Percussion
I remember the sound of drums, from when I was little As processions from the temple near my home Went past and the smell of incense and smoke Would waft through the cold air. I would run out in excitement to look at the people Sometimes ladies dressed in silk and gold Sometimes men bare chested, with tongues pierced. Wailing, chanting, singing Depending on the occasion. And when the procession was three feet from my gate, The sounds and the vibrations of the drums, Made my heart pound, like the drums. I would shriek and run into the house and peer from behind the door. I couldn't miss the sight and the sound of the traditional temple drums Even if it was from behind the door. It was probably a decade later, A different drum, watching Ustad Zakir Hussain Playing the tabla in the Taj Mahal Tea advertisement. Which was more fascinating? I now wonder. Watching the Ustad with his lovely smile and locks Or the rhythm of the tabla. A few years later, whenever we had family visit from