Prem Nadesan: Spiritual Harmony of Sound

Project by: Prem Nadesan

Mentor: Smt. Sasikala Krishnamoorthy

Literature Review

My experience with music began in middle school when I joined the school musical. At

the time, it simply seemed like an extracurricular, an experiment. However, as I found my

introduction to the world of singing—memorizing songs, harmonizing with others on

stage—something unexpected happened: I discovered a passion that transformed me. Singing became more than a hobby; it became a channel for self-expression and self-regulation. It was about learning to listen to myself—to my mind, to my breath, to silence. These early musical experiences gave me a foundation in vocal training that would later deeply impact my engagement with Hindu chanting. Practicing shlokas and mantras became more fluid and calming. I found myself connecting to Hindu spirituality in a deeper way, as the musical skills I had acquired brought power and beauty to each chant.

In Hinduism, sound holds a divine place. Our religion teaches that the universe we live in

originated from sound. The syllable “Om” is not just a word but a vibration that represents the entirety of the cosmos. According to the Mandukya Upanishad, “Om is this imperishable Word.

Om is the universe, and this is the exposition of Om. The past, the present, and the future, all that was, all that is, all that will be is Om.” (Mandukya Upanishad, 1). Here, sound is not simply symbolic—it is elemental. It is the essence of all creation. Everything we see and feel emerged from this first vibration. This profound idea reshaped my understanding of music—it wasn’t just relaxing or fun; it was sacred.

This sacred view of sound continues into the daily practice of many Hindus. Music is not

only used for entertainment but also for devotion. The religion’s spiritual vocabulary is rich with musical expressions: shlokas (scriptural verses), mantras (sacred phrases), bhajans (devotional songs), and kirtans (call-and-response hymns). These practices are meant to be sung, not merely spoken. Sound, especially when carried by voice, is believed to be infused with shakti, or spiritual energy. According to the Bhagavad Gita, “Whatever you do, whatever you eat, whatever you offer in sacrifice, whatever you give away, and whatever austerity you perform—do that as an offering to Me.” (Gita 9.27). Bhajans and kirtans become a form of offering. Singing is not performance—it is prayer. In Narada Bhakti Sutra, the sage Narada says, “Bhakti is of the nature of supreme love toward God... When a person gets it, he loves all, hates none, and becomes satisfied forever.” (Sutra 54). In communal singing, barriers fall away, and hearts unite. I have carried this ideology to the stage; when I sing for others, I keep God at the forefront of my mind, even if the song isn’t religious. I understand that no matter the context, offering my voice to God provides a deep state of love and satisfaction that cannot be attained by any other means.

In Hinduism, music also exists beyond physical hearing. Consider Ludwig van Beethoven, who composed symphonies after losing his ability to hear. He still felt the music.

This aligns with Nada Yoga, a Hindu philosophy that teaches the power of inner sound.

Practitioners meditate on subtle vibrations, listening not with the ears but with the soul. In this view, music becomes a sensory experience beyond hearing—it can be felt in the body, mind, and spirit. This insight is especially relevant to accessibility: even individuals who are deaf or hard of hearing can engage with music through its vibrations. Music, especially singing, is uniquely accessible. Singing doesn’t require instruments, technology, or formal settings. It can be practiced anywhere, by anyone, at any time. The Rig Veda supports this with the verse, “Let us sing praises with a loud voice to the Lord who gives joy to all beings.” (Rig Veda 1.164.39).

Singing is simple, powerful, and open to all. In many cultures, music is often reserved for those with access to resources, private lessons, or expensive instruments. But within Hindu teachings and my own philosophy, music belongs to everyone. The voice, which we all possess, becomes the instrument of spiritual and emotional healing. This is why the idea of teaching singing to children resonated with me so strongly. It was a way to democratize joy and healing.

In addition, Hindu teachings emphasize the importance of seva, or selfless service, as a

path toward spiritual growth. By creating a space where children can come to sing, laugh, and eat without paying anything or meeting any prerequisites, Music and Meal is a form of seva in action. The service is not transactional—it is a gift. This notion further aligns the work with the foundational ideas of karma yoga, where one acts without attachment to outcomes but with devotion to the greater good. The reward is not material. It’s the radiant joy on the kids’ faces, the laughter during an icebreaker game, the quiet pride of a student who finally finished a song.

With this understanding of sound, music, and accessibility, I was inspired to create Music

and Meal: a nonprofit that embraces the universal power of singing while also supporting

children and their families through nourishment and joy.

Method

The idea behind Music and Meal was born from two powerful experiences: my love of

singing and my participation in a nonprofit theater group. For two years, I performed in cultural events and senior centers, witnessing firsthand how art could uplift spirits and create connection.

I realized I didn’t want to just perform—I wanted to teach. I wanted to bring the joy of music to others, particularly children, and make it accessible to all, regardless of their background. That meant making it free, fun, and nourishing—emotionally and physically.

Initially, I began reaching out to churches and schools to find students, but response was

limited. I didn’t give up. Eventually, Facebook became the tool that brought the first few families to the program. Word of mouth began to spread. Parents appreciated that the program was free and offered their kids not only music training but also a meal afterward, removing an additional burden from their day.

Each class is one hour long and held every other week. My first session was heavily

focused on technical vocal instruction: glottal vs. aspirate onsets, falsetto, false vocal folds,

thyroid and cricoid tilt for tone, semi-occluded vocal tract exercises to encourage efficient vocal fold vibration, and more. I even taught the role of the epiglottis for twang, the velum for nasality control, and the larynx for adjusting brightness or darkness in tone. Something was clearly off. The kids seemed...bored?

I adjusted. I realized that kids learn best through play. I added games—two truths and a

lie, riddles, and physical challenges. For example, to teach about false vocal folds, I had students sing while trying to lift a window slat that was nailed down. As they tried to lift it, they noticed their throat constricting—an experiential way to feel the effects of false vocal fold constriction.

They loved it. It was both hilarious and educational. We repeated it the next week to reinforce the concept.

I also included popular songs like Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off” to keep things upbeat and

familiar. Every session began with icebreakers and light vocal warmups, not only to prepare the voice but to build community. Most importantly, everyone sang together. Whether in harmony or unison, the collective act of singing brought the kids closer. This unity reflected the same communal joy found in kirtans.

The final piece of each session, the meal, was essential. Sharing food is a deeply spiritual

act in Hinduism. In temples, offerings become prasadam, blessed food shared by all. In Music and Meal, the food may not be ritually blessed, but the act of sharing remains sacred. Parents were grateful to not worry about dinner, and kids stayed afterward to chat and laugh—forming bonds that transcended the classroom.

Over time, I began involving the students more directly in setting goals and song choices.

When they felt ownership over the class, they showed more enthusiasm. I encouraged them to inform me on what songs they liked and wanted to sing. That’s how “Shake It Off” was picked as a practice song. The kids’ song-interests were surveyed, and Taylor Swift was turned out to be the kids’ favorite artists. I used this same approach to pick their next piece of music, a Mamma Mia! Medley. Although teaching Hindu songs would have the most profound effect on the kids’ lives, not everyone follows Hinduism; it is important to find subtle ways to instill Hindu values into the lives of others. Spiritual expression exists in all cultures, and music is a beautiful way to honor that diversity. While Music and Meal is rooted in values inspired by Hinduism, its impact has grown beyond any single faith tradition.

Results

The impact of Music and Meal has been profound. One student, who is on the autism

spectrum, experienced significant emotional regulation through singing. His parents told me that after each session, he was calmer, more focused, and happier. Music gave him a tool to express himself and center his emotions.

Other students described Music and Meal as “different” from their other extracurriculars.

Unlike sports or academic clubs, there was no competition. No trophies. No pressure. Just music, friends, and fun. They felt free to be themselves, to experiment, and to support each other. One child said, “This is the only thing I do where no one is trying to be the best. We’re all on the same side.”

Week by week, excitement grew—not just for singing, but for being together. Friendships

blossomed. Kids began asking when the next session would be. They didn’t just want to

learn—they wanted to belong. Singing together had created a shared emotional space, one of trust and joy.

As a teacher, I grew alongside my students. I learned how to transform complex vocal

science into playful activities. I became more patient and attentive, able to read a child’s mood or comfort level. I adapted my teaching style—some students needed extra encouragement, while others thrived on group interaction. I learned to communicate clearly and empathetically, building an environment where every child felt heard.

One of my proudest moments was seeing the kids remember the false vocal fold exercise

with the window. It had become a shared joke—a moment of laughter and learning that united the class. These small victories were deeply meaningful.

Discussion

The outcomes of Music and Meal echo the teachings of Hinduism about music, sound,

and community. In Bhagavata Purana, it says, “Where there is singing of the Lord's glories, the Lord himself is present.” (1.19.39). While we may not have been singing devotional songs, the sacred presence of joy, connection, and love was unmistakable. Just as in a kirtan, the shared act of singing brought everyone into alignment—emotionally and spiritually.

The autistic student’s response demonstrates the calming, centering power of music—a

phenomenon supported by Nada Yoga. In Hindu practice, listening to inner or outer vibrations aligns the mind and body. Our sessions became a modern application of this ancient practice, helping children find emotional grounding through song.

Sharing a meal at the end of each lesson resonates with the Hindu value of community

and service. Like prasadam, it nourished more than the body—it fed the soul and cemented

relationships. The idea that food and music can both be sacred offerings was lived out in every session.

Even the accessibility of singing reflects Hindu philosophy. Singing doesn’t require

money or materials. It only requires breath and willingness. It belongs to everyone, just like the sound of Om belongs to the universe.

Looking ahead, I plan to grow Music and Meal in several ways. First, I hope to organize

student performances—giving the children a chance to showcase their progress and build

confidence. Second, I want to bring in more students, especially from underserved communities.

Third, I aim to introduce spiritual songs like bhajans and Indian folk tunes, deepening the

cultural and spiritual connection. Lastly, I hope to hold intergenerational events, with kids

performing for elders, creating a cycle of joy that echoes my own past service in the theater

group East End Kids.

In conclusion, Music and Meal is more than a nonprofit. It is a living embodiment of

Hindu beliefs about music, service, and connection. It is a place where sound becomes spirit,

where voices rise in unity, and where every note is a step toward harmony.

Link to Final Presentation File