The pied-piper

It was 2 past 10 in the afternoon and the weather was kind of sultry. A divine enchanting melody which was heard from a furlong distance fell on my ears and pulled me to the room window. As I stood by, I could distinctly make out the captivating tune which was plain but emotive. The microtonal inflections, ornamentation and glissando this bansuriwala achieved by varying his breath and the way he beautifully changed his embouchures which made the higher and lower octaves was mind-blowing. I could identify that he played “jinke mari na” which was followed by “ninna nodalentho” (tracks from the latest kannada movies). And I now could see the melody maker who came down playing his tunes on the woodwind pipe! So very soothing and sublime! Fascinated, I stood and wished he kept playing all day long. It was truly enthralling. I was transcended to yet another world. An oasis of calm was instilled in my mind!

For this wonder flautist, who renders some incredibly alluring tunes, road is the stage and people on the road (and some like me who listen to him standing behind the blinds) are his audience (devoid of the appreciation though). He plays songs, one after another. A few kids on the street watch him keenly. Some dance. Some sort of a “bitti entertainment”!! But the irony behind is that this self-taught artist (who stays blessed by the God of flute, Lord Krishnaa) is here to showcase not his talent but the bamboo reed columns which are beautifully arranged in a quiver like container worn on his back which he intends to sell for a mere 10 bucks to feed his family, who eagerly wait for his arrival in the evening. ‘Ellaaru maaduvudhu hottegaagi genu battegaagi’! Heartrending and tear-jerking!

I was pulled back in the moment as I realized that the piece of music had now started fading in the air while I was engrossed in deeper thoughts. He had travelled to another street in search of a buyer!! As the thoughts crept, I was reminded of the last few lines of William Wordsworth’s poem “A solitary reaper”

Whate'er the theme,
the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work
And o'er the sickle bending;--
I listened, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.


This few minutes of song kept lingering in my mind through the day. Shall cherish this in the time to come. And I shall recollect “Once came a pied piper on my street neither to chase the rats away nor to abduct the children but to rob the hearts”.