#WMD2024 Travelling the World through Music by Atheena Rajesh

Listen. Can you hear it? The smoke of New Orleans filling the midnight streets. The jazzy, smooth lilt finding its way into the soles of your shoes—you’ll find yourself tapping to the beat even as you pass by the little crevices of music springing up in the streets. The saxophone croons smoothly through your ears, as the snare gets your shoulders moving. Before you realize it, you’re sliding open the doors and sharing a cigar with a stranger, listening to Louis Armstrong and Aretha Franklin till the golden rays in the skies ruin the fun. The light staccato piano, the deep hypnotizing quartets—the smoke of a night you’ll never forget.

But perhaps when the sun rises, you’ll listen for the colors of Bahia. Do you hear it? The ghetto is filled with life, life you’ve never seen, life you’ve never before felt. The people here are the silence of the night, the light of dawn. As you pass through, your ears will be filled with the celebrations of Afoxé—no one can tell where the energy comes from. You’ll find the hues of Brazil spread across your skin—yellow, green, and blue covering you head to toe—as you lose yourself to the samba bands. Before you know it, the rhythm of Oxalá has taken over your very being, and your soul will be consumed with the colors of the people.

As you tire out, maybe you’ll drink the exquisite wine of Europe. Can you feel it? The tranquil echoes of the theatre. The musicians are on stage, poised with grace in their sophisticated concert black. The string instruments lightly grace your ears as they follow the rhythmic pace of the conductor. Your eyelids cave in, and you’ll find them falling, as you take in the rich, serene beauty of the light, airy orchestra—it is the refreshing wine your body was begging for.

As you step out, though, you’re taken in by the nature of Ghana. The Earth is forcing you to dance to its beat and sway with the wind. The upbeat, choral music of Africa is pulling you in, and before you can blink, you’re dancing again, but this time in an easy rhythm. The hardwood djembe welcomes you, regaling stories of many a man that has danced on the dust you now stand upon. Drums—these are the tools of hope and storytelling, the connection to the land around us. It is the rhythm of the dirt, the music of the skies—it is a jive, a celebration of life. Don’t you see? You’re dancing to the music of nature.

But the trip is not over yet. Suddenly you hear a clear, melodious voice—the sound mimicking the tones of a nightingale. You’ll find yourself searching for the source—and only finding the shimmering lakes of Udaipur. But before you can take in the purity of the scene, you hear the voice again, the sweet, crystal-like voice leading you to the scorching heat of the Thar Desert. You’ve never seen an orange like this—the sand expanding like the seas. The colors fill you with life and exuberance. You’ll find yourself haunted by the beauty, but a sharp voice snaps you back to reality. Where is it coming from? As you run after it, you’ll find yourself once again at another expanse—this time the blue seas at Kanyakumari. The smell of fishermen, the humid air—a perfect contrast to the desert you just witnessed. You feel your stresses escape you, fading into the abyss, as you witness the serenity and echoes of silence consume you. But before you can let go completely, the voice emerges once more—almost taunting you to find it. No longer a nightingale, but a mockingbird, teasing you for not catching it. And despite wanting to stay, you continue to chase after it. Perhaps it was a good thing you went after it—for had you not, you would have never found the Sundarbans of West Bengal. The green, lush Earth cleansing your soul, the swampy air filling you with ease.

Perhaps this is what the voice wants from me.

Not to find it, but to find India.

To find its shimmering lakes and breathtaking monuments.

To find the glorious colors of the sand and sea.

To find my peace in the arms of the mangroves.

To see the music of the entire world,

All right here in my land.

In India.

My name is Atheena Rajesh, a class 12 student studying in Kerala. I am a as prolific writer of essays and poems, and this essay that I have written showcases my passion for music in various cultures and how it connects deeply with each other and the places and sights of India, almost to signify that no matter where you're from, you'll find yourself adoring and falling for the beauty that India has to offer.