Reflection on Harmonium – a Prose Poem

Reflection on Harmonium – a Prose Poem

By Mahbubul Karim (Sohel)

September 12, 2009

Once it used to be the lifeblood of a musical lore. Once it used to lighten up the room with impeccable tune playing the auditory dance with a classical voice of a singer. Pumping the below in one hand, and the other to play the plastic covered black and white keys, harmonium player raced the musical field like a man in a battle. Striking the keys with force, pulling and pushing the below with vigour, matching the tabla player’s fierce tempo in bayan while leading the singer’s vocal to crescendo perfecto. Now as it lies abandoned, replaced by glittery synthesizers and digital gizmo, harmonium’s last breath extends: not giving up! Not giving up! Unlike its brethren accordion, you don’t have to strap it on your chest. Unlike the cousin violin, you don’t have to place it on your shoulder. No bow is needed. No feet pump is required. Harmonium, the maestro, sits in a forgotten corner of locked up closet. Too majestic, humble dislocation. One day as the evening was quietly slipping into glimmering twilight, a seasoned inferno raged the storm on its keys, jolting the dozing listeners, ushering in old memories, tune of distant past, poetic credulous and luminescent flare, as if the promised divinity is resurrected, as if all the bombs and disguised hatreds metamorphosed into poetry virtuoso.

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Inspired by poet Al Zolynas' beautiful prose poem Considering the Accordion.

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