Bhairavi

As a fan and student of Carnatic music, I gravitate towards seeking refuge in music, especially during hard times of my life or during particularly difficult times of day. My taste in music and subsequently ragas, seems to follow in lock step, the coping strategies I have adopted when life has gotten stressful. In days past, I would have run from my problems and indulged in ragas that complemented my emotions, those which evoked a romantic musical escape from my problems. That worked then, it was sufficient. But now as I look inward, in the stillness of self awareness, as I reunite with my spirit to evaluate who I really am and how I want to lead the rest of my life and as I invoke the courage to cope with adversity, I find myself indelibly drawn to the depths of Bhairavi and the solace it has to offer.

Peculiarly, my desire to listen to Bhairavi coincides with when I feel the worst. It beckons me to seek refuge in its embrace. It offers catharsis.
It is at once a reflection of my mental state and the cure for it. For how can one cure pain without first acknowledging it. There isn't a quick or superficial fix for the pain. On the other hand, there is no excessive lingering in the state of melancholy either. No denial, no running away, no dwelling, just an acceptance of what is. From this visceral recognition comes the courage to cope with and find a way out. There is no heady optimism here, but an affirmation and commitment to heal. The healing has a certainty and sense of permanence to it. This power arises not out of foolish hope or romantic rescue but from an ascent fueled by the depth of the fall.