In plain words
‘Gaṅgā Yamunā nirmal pānī’: those two are pure. What does that mean? They are free of selfishness. Grandly they flow, the Gaṅgā and the Yamunā. But they do not drink their own water. They give that water to the people alone. They merge into the ocean called grace. So the Iḍā and Piṅgaḷā nāḍīs are what teach purity. There God is. ‘Mora makuṭa pītāmbara sahita kuṇḍala rajita śarīr, chalo re man’: what inner meaning there is in it! What Ānanda it brings.
Through the purity of the three instruments, God becomes manifest
Nārada and Tumburu went on describing God as ‘one who loves song’. When they sang, God would be lost in it. When you meditate on God through that song, you merge into God. For this very reason they went on setting up what is called ‘community bhajan’. The pull that is in this singing is not seen in anything else. There is no need to lose heart, thinking, ‘We do not know how to sing.’ Sing within your own heart. Do not look to śruti, laya, rāga and tāla for ten people to hear. That singing moves God so much. What is the reason? This singing begins from the navel. Beginning from the navel, it comes out through the tongue. That itself is it: the navel, the tongue and the tāla; the oneness of these three is the purity of the three instruments. Through this purity of the three instruments, God becomes manifest. Many poets write ever so many poems. Besides, they compose a great deal of prose. They say in a poem, ‘Rāma! Protect me.’ In prose too they say, ‘Rāma! Protect me.’ But neither of these two is so very attractive. Instead, if you sing ‘Rāma, protect me’ from the heart, how tender it is! It draws the very heart of God. So through song we must draw God into ourselves. Song is God's own gift of grace! How many people make efforts to please God! But they fail. Without any effort, song springs forth easily, simply, gently, sweetly and in Ānanda.