Chapter 40

           

           Myarrivalcoincidesnicelywiththearrivalofanewyear.IhavebarelyonedaytogetmyselforientedtotheAshram,andthenitisalreadyNewYear’sEve.Afterdinner,thesmallcourtyardstartstofillwithpeople.Weallsitontheground-someofusonthecoolmarblefloorandsomeongrassmats.TheIndianwomenhavealldressedasthoughforawedding.Theirhairisoiledanddarkandbraideddowntheirbacks.Theyarewearingtheirfinestsilksarisandgoldbracelets,andeachwomanhasabrightlyjeweledbindiinthecenterofherforehead,likeadimechoofthestarlightaboveus.Theplanistochantoutsideinthiscourtyarduntilmidnight,untiltheyearchangesover.

           ChantingisawordIdonotloveforapracticethatIlovedearly.Tome,thewordchantconnotesakindofdronelikeandscarymonotony,likesomethingmaledruidswoulddoaroundasacrificialfire.ButwhenwechanthereattheAshram,it’sakindofangelicsinging.Generally,it’sdoneinacall-and-responsemanner.Ahandfulofyoungmenandwomenwiththeloveliestvoicesbeginbysingingoneharmoniousphrase,andtherestofusrepeatit.It’sameditativepractice-theeffortistoholdyourattentiononthemusic’sprogressionandblendyourvoicetogetherwithyourneighbor’svoicesothateventuallyallaresingingasone.I’mjetlaggedandafraiditwillbeimpossibleformetostayawakeuntilmidnight,muchlesstofindtheenergytosingforsolong.Butthenthiseveningofmusicbegins,withasingleviolinintheshadowsplayingonelongnoteoflonging.

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