MUSIC

Beautiful music is welcoming, walking off the busy intersection, where cars, motor bikes, push bikes, petrol and battery operated rickshaws plus the odd huge bus earn right of way.  The busiest intersection in Bodhgaya leads toward the pedestrian only esplanade of the Mahabodhi Temple Complex.

'Knock off' brightly coloured croc shoes, compete with knitted warmer footwear for attention, yet nothing beats the peacock feather fans of various sizes. The seller is skilled at getting the highest price from the Asian tourists. They are beautiful constructions of pattern exploiting those found on the peacock feathers. Some are very tightly woven using many feathers and others are quite open just using a concentric pattern. The life span of the feathers is limited but right now the luminescence shines. 

Just outside the complex, a sprawling banyan tree shades a simple amphitheatre seating space which attracts a band of urchins ranging in size from three to ten. It is obvious that elder brothers have been entrusted with younger as they wrestle and play before spotting me and descend wanting to know what I am doing and where I am from. It takes about two minutes before I am draped in boys all vying for attention. One of the older boys takes charge and some order is brought to bear as each tells me his name and what class he attends. The younger ones are dismissed with a wave of the hand, ' not at school '. Three police, carrying a flexible lathi each, make their way over to see what is happening and just stop and listen.

The music continues over all the competing sounds. It emanates, surprisingly, from a row of beggars. Seated in a line, with stainless steel bowls in front of crossed legs, it is a double take that makes me realise that most are blind. Visually they look bedraggled, draped in well worn clothes in need of attention. All are male, the youngest looks twenties, it is difficult to guess the eldest. 

The tabla player provides the tempo for the combined vocal choir of sweet song. I recognise bhagans, religious songs and ragas. An audience gathers, equally attracted to vocal beauty, as the ten buskers harmonise in song. This set over, there is no applause; appreciation is shown through kindness, whether coin, note or food. Personal situation has provided stimulus and allowed a dignity of contributing productively to the lives of others.