three times I asked
and three times the birds sang back (pakshihi susvare)— all three on film in case i would forget this miracle one day (i forgot by lunchtime)
वृक्षवल्ली आम्हां सोयरीं वनचरें
पक्षीही सुस्वरें आळविती
the trees, the forest, the birds with their sweet voices are my relatives
हरिकथा भोजन परवडी विस्तार
the songs of love, stories of the divine, they are an inexhaustible food for all
and what to say of the miraculous trip to assisi this week?
as the sun set and my knees trembled after a day of walking, i could no longer tell the difference between dehu or assisi. between the canticle of the creatures and vruksha valli. st francis, sant tukaram. brother sun, my sisters moon, water; my Mother Earth, brother fire. the trees, the birds. they are our relatives.
surely this life is miraculous. surely, no language can match the speed of this charmed life, of the birds that sing with you when you call out to them, of the golden necklaces, of olive trees, of memories, of the promises made and fulfilled, and of the sisters, mothers, and the saints,
and still. my plum was a little sour tonight, so i wondered if god is upset with me.
not a week goes by where i don’t hum @thesheilachandra and ever so lonely to myself. doing the dishes, vacuuming, practicing bass, writing. the voices we allow into our daily lives. wondering who are the voices who wish to be there. hoping the two align.
grateful for rajna, who is the sound of the earth awakening;
my brother utsav, the sound of a river becoming;
our big brother amir who has been a fountain of grace now and always, showing me fire can kind-le;
for our brother aakash who has been orienting towards Sky now and always.
grateful for the audience who sang with us at the end of this, undoing all our calcifications. it feels almost too precious to share, and even if otherwise how could i go about asking all of you permission? how would I even find you all again?
but still we find you are still with us, the sound you gave.
ever so lonely, original lyrics / modifications i made that night:
original:
Sink into your eyes
Your eyes
Are all I see
Your love is an ocean
An ocean refuses no river
Ever so lonely
An ocean refuses no river
our prayer, drawing from the song:
sink into your eyes; and all I see
is love, devotion, and ecstasy
an ocean refuses no river
im never so lonely / as long as I’ve got you
nina’s birthday / she asked for a song. / nervous i would lose the promise in time, like i have lost many things this year, i thought it was best to sing it immediately, in the garage. /garages sing back with you. (so do cars in them) / some say my memory is flawed. some are awed. / I only care for it as long as it serves love. / at their wedding, we heard rafiq’s aunt sing this song. we listened, transfixed. / and from that memory, came this song. / surely, i could have waited, until i went home, until i learned it, until i found the right quiet setting, the right this, the right that. / the right, the right, a tight jaw. /
but there is something precious about just this. the we all stayed up past our bedtimes and just spent an evening singing together and there’s a car that is rushing down the garage i think, and i better pull the song out quickly / or is it quickly because there’s an eagerness to make someone you have love for smile? / i will learn the song. one day, phrase by phrase, because that is what we should do. learn from each other’s mothers, fathers, aunts. /
but today, this is what my memory could do. for a sister who asked for a song: pull a song from a bag of memories, stick it in between a car and a giggle, forgive my tongue for not speaking the language, trust my heart that prayers transcend our known grammars
hak tun pak tun, pir shams
i read a book three days ago. a professor says that the brain we have may have evolved from a mutation, one that made the muscles of the jaw grip less tightly. this literal weakness— a looser bite in a mammal— gave space to let our brains become larger. and from ape with the loose jaw came the human brain, the book says. this makes me giggle. the human brain that made this beautiful mess, all from a loose jaw. a loose grasp. wear life like a loose shirt. to sing with a loose jaw. to sing with a loose jaw. to sing with a loose jaw.
During the pandemic, I learnt this song because @nithyaforthecity sent it to me. I’ve known her since I was a 14 year old kid— I eventually translated it to our language, Tamil, and was asked to film this for her inauguration as council member (less than two weeks after I had played the double bass for the first time in my life). The song, once translated, asks:
I’ve come to the shore,
There’s no one to be found
Mother, tell me, did I waste all this time?
Nobody is here—
Who shall I call now?
Who will answer my call?
We, the people, have always been each others’ boats, each others’ true waters.
Picking between a reality star who got famous for being terrible— someone whose reality show contract will be guaranteed if he wins this election— or a woman who has spent all her adult in public service shouldn’t be the reality we are in. But for those who can pick, those who live in the city that was once my home too, LA— I hope you know that if you are ever on the shore, Nithya Akka would answer your call, without cameras around.
A voice carried between devotion and improvisation. ✨🎶
From South Asian spiritual traditions to jazz-infused explorations, @ganavya 🇮🇳 brings a deeply singular touch to Essaouira.
You’ll get the chance to see her with her band at the Borj Bab Marrakech stage and a wonderful Tableau at the Opening Concert.
A moment of grace, ritual and musical communion.
ganavya - Opening concert : Thursday June 25 - Moulay Hassan stage
ganavya concert : Friday June 26 - Borj Bab Marrakech stage.
📅 The Gnaoua and World Music Festival - 27th edition
June 25–27, 2026 Essaouira - Morocco
#GnaouaLove #Gnaoua26 #GnaouaFestival
@bill.frisell and golden threads; a few months ago I had written to bill with some sadness (loneliness? something i cannot name) and i received a few songs in return to keep me company. one of those songs— voicenote titled BABY— i could not sing easily without writing words to them, and then i eventually shared them to a few while squinting still at the words. (i shared them first to felix, who nodded; with sam, who gave me only kind feedback to which i said USELESS! and hung up gruffly), and eventually back to bill, who we all know to be nothing but kindness itself
i cannot understand how we were both passing through the same city unexpectedly for a day, his one day off and me having broken my own rule to not fly for a month, but i am nothing but thankful
with an immense hug to @samamidon for his big brother kindness and while the feedback on the lyrics were too kind his suggestion of studios made the impossible possible + @felix_grimm for the co-creation of it all + @harrietmoss for somehow being in the middle of a dense forest of work and still helping us find a place a mere six minutes walk away + @manizehrimer for being a magnet of heart + @terencegoodchild for handing me a hard drive we could put the song on + all for being part of a miraculous portal opening. nothing needs to come of any of this except to say i am thankful, i am thankful, i giggle in the face of it all
next month will be the first time in many, many years, that I will not board a plane for one month. I will write letters of apologies to my knees, I will learn to drink water, I will call my mother and ask her questions just to hear her voice, I will call my father and ask him to give me advice on problems I have made up just to sit by the phone, I will find a way to bother my brother, I will repeat the word ‘husband’ until it loses all meaning and becomes empty for me to fill it with my own, I will read a book and then read another one, I will listen to some songs of my friends’, I will make an excellent cup of tea for someone else to drink, I will read another book of a friend’s, I will learn to leave voice notes instead of writing, I will learn to look at the sky, I will clean the altar and dress it with the clothes of a goddess, I will call my nephew to just look at his smile, I will walk in the forest near home, I will not pluck a flower but still carry its beauty home with me, I will. I will this all to be true.
is the tree a burden for the earth
is the branch a burden for the tree
is the fruit a burden for the branch
is the child a burden to her mother?
on International Mother Language Day, the language of my mother, the language of her mother, the language that mothered me, Tamil.
#tinydesk • How do we find beauty in a broken world? This is the question that @ganavya 's music asks, but lets you answer. At the Tiny Desk, she sings the poems of today in the language of today✨️
🔗 Tap the link in our bio to watch the full performance.
Photo: @moogiem | Maia Stern/NPR
Tiny Desk out now
harp - Charles Overton
bass - Max Ridley
piano - Chris Pattishall
guitar - Shahzad Ismaily
percussion - Felix Grimm
Guitar - Fabi Reyna
Voice - Manizeh Rimer
Voice - Eden Girma
Voice - Zoe Rose de Paz
producer - Lars Gotrich
director/editor - Maia Stern
audio director/mix - Josh Newell
series producer - Bobby Carter
videography - Maia Stern
videography - Joshua Bryant
videography - Kara Frame
videography - Elizabeth Gillis
audio engineer - Neil Tevault
production assistant - Dhanika Pineda
production assistant - Dora Levite
“Holy liberation is the equality of all living beings.” Ch 7: The Goddess, Vimalakirti Sutra. As translated by Robert Thurman. Soundcheck, mindcheck, heartcheck.
Today, Milan. Tomorrow, Barcelona.
