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In the Indian context, the cultural and the spiritual are cohabitants of the same enclave. There are emotional crossovers between culture, religion, faith and spirituality. Our thoughts and practices belong to more than one of these categories. Spirituality, though described as a way to ‘realise the self’, is always stuck between belief, ritual and purity. More often than not, societal condescension and disregard of certain cultures is a judgement of their spiritual status.

For long I have refrained from using this word to describe my musical experience. I was afraid that it would be highjacked by the religious and filed in the Religion rack. Clouded by that fear, I forgot that it could be the open door needed for the conservative faithful to join in a larger, catholic conversation. My musical experiences are spiritual; they are deeply moving philosophical dives that cannot be explained in words. But they are not otherworldly, nor are they transcendent or inaccessible to everyone else. And they most definitely do not place me at a higher level of consciousness.

They are moments of reflection, when I am able to observe all the sensory inputs I receive sans pre-conceived judgement. This also means I am able to offer music without blocks or suspicion. Music breaks down the walls that isolate me. I stand before you with no protective gear. But there is one question that remains with me once I return from these enlightening musical voyages: Why am I not such a human being in my everyday life?

For believers, perhaps this experience might arise when they stand before their lord—a state in which the disturbing voices of oppressors don’t haunt the oppressed. If that fleeting moment of uncluttered solitude exists for someone, no one has the right to snatch it away from them.

I am reminded of an old woman I met when a few of us were trekking up Parvathamalai, a hill near the town of Tiruvannamalai in Tamil Nadu. It is a three-hour trek that includes a few tough stretches, a series of cement steps and finally, a precarious climb on and over a rock face. Waiting for us on the other side was lord Siva in the form of a linga. The weather in the month of May was blistering and dehydrating. As we neared the steps section, I noticed an old lady panting and scrambling over the steps. Every move........

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