The Lalit Blog

A Page from My Garden Amphitheatre Lalit Shastri The music from that morning may be heard here   🎧 Before sunrise, while a dray of squirrels foraged through the guava tree, my guitar quietly traced the ancient journey from Do to Do - the fountainhead that's Do-Re-Mi, from which all music begins. Without quite realizing it, I felt like turning my little garden into my own amphitheatre. The garden did not become an amphitheatre because I carried a guitar into it. It became one because I finally learned to listen. It happened naturally. I was sitting quietly, waiting to embrace another day, listening to the stillness before dawn. The squirrels had already begun their determined morning rounds on the guava tree. Birds were slowly announcing the arrival of light, while a gentle breeze stirred the leaves. Almost instinctively, I reached for my guitar. Very soon, it no longer felt like an instrument imposed upon the garden. It became another voice within it. I began with the familiar as...

  Lalit Shastri I did not come to music to perform. I came to it to listen. The music was always there—somewhere deep within me, waiting patiently. I learned the guitar not to create sound, but to let that sound flow, to give it a passage into the world. The instrument became a conduit, not a tool—a way for what already existed inside me to find air, space, and silence. When I play, I am not chasing perfection or applause. I am seeking communion. Music, for me, is a form of prayer—an intimate conversation with the omnipresent source of everything that is finite and infinite. In those moments, I feel less like a composer and more like a witness, allowing something larger than myself to reveal itself through simple notes and unhurried rhythms. I believe music happens at the meeting point of limitation and boundlessness: finite hands touching an infinite flow. The pauses matter as much as the notes. Silence is not absence—it is presence. What I play emerges from that awareness, from s...