In the car when I heard on NPR that sitar master and
composer Ravi Shankar died today, my first thought was of his spirituality. I had known that he gave up a glittery life
to study with a guru who taught him the sitar. And of course there was the
George Harrison connection that put him in the limelight. My husband on the other hand, spoke of Shankar
bringing different rhythms and forms of eastern music to the west. Shankar's
music reached out to some of the West's finest musicians including Violinist
Yehudi Menuhin and composer Philip Glass.
Now I understand the dichotomy. His music is a combination of tranquility and
sadness. The tranquility comes from the kind you experience when you hear music
and the sadness is ... like wanting to reach out for something and not finding
it, be it God or for a physical love.
A few years ago, remembering those demanding early years of
sitar studies, Ravi Shankar said his guru's most important lesson was this:
"He says that we have to earn our livelihood, and for that we have to
perform and accept money. But music is not for sale. The music that I have
learned and want to give is like worshiping God. It's absolutely like a
prayer."
Shankar once said he felt ecstasy when he made music — the
world was erased, and he experienced great peace. May he too have the peace
that he generously spread throughout the world.
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