From Coldplay to Krishnadas: A musical high

It was a pleasant spring day in Dallas (one of the very few that we get). I was attending an unlikely event; A midsummer night’s dream ballet. We reached the Winspear Opera house a little late and I was rushing towards the door. One of my friends mentioned that he wanted to check out a cafe nearby. I was annoyed, thinking we might miss the beginning of the ballet. Winspear Opera House is located in an upscale area of Dallas and has spaced-out gardens and fountains and many benches you can sit on.  My friend had already started moving away from the entrance and towards the cafe. There were many people around, doing their own thing. Some kids were playing in the fountains, there was a wedding shoot happening in one of the gardens, and many impeccably dressed people were getting their tickets scanned at the entrance. 

Amongst all this I saw a guy, sitting on a bench, with his head down, his face hidden by his cap, looking at his phone, wearing plain jeans and a t-shirt. He looked so out of place, that I wondered who he was and why was he here (Honestly, my brain immediately thought of true crime episodes). I quickly ran and caught up with my friends. As the cafe was closed, we headed back. This time the same guy was sitting up straight and had taken his cap off. I looked at him and by some miracle, I didn’t faint. In a muffled voice, I told my friend that it’s him, it’s that guy from Coldplay, its Chris Martin! My friend saw him, confirmed my suspicion, and was even more flustered than I was.

Now you have to understand that at this point I wasn’t just star-struck. This wasn’t just a great musician that I  was lucky enough to see. A dear friend introduced me to Coldplay about 12 years ago. The first song of theirs that I heard was Paradise. I was then an insecure girl in her early 20s, who couldn’t accept in front of her apparently musically inclined friends that she didn’t like the song that much, only the video. But quickly I found my way to more of their songs, the ones that I liked.

Probably four years later, I was singing and dancing to Yellow, with my newly found best friends who basically are family to this day. Around the same time, I was daydreaming to A Sky Full Of Stars.  Soon Viva la Vida, became my favorite Coldplay song, not because of the lyrics( albeit great), but because of who introduced me to them, I was still crying to Fix You and all my friends knew not to play it around me.

This and much more is what Coldplay and Chris Martin meant to me. So when I froze in my steps when I saw him and didn’t know what to do next, you probably can relate. It was a very awkward moment, for he was looking straight at us, expecting us to walk up to him and we, umm, DIDN’T. He probably had seen that reaction many times before and gestured us to come along saying, ”Yes it’s me. Come on over!!”.

In a dreamlike state, I walked toward him and told him that I missed his concert in Mumbai and in Dallas.  When he learned that I’m from Mumbai he immediately asked if I watched IPL and which team was I supporting.  Having an IPL conversation with Chris Martin was more than my brain could take and it short-circuited. Luckily a friend came to the rescue and asked for a picture. Chris Martin kept his hand on my left shoulder and I haven’t washed that dress yet(I probably never will). I smiled with all my 64 teeth and more. As we were leaving I told him that I loved his music and Yellow and Scientist were my absolute favorites. He winked and said mine too. I’m amazed at how my heart remembered to take the next beat and how my legs remembered to take the next step.

Anyway, after that unreal experience, I had to attend his concert. I booked tickets to his New Jersey concert next month. I attended the concert with the same friends I started listening to Yellow a decade ago. Describing the experience of the concert is above my pay grade. I don’t have the writing skills to put it down in words. It is an experience that can only be understood by having it in person. All I remember was seeing one man, just one man swaying the emotions of 40,000 people. People who were so diverse, that their lives would probably have not intersected, were it not for the love of this one band.

It was an interactive concert and everyone felt a part of the band. Coldplay’s pledge to sustainability and many small thoughtful references hoping for world peace made the concert even more worthwhile. My personal achievement is that almost a decade later, now I no longer cry to Fix You, instead, I can enjoy it and even dance a little. 

The ironic thing about the above story is my state of mind, earlier in the day, before I met Chris Martin. What is the point of life?, is what I was thinking. My life is good and is comfortable, but is this it? Are most days going to more or less look like this, going ahead? They aren’t bad but are monotonous, mundane, and boring. Meeting Chris Martin was like life telling me to not be so disappointed, for no one knows what the next turn might bring.

And following the same theme; who knew that I was to meet an even greater rockstar later that month.

I am not a religious person, but I do what I must to get through the day. Sometimes that looks like meditation, sometimes it looks like a few beers with friends, and sometimes it looks like mindless binge-watching on YouTube.To get over the low feeling I have tried multiple things across the last 15 years; Bramhavidya, Bramhakumaris, the art of living, therapy, medication, Ajahm Bramh, and more. While listening to all of them felt amazing I realized that when life got tough my mind was quick to forget all the spiritual intellectualism and go back to its own patterns. Years later I found Vipassana, it appealed to my logical mind and was the only thing that worked. But sitting down to do nothing was a task when I didn’t even feel like getting out of the bed. 

By some higher intervention( read youtube’s recommendation algorithm) Krishnadas popped up on my feed. Who was this American singing Indian bhajans? I did a quick google search and was even more surprised to learn that he had won a Grammy for it. Gradually I came to know him, through his books, talks, chants, and countless stories. 

In an otherwise complicated, selfish world here was a guy demonstrating through his life the power of being kind, living in a good way and serving others. His Thursday online chants during covid kept me sane. When I could do nothing and think nothing positive, I could still sit and chant with him, and for that little while, my self-sabotaging mind would be quiet. So when I came to know that he was doing a tour across the USA, I had to attend.  Luckily, he had a show in Boulder, CO which is also the home of one of my dearest friends. So I booked tickets and was ready to go. Fast forward to the day of the concert. I didn’t know what to expect.

In a simple Boulder theater, a crowd of Krishnadas fans gathered. A Boulder resident named Sam sat next to me and an old couple from Denver sat on the other side. I had found a perfect spot for myself, across the center of the stage. Krishnadas walked in with his harmonium. He had been so much a part of my life, that it was hard to imagine him as another human being. But there he was in person, not on YouTube. He started the concert by saying, “Your life isn’t going to change in the next 2 hours, you will return to the same problems and the same life; you are not going to get enlightened in the next two hours; you are not going to have any surreal spiritual experiences in the next two hours; so for the next two hours just sing and let go”. 

And for the next two hours, he sang. He didn’t open his eyes, he just played his harmonium and chanted. Looking at him, as hard as I tried, I couldn’t place his identity. It felt like the only purpose he had in life was to chant. I could just see fingers playing the harmonium and lips singing. There was nothing else there; only chants flowing through this being. While Krishnadas is a spiritual singer, don’t underestimate the entertainer he is. He knows very well how to work the room.

Even with his eyes closed, with only one musical instrument at his disposal, signing Bhanjans 1000’s of years old, he could still make a bunch of westerners dance and chant and transformed the little unassuming boulder theatre into an electrifying trance-like state. I felt more present in that room than I have in any place in my life. I realized that I could have chosen any seat, as my eyes were closed throughout the concert and all I was doing was listening to Krishnadas’ peaceful and love-filled voice and chanting. 

Sam, next to me sang Hanuman Chalisa with impeccable pronunciation, and the older couple next to me knew all the chants. Even with all this serenity around the room, I could see my ego crop up its head. It was hearing my voice, thinking how good and spiritual I sounded. For almost an hour this went on, but the good part was that I was acutely aware of how strong, “The story of me” is. 

This awareness helped me soften a bit and shook me out of my own world. I noticed that 400 ought people in that room, albeit with different accents, were one voice. No one sound was discernible, only the collective. It was a powerful experience of oneness. A bit uncomfortable for me, since I thrive on independence, but I can’t deny what I was feeling. The concert ended as easily as it had started, with Krishnadas bowing in front of us and then leaving the stage. 

Those two hours, were the most powerful two hours of my life yet. They didn’t feel like a part of the timeline of life. They are just suspended outside space and time,  and I can tap into them when I need them.  Years ago in the hills of southern India, I had an experience, that my life was likely to be a dance between depression and devotion. While I understood the depression aspect of it, I couldn’t make any sense of what devotion meant. I had never felt devotion, only a painful longing, which I couldn’t attribute to anything either. Krishnadas’ music was probably the answer to that longing. The pure love that I kept searching for in people, travels, and experiences was so simply requited by Krishnadas’ chants.

I feel immensely blessed to have had such diverse, amazing musical experiences in my life at such short intervals. I have long wondered what success means. Wealth, intelligence, impact, and love have all been answers at some point. One thing I have realized is that it definitely is not what society tells you. The only real definition of success is the one that you find for yourself. My definition of success, at least for now, is what Krishnadas always says, “Find a way to live in this world, in a good, kind way and all will be okay.”