Street Musicians of Rajasthan

In Rajasthan, every third corner you turn, you are greeted by a street musician armed with a harmonium or a ravanahatha (an ancestor of the violin) as a weapon of their choice!

In another universe, they are performing in an auditorium for an audience of 1000 lapping up every single note with utmost sacredness. But in this universe, they are performing for 5 tone deaf tourists and their own unrealized potential.

There was something about the way they approached their music which added to the appeal and I think that ‘something’ was obliviousness. Obliviousness for their talent, obliviousness for how it can make the listener feel. It felt like they sang and played music because they didn’t know what it would be like to not do that.

None one of them curated their pauses to fit in applause from the onlookers, because they just didn’t need to. The applause just glided in, and made its way between two lines and sat like it always belonged there

To describe their voices as ‘raw’ or ‘unfiltered’, would be an oversimplification and an outcome of my lack of vocabulary but. I wanted to ask them where and how they learnt these complex yet bewitching raagas, but when I saw their little children sitting beside them and just listening, I realized the answer was right in front of me.

I wish I could tell them the pure joy I felt while listening to them, but they didn’t need that. So instead I just gave them what they did need, a smile and some money :)