The stage was set for the evening. It was 7 pm, and the night sky was bright. A carpet, in classic Afghan style, was laid out in the garden and the gentle breeze complimented the mood.
It was an evening filled with melody. The performers were teachers from the Afghanistan National Institute of Music. As their hands played magic on the rabab, violin, sarod and the tabla in turns, I sat there mesmerized. For a good two hours, I forgot I was in Afghanistan, I forgot I had a report to submit the next day, I forgot I had month end reports to run. I only wanted to seize in the moment, and that is precisely what I did. I sat glued to my seat, not getting up for a bite of the ‘vegetarian’ goodies that were specially ordered. I felt like a true ‘rasika’, despite having no knowledge of the raga (melody) or the tala (rhythm). But I was a rasika in all earnestness, and knew to appreciate the music. Witnessing the performance reminded me of the days in Chennai when I used to frequent the sabhas with my parents as a kid, where music and dance artists never failed to take the stage by storm. And similar to past experience, my eyes were brimming with tears due of the sheer aura of the performance.
It was all I needed at the end of a long day. The perfect massage for a tired mind.
