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Mystical

Writer's picture: BNCHY TeamBNCHY Team


It was a beautiful evening.  The kind that comes rarely.  Beautiful weather.  Friends.  And a concert of one of the most soulful singers of our times – the Wadali brothers.

He had always been a big fan of their music, but more so of the lyrics.  He was a ‘lyrics person’ at the end of the day.  He understood the depth of emotion one draws into when coming up with poignant lyrics.  Although he had an appreciation for music, it didn’t move him much.  Probably because he never created music.  He had attended various concerts all around the world – from musicals in Paris and Cancun, to Whirling Dervishes in Istanbul, to symphony in Boston – but he always needed to understand the lyrics to truly relish.

This was different.  Wadali borthers performed in a language, which although he didn’t apprehend too well, he could always comprehend.  They started playing.  His eyes closed.  He was enraptured.  He escaped his own sense of self for a while and was transcended to a different world.  He was dancing inside like someone possessed.  He was ‘meditating.’  It was so therapeutic.  He opened his eyes.  He had been tearful all this while.  It took heart to make something beautiful that made him weep.  He felt liberated.

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