The Universal Language

It’s 6pm on a tiring, balmy Wednesday. I have just finished work and frankly, I’m not in the best of moods. But then my sister tells me that I should join her on a work assignment. Being a full time journalist, my sister is constantly discovering new places to visit, stumbling across an array of delightful eateries and covering various events.
She mentioned something about a musical event- to be honest I was sold from the get-go!

At the entrance to the hall, I am informed that this show is strictly for invitees. True to form my sister has failed to tell me this, but I put my best journalistic face on and it does the trick!
The hall is jam-packed with people – mostly old I notice. Later I’m told that the show is in celebration of Sri Lankan folk music.


Lights dim, inaugural speeches are made and finally the show commences with the resonating wail of the conch shell. As the curtains swing open, the crowd murmurs in excited anticipation. I am left awe-stuck as I stare, open mouthed, at the hundreds of musicians assembled on stage perfectly poised and ready to burst into melodies from time immemorial.

The rhythmic drum beats, harmonious twang of sitars and symphonic melodies of violins cascading to a euphoric crescendo left me pleasantly speechless. Closing my eyes, I listened with bated breath to colourful tune after tune of traditional folk songs played to perfection, tunes that have been played over countless decades. I open my eyes once again and watch the audience- eyes transfixed on the stage, tapping to the cadenced beats, some even smiling.

Music is a form of therapy for me. A friend once asked me if I could imagine life without music. My answer is no. Without song, my life would lack vigour, movement, passion and spirit. With the escalating rhythm enveloping me, I felt myself letting go of all worldly troubles and sinking into the cathartic beats of the tabla.

Music speaks to ones soul- it crosses ages and cultures. It is the universal language. These folk songs were foreign to me. Most of them being songs you would listen to in a Hindu temple or a traditional Pooja – yet after awhile I found that these songs sounded strangely familiar. A sense of oneness floated around the hall that transcended ethnic backgrounds, a purified sense of belonging not only to Sri Lanka, but humanity.




Music is the universal language of mankind. ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Outre-Mer