I began reading Jas’s blog quite recently. I love the topics that she writes about, ranging from funny and everyday to serious and political matters. I love the way she puts her thoughts forth in simple and clear terms, in easily understandable posts. It has always been a pleasure to read her, and share ideas and thoughts with her.
Some time back, I asked Jas if she would like to do a guest post on my blog, and she gracefully agreed. I had a finished post sitting in my e-mail pretty soon – about a very interesting observation: how music can divide and yet unite. Thank you so much for this, Jas. 🙂
Without holding the mike any longer, here’s presenting the guest post to you, guys and gals.
Music has always rated high in my list of leisure sojourns. A pair of headphones and my mobile are enough to invigorate the dullest of my days. The world around me moves in slow jazz; the only thing I can hear at times is the guitar in the background rather than what my son is demanding with flailing arms. Music merges the boundaries – that’s what they say.
I am surprised, though, why I have never attended any concerts. Maybe it is the calm that comes with music that I like and not the huff and puff that one usually encounters at concerts. However, last Saturday was different. While I was nursing my broken back (an old injury beckoned me), the rope of spoiling the weekend fun was strangling me slowly. Hubby was sitting close, reading the newspaper, when he casually mentioned the jazz festival at a stone’s throw from our house. The location in question is an amphitheatre inside a humungous mall, with ample space to sit, without any pushing and shoving. What’s more, it is beautifully surrounded by a sidewalk and is full of places for fine-dining as well as quick eating. I bounced back to life hearing that, but not without a painful shriek, thanks to the sudden jerk to my already bereaving back.
“Let’s go,” I said with shining eyes and pursed lips. After all, who gets to hear international jazz musicians just around the corner? Free entry and a place full of wonderful eating-out options were the key instigators, in case you thought that I am a curly-nosed jazz fanatic.
Hubby’s conked-out expression called for me to explain it further. “I will manage,” I reassuringly said, adding, “That’s better than eating your head and you suffering my bad jokes, right?” He liked the latter part, and we zoomed off to the mall in question.
Apart from the soulful music, I enjoyed the people watching at the concert venue. It was the perfect place to see so many varieties of people. The place was beaming, and it was not just youngsters who had dropped in to the amphitheatre to dance along. There was a whole generation of stiff upper lips and raised eyebrows who looked at your crying child as if you have committed a sin bringing him to an up-class musical do. What I found most annoying was that the same bespectacled people, in their stiffly ironed and neatly folded clothes, who pretended that they understood jazz, were unable to give a thundering applause when the artists belted out one wonderful piece after the other. Their hands were glued to their armpits. It was the youngsters, whom people mostly say don’t understand the ethics and sanctity of places, were the ones going all out with arms in the air, clapping and cheering to make the artists feel worth playing. Jazz – now, who says one needs to understand the type of music to appreciate it?
When the men on stage broke into an impromptu gig, the whole amphitheatre took notice and, perhaps, the passersby too. At that point, the lead pianist, who was actually the star of that evening, let the percussionist take all the limelight while just providing enough support with the right chords. The percussionist then handed the baton to the guitarist with thundering beats and then on to the vocalist – the atmosphere then had the synergy to transport you into a world free of dominions and umbrage. Applause and smiles broke out every which where.
I realised then that the air, the power, of music to lead you into a different world and the connection that you feel with the people around you, whether you know them or not. It does merge the boundaries – I know now why they say that.