The Avantika Express took us to Ujjain where we met up with a couple of other Kabir Smittens Another hour on a passenger train brought us to Maksi , a small quaint station that is nearest to the little village of Lunyakhedi.
Prahalad Tipanya, the Padmashree awardee and popular Malwa folk singer lives with his large family in this village. He lives and breathes Kabir songs and poetry. Prahaladji is one of the many forms through which Kabir connects and communicates with the world of today.
During the five day workshop, we immersed ourselves in the vibrant and elevating music created by these humble folk singers who keep the kabir 'raas -dhara' flowing. We drank of it with both hands. The sounds of the tambura, the manjira, the dholak , the harmonium and the violin accompanied the singers. Prahaladji and Kaluram Bamaniya sang for us. It was like having Kabir all to oneself when you sat immersed in the music that overflowed and engulfed everyone around...
Linda Hess was there too. She brought to us her deep understanding of Kabir's poetry and the oral traditions of the Malwa region that has carried his words to this day.
On the second day the body and spirit had adjusted to the toilet with a rusty corrugated metal sheet for a door and a cold water bath inside a make-shift bathroom (a slab for flooring, four poles on the sides holding up jute cloth coverings and the sky for the roof! )
Rain drenched green fields as far as eye can see, lakes and brooks, grazing cattle and chirping birds made for a perfect setting. Hot poha and sabhudana kichdi for breakfast, homely lunch and dinners served with dollops of ghee kept the energy buzzing The love and affection showered on us by Prahaladji ( "Aap ne mere bichde hue parivar se mila diya") and his family gave me an emotional high. The divine music and the mesmerizing poety of Kabir held us in thrall.
The poetry and the oral traditions of singing both need to survive the spread of urbanization and western influences. Only time can tell if any of the participants, from mostly urban locations within India, would serve the cause and help retain these works of beauty for future generations.
Prahalad Tipanya, the Padmashree awardee and popular Malwa folk singer lives with his large family in this village. He lives and breathes Kabir songs and poetry. Prahaladji is one of the many forms through which Kabir connects and communicates with the world of today.
During the five day workshop, we immersed ourselves in the vibrant and elevating music created by these humble folk singers who keep the kabir 'raas -dhara' flowing. We drank of it with both hands. The sounds of the tambura, the manjira, the dholak , the harmonium and the violin accompanied the singers. Prahaladji and Kaluram Bamaniya sang for us. It was like having Kabir all to oneself when you sat immersed in the music that overflowed and engulfed everyone around...
Linda Hess was there too. She brought to us her deep understanding of Kabir's poetry and the oral traditions of the Malwa region that has carried his words to this day.
On the second day the body and spirit had adjusted to the toilet with a rusty corrugated metal sheet for a door and a cold water bath inside a make-shift bathroom (a slab for flooring, four poles on the sides holding up jute cloth coverings and the sky for the roof! )
Rain drenched green fields as far as eye can see, lakes and brooks, grazing cattle and chirping birds made for a perfect setting. Hot poha and sabhudana kichdi for breakfast, homely lunch and dinners served with dollops of ghee kept the energy buzzing The love and affection showered on us by Prahaladji ( "Aap ne mere bichde hue parivar se mila diya") and his family gave me an emotional high. The divine music and the mesmerizing poety of Kabir held us in thrall.
The poetry and the oral traditions of singing both need to survive the spread of urbanization and western influences. Only time can tell if any of the participants, from mostly urban locations within India, would serve the cause and help retain these works of beauty for future generations.
