realities of the human experience, renouncing not only the five thieves that lead us astray with intoxicating māyā, but also renouncing the intoxicating superstitious and religious dream states that keeps us asleep and apart.

Several of the rāga basant shabds in Gurbāni Sangeet are from a longer poem by Bhagat Kabir Ji that describes the springtime of spiritual awakening and the unfortunate trappings of māyā. Guru Nanak tells us that the one who knows the all-pervading One is known by the sign of compassion. Why not be compassionate? Although we humans tend to judge, label and categorize other humans, separating them (and ourselves) according to our own self-righteous perceptions and criteria of worthiness, Bhagat Kabir asks where is there a truly pure place, where is there no impurity? Wouldn’t we all be more compassionate toward the shortcomings of others if we remembered our own tainted tendencies?

We live in a world that is as it is. Who are we to impose judgment, to hold others to standards to which we don’t hold ourselves? Anything, regardless of how pure or impure it was before, has been altered by our own eyes and ears, distorted by our own organs of perception. What if we could see the perfection instead of what’s wrong with the other? How do we see with the color of love?

That’s what happens when the soul blooms. There is no need to wait, Guru Arjun Dev Ji says today is the day. Sing the praises, life is a celebration, bliss happens. “āj hamāre mahā anand”. When the soul blooms, it is like playing with red dye at Holi, and love leaves its color on everything.

In Krishna Avtār, Guru Gobind Singh comes to call. Why be proud? I’ve come to call you. Do what pleases the beloved. Otherwise why are you so beautiful?

Last week the music teacher at Khalsa Montessori School asked me to bring some instruments and sing for the preschool and early elementary classes. 150 children from six classrooms got introduced to taus, tanpura, and pakhawaj, sang sa re ga ma pa da ni, and clapped along while they counted the taal. These children are typically American, come from diverse backgrounds, and most have not previously heard Indian music. But they loved this music and on Friday I received a bundle of thank you cards made by the children. Here are some of their comments and illustrations:

“I really loved the taus because I liked the sound that it made and that it is shaped like a peacock.”

“It is very cool to see new instruments you never seen before.”

“Thank you for doing that amazing show. The instruments were verrrrry COOL!”

“I loved the music you played for us. It was so peaceful and nice and the instruments were very cool.”

“I like the sa re ga ma pa da ni sa.”

“I wish I can come to India.”

“That was awesome!”

“That was totally, really, super-duper and flabbergastingly awesome! I really enjoyed it. Thanks a septillion.”

“When I grow up I want to do what you did.”

“It was a mystery to me how the sound came to me if there was no hole in the tanpura.”

“Thank you for showing us the way how they say the notes in India.”
“The music almost made me cry.”

“It was really interesting how you put dough on the other end of the pakhawaj.”
“It made me very happy”

If you ever wonder if this ancient music is still relevant, just ask the children! If you ever wonder if it is important to make sure this music is remembered, just ask the children!