Ivan's finger danced along the dolak skins, crashing loud with thunderous strikes; trilling lightly along in fluttering rhythm.

As he worked his instrument so too played on the harmonium, so too sung on the singer and so too flew forth the wood-wind of flute. All binding in rapturous synchrony, working the crowd into an enchanted frenzy -- devotion poured forth in plenty, each an actor upon the Lord's stage.

Solitary drops each giving forth all that was already given, emptying out all unhidden. Liberated, free, each singing their sole yet collective devotion for Thee.