It’s been a while, since I posted an Anthem.
Songs of tragedy, pain, and loss are usually difficult to write about. One, the original context of the sadness is often very personal to the song’s author. When we listen to a song, the meaning changes — because the author’s context makes way for our own. Two, most sad songs are beautiful. So when you say you like a sad song, it isn’t clear if you like it because it’s beautiful, because you relate to it, or both. And finally, they enclose emotions that there aren’t words for, it can only be an experience.
But it’s a wonder (for me) how the poets do it. What kind of pattern-thinking do they posses that allows them to choose and lay out words that can make meaning to thousands, millions of people and relate to that inexplicable experience? The abstraction that they create, reaches far deeper than a simple statement would. There seems to be, to me, a sense of protectiveness of the sorrow, and if it has to be displayed, it stays behind the lattice-work of abstraction.
Perhaps that is why some sad songs become beautiful. In a single instant, there’s meaning, and there isn’t.
When I first heard this song, I didn’t understand it much. There was something however, about the song that never left me. This is the song that people sing at picnics and outings, after all the dance has been done, all the drinks are over. Like a full circle. This song, is essentially, full of questions. Mostly, none of the questions have answers. It’s the phenomenon of no-one-knows..
I cannot, but think of a doha (couplet) by Kabir:
ऐसा कोई ना मिला जासों कहूं दुख रोय।
जासों कहिये भेद को,सो फिरी बैरी होय।।
None could I find, as such, to share my sorrow, sad profile
To those in whom, I did confide inimically turned hostile.
Above translation by Daduzen (DN Harjani), from Kabir Speaks