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TAGORE PLAYS RUMI’S FLUTE
By: SHAH JAMAL HASHMI
Ah, how soothing this sound is. How enchanting and full of sensitivity. It is taking meinto another world altogether. Where are these beautiful thoughts coming from in theform of Houris because of this music? Is it ‘that’ same sound, which has created such anatmosphere? Oh, look at those glasses full of ‘Love’s’ ecstatic wine. These were not herea moment ago, where have these come from? Oh, my soul, I am seeing you after a longtime, where have you been hiding? And how come have you appeared after hearing thisbeautiful sound of music. Your appearance reveals the truth that you were kept a prisonersomewhere, from which you have been freed by the mighty power of this music. And, tellme where has my shadow gone, does it not befriend this mystic sound? Or is it that youand him are sworn enemies?I can hear this music, and am no longer lonely. Life seems to be talking to me in asecretive manner. My heart has overshadowed my mind; such is the greatness of thismusic. What do you think; can ever a sane person be taken over by a mere emotion of thesimple heart? But this music is divine. And that who is playing it, is unknown to me. Doyou know Him my soul, who is calling me with these ‘songs’?Wait, let me hear carefully. This ‘wailing’ sound. I can recall this. Yes, I heard this soundwhen I used to play alone in the fields.How can a wailing sound be beautiful? Only if you have a sorrowful heart. I am back inmy memories, not that my memories have come back to me. Yes, I have certainly heardthis music. It is that of reed flute.But who is it that has composed such beautiful music, and sings so well. Let me go toHim who plays this music, which touches the cords of my heart.It is Tagore, who loves wailing. His first song starts with the wailing of the reed-flute.And this lamentation becomes the source of happiness and wisdom till the very end. Heseems to be overwhelmed by the engrossing breath, which produces such a sound. Butthis tune of Tagore’s music seems familiar. I have drunk this wine in a gold glass before.I have met with the same houris of thoughts before, but the most beautiful ones are nothere today. It was the same time when I had met with my soul last on such a grand stage.Someone whispers in Tagore’s ears, instructs him, guides him, and shows him the truemeaning of love. This same Master has lent him His own lute. Let there be no doubt thatTagore is a great musician, but certainly not a Maestro. Salieri can play Mozart’s tune,but can never create one like him. What essentially is played on the lute, is alwaysbeautiful because each hollow makes a different sound, and what can be more a gloriousthan all the different sounds disciplined to form ‘single’ beautiful music. Lord lovesindividualism, but also cooperation. Lord’s willingness of creation overcame His love forindividualism. So He merged His divine quality of individualism into this creation of His.1
 
The wailing reed conveys this message of love. The Grand Master is coming. He willnow play the lute himself, and also teach others this divine art. The Grand Master learntthis art from the Creator Himself when he was created.I sit hours in the middle of the field, meditating, while Tagore sings his beautiful songs tome. This reminds me of the time when I used to learn music from the Grand MasterHimself. He taught me what was right and wrong, what is beautiful, and how to ‘make’everything beautiful. But then, because of my disobedience, he refused to teach meanymore. But now, I find myself like Adam; find in Tagore a friend, from whom I canlearn the words of the Maestro. My repentance and obedience to Tagore will certainlyopen the windows to my Master’s mercifulness. I can recall the songs of the Master,when Tagore sings his own. And I, feeling the great quality of Master’s songs, also makehim aware at times when his voice trembles a bit. While yesterday, Tagore was singinghis song to me, ‘Where art Thou my lover, why dost thou hide in the shadows?’ I toldhim that Master always told me that ‘Lover and Beloved were ‘one’ and ‘inseparable’.Both see from each other’s eyes, and suffer the pain, which the other suffers’. Tagore saidto me, ‘ how can you say that I and your Grand Master speak of the same Lover?’ And Ireplied ‘does it require eyes to see that truth, or a tongue to speak of such love? It onlyrequires a heart to feel that same love, of the same Lover.’ And he smiled.Now, Tagore was losing his consciousness, as I had seen my Master several times whenHe spoke of the Beloved. And He used to call it ‘Sema’. So, Tagore being in the sameecstasy, started to sing another song, “my song has put off her adornments, she has nopride of dress and decoration. They will come between thee and me and mar our union.Their jingling would drown thy whispers.” Now this, I told him, was the same thoughtthat my master gave to me, when He said, “there is no room for two in my house, andneither is there enough food for two. Come inside if you come as ‘myself’”. Again,Tagore gave a smile. And I, not being a good ‘Mind’ reader (but only heart), could notcomprehend the meaning hidden within. Both of us drank the wine from the crystalglasses, which Tagore had brought along with him. Though it was two of us, still wecould feel the presence of the Maestro, and also our Beloved.Today, again I am sitting in the field, and in my vertigo I can hear the sound of the lute. Itseems to be the Maestro playing Himself; such is the grandeur of the tune. Is it really theGrand Master? Has he returned? Oh, my soul, blessed be my life, which is honored againto receive the blessings of my Master. And look at Tagore, following Him, learning toplay the same tune, but unable to keep up the momentum of music with the Master.Though Tagore’s tune takes me into another world, but my Grand Master’s words bringParadise to me.My grand master once said to me, ‘this world’s a children’s game, and how can anyonebe called an adult until he leaves the children’s play’. Tagore said the same thing in thesewords, ‘ a child who wears silken clothes and gold ornaments, loses all joy in his play’.Both speak of the same reality, Tagore carrying forward the message of Grand master.2
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