Add The Wire As Your Trusted Source
For the best experience, open
https://m.thewire.in
on your mobile browser.
AdvertisementAdvertisement

The Future of Water: For Ustad Rashid Khan

'You held the note in your palm, just below the waistcoat of your throat.'
'You held the note in your palm, just below the waistcoat of your throat.'
the future of water  for ustad rashid khan
Rashid Khan (1968-2024). Photo: X.
Advertisement

Renowned classical singer Ustad Rashid Khan passed away on January 9.

§

The day you left, we were listening to Raag Megh

In your voice, without a pause.

We waited for rain to come

Advertisement

To these parched parts, for the drought to end

For famished cows in dryland waiting for a drop

Advertisement

As you held your voice and not let it run away.

We waited for the future to arrive in a cloud so dark and glistening

Advertisement

With the touch of rain, a drop is all we wanted

Advertisement

From a hungry sky, eager to devour

The remains of tomorrow.

But you were patient and did not let loose.

We thought you had ample time on your hands, time vast and eternal.

You held the note in your palm, just below the waistcoat of your throat

And you waited for the air to turn, for trees to shrug branches and leaves

For the dust to gather at your feet and flurry in mud baked village soil.

And soon, the breeze hinted at the coming of rain, but not yet.

You gestured patience, the future of water was still to come, 

As drop by drop the drizzle came to our doorstep, one by one we collected raindrops

In this parched land where no bird sings as well.

And soon the rains arrived, the clouds gave way to music, 

As your notes picked up tempo after a long alaap, together with stirring leaves, wet breeze, 

A moment’s respite from the terrible heat that engulfs these parts.

It was hard to point to a single moment when you turned course,  

As you dazzled and drizzled, midstream down the river

As we remembered Tansen bringing rain, the lore of yore,

As we waited with bated breath, hoping against hope

That you would somehow feel better.

Amlanjyoti Goswami has written two widely reviewed books of poetry, River Wedding and Vital Signs, both published by Poetrywala. River Wedding was shortlisted for the Sahitya Akademi award. Published in journals and anthologies across the world, including Poetry, The Poetry Review, Penguin Vintage, Rattle and Sahitya Akademi, he is also a Best of the Net and Pushcart nominee. His work has appeared on street walls of Christchurch, buses in Philadelphia, exhibitions in Johannesburg and an e-gallery in Brighton. He has reviewed poetry for Modern Poetry in Translation and Review 31. He also translates poetry from Assamese into English and has read at various places, including Delhi, Mumbai, New York, Chandigarh, Boston and Bengaluru. He grew up in Guwahati and lives in Delhi.

This article went live on January tenth, two thousand twenty four, at twenty-two minutes past one in the afternoon.

The Wire is now on WhatsApp. Follow our channel for sharp analysis and opinions on the latest developments.

Advertisement
Advertisement
tlbr_img1 Series tlbr_img2 Columns tlbr_img3 Multimedia