Music in the Air (Satis Shroff, Freiburg)

A poem a day,

And makes your neurons gay.

(Satis Shroff)

Satis Shroff is a writer & poet based in Freiburg (poems, fiction, non-fiction) and has been writing, editing and teaching professionally for more than twenty years. A regular contributor to the American Chronicle and its syndicate of 23 affiliated US newspapers, he is also the author of a travelogue Through Nepalese Eyes, and an anthology of poems ‘A Gurkha Mother, A Broken Poet and Mental Molotovs.’ He has studied Zoology and Botany in Nepal, Medicine and Social Sciences in Germany and Creative Writing in Freiburg and Writers Bureau (Manchester). He describes himself as a mediator between western and eastern cultures and sees his future as a writer and poet. Satis Shroff was awarded the German Academic Exchange Prize, and is a lecturer in Basle (Switzerland).For more poems & articles by the author please read visit: http://www.amchron.com, and www.http://www.blog.ch. Or just look up at google & yahoo under: satis shroff literature.

Copyright © 2006 by Satis Shroff, Freiburg

Wonderful clarity and good details. (Sharon Mc Cartney, Fiddlehead Poetry Journal)

Satis Shroff writes with intelligence, wit and grace. (Bruce Dobler, Associate Professor, MFA University of Iowa)

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MUSIC BETWEEN EAST AND WEST (Satis Shroff)

As the Breisgau-train dashes in the Black Forest,

Between Elztal and Freiburg,

I am with my thoughts in South Asia.

I hear the melodious cry of the vendors:

‘Pan, bidi, cigarette,’

Interspersed with ‘garam chai! Garam chai!’

The sound of sambosas bubbling in vegetable oil,

The rat-ta-tat of onions, garlic and salad

Being rhythmically chopped in the kitchen,

Mingled with the ritual songs of the Hindus.

The voices of uncles, aunts, cousins

Debating, discussing, gesticulating, grimacing

In Nepali, English, Newari, Hindi and Sindhi.

Palatine, guttural sounds emitted

By people versed in Devnagari and Anglo-Saxon tongues.

I head for Swayambhu,

The hill of the Self-Existent One.

Om mane pame hum stirs in the air,

As a lama passes by.

I’m am greeted by cries of Rhesus monkeys,

Pigeons, mynahs, crows,

And the cracks of automatic guns of the Royal Army.

*****

THE BEAT GOES ON (Satis Shroff)

There’s a brodelndes Miteinander,

Different sounds, natural sounds,

Musical sounds.

I hear Papa listening to classical ragas.

We, his sons and daughters,

Dancing the twist, rock n’ roll, jive to Cool Britania,

The afternoon programme of the BBC.

Catchy Bollywood wechsel rhythms,

Sung by Lata Mangeshkar, Asha Bhosle,

Rafi, Mukesh and Kishor Kumar.

And in the evenings after Radio Nepal’s External Service,

Radio Colombo’s light Anglo-American melodies:

Dean Martin’s drunken schmaltz,

Billy Fury, Cliff Richards, Rickey Nelson,

And Sir Swivel-hip--Elvis Presley

Wailing his ‘You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog.’

Out in the streets the songs of the beggars,

‘Amai, paisa deo,

Babai khanu chaina,’

Overwhelmed by the cacaphony

Of the obligatory marriage brass-band,

Wearing shocking green and red uniforms.

A tourist wired for sound walks by,

With a tortured smile on his face,

An acoustic agitation for an i-Pod listener,

Who prefers his own canned music.

From a side street you discern the tune

Of ‘Rajamati kumati’ rendered by a group

Of Jyapoo traditional musicians,

After a hard day’s work

In the wet paddy fields of Kathmandu.

Near the Mahabaoudha temple you see

Young Sherpas, Thakalis, Tamangs, Newars

Listening and hip-hopping and break-dancing

To their imported ghetto-blasters:

Michel Jackson’s catchy tunes,

Eminem, 2 Pac, Madonna, 5 Cents.

*****

MUSIC IN THE AIR (Satis Shroff)

Everyone hears music, everyone makes music,

With or without music instruments,

Humming the latest Bollywood tunes,

Drumming on the tables, wooden walls,

Boxes, crates, thalis, saucers and pans.

Everyone’s engaged in singing and dancing.

The older people chanting bhajans and vedic songs,

Buddhist monks reciting from the sutras in sonorous voices,

When someone dies in the neighbourhood.

Entire nights of prayers for the departed soul.

The whole world is full of music,

Making it, feasting on it,

Dancing and nodding to it.

I remember the old village dalit,

From the caste of the untouchables

Who’d come and beat his big drum,

Before he proclaimed the decision

Of the five village elders,

The panchayat.

*****

THE MUSIC OF THE BREAKERS (Satis Shroff)

I remember the beautiful music

Coming from the streets of Bombay,

Where I spent the winters during my school-days.

Or was it musical noise?

Unruhe, panic and flight for some,

It was the music of life for me

In that tumultuous, exciting city.

When the sea of humanity was too much for me,

I escaped by train to the Marine Drive,

And saw and heard the music of the breakers,

The waves of the Arabian Sea splashing and thrashing

Along the coast of Mumbai.

Your muscles flex, the nerves flatter, the heart gallops,

As you feel how puny you are

Among all those incessant and powerful waves.

I reach my destination with the green and white Breisgaubahn,

Get off at Zähringen-Freiburg.

The Black Forest looks ravishing,

For it’s Springtime.

As I walk past the Café Bueb, the Metzgerei,

The St. Blasius church bells begin to chime.

I see Annette’s tiny garden with red, yellow and white tulips,

‘Hallochen!’ she says with a broad, blonde smile.

I walk on and admire Frau Bender’s cherry-blossom tree,

And in the distance, a view of the Schwarzwald.

I hear the sound of Shuman’s sonate number 3,

Played by Vladimir Horowitz.

That’s harmony for the heart.

I know I

I’m home abroad.

******

Glossary:

Wechselrhythmus: changing rhythms

Bahn: train

Mumbai: Bombay

Bueb: small male child

Chen: Verniedlichung, like Babu-cha in Newari

Schwarzwald: The Black Forest of south-west Germany

Miteinander: togetherness

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Since 1974 I have been living on and off in Nepal, writing articles and publishing books about Nepal, this beautiful Himalayan country. Even before I knew Satis Shroff personally (later) I was deeply impressed by his articles, which helped me very much to deepen my knowledge about Nepal. Satis Shroff is one of the very few Nepalese writers being able to compare ecology, development and modernisation in the ‘Third’ and ‘First’ World. He is doing this with great enthusiasm, competence and intelligence, showing his great concern for the development of his own country. (Ludmilla Tüting, journalist and publisher, Berlin).