I know and deeply feel that my music is not mine alone. It is a blessing of the divine that came to me through my guru and father, the great santoor legend and composer, Pandit Bhajan Sopori ji.
Whatever I have learned, whatever I create, and whatever I am able to express through my santoor and compositions carries his blessings, his values, and the grace of that higher source.
So when people tell me that they become one with my music, or that something within them is touched by it, I feel that in that moment, it is not really me or my music anymore. Perhaps it is their own inner music that I am fortunate enough to play for them. I am the medium, they are the receiver, but the source from which that emotion is born is the same.
We come from the same Mother Earth, we breathe the same air, drink the same water, and are all particles of the same divine consciousness. Our languages, identities, cultures, and journeys may be different, but somewhere at the deepest level, our emotions and our spiritual essence are connected.
That is one of the extraordinary powers of music. It can dissolve all the visible boundaries for a few moments. A musical note does not ask who you are, where you come from, what language you speak, or what you believe in. It simply enters the heart.
And when the musician and the listeners become completely absorbed in that same emotion, there is a beautiful state of oneness, love, and harmony. For me, that is perhaps the highest purpose of art.
So if there is one feeling I would want people to carry with them after experiencing my music, it is not merely the memory of the raga, the composition, or the performance. I would want them to carry the beauty of their own soul with them, to rediscover the compassion, peace, love, and divinity that already exist within them.
If my music can make someone feel a little more peaceful, a bit more connected to themselves, to another human being, to nature, or to the divine, then I feel the music has fulfilled its purpose.
Music does not create that beauty within us. It simply reminds us that it was always there.
