My Music: Where the Finite Touches the Infinite

 

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 stillness, from surrender rather than control.

My compositions are not meant to impress. They are meant to arrive. They evolve organically, guided by feeling rather than form, by listening rather than intention. If they resonate, it is because they are honest. If they linger, it is because they come from a place beyond ego.

This is my music.

A quiet offering.

A reflection of who I am, and who I am still becoming.