https://youtu.be/bY-abmXNqzI

‪@elasticStage‬ ‪@PeacocksTaleMusic‬ The incredible love story of Merwan Irani a young Persian Zoroastrian boy living in British India just before the First World War whose bright future is seemingly wrecked by his sudden overwhelming love for Hazrat Babajan, an ancient Muslim woman seated in a gutter under a neem tree on the boy's cycle route to school. But she is no ordinary ancient Muslim woman. She turns out to be the boy's first Perfect Master who will give him God-realisation and guide him on his own path of Perfect Mastery and a world-shaking role in our time as Avatar Meher Baba. From "A Life Supremely Lived. A Biography of Meher Baba in ghazals" IV. The Kiss (Poona, January 1914)

Babajan’s wild May embrace fills up to empty all his daze. He is half-dead to the whole world and its crazed, cold, lonely ways. All this world can give him nothing, has no meaning, only Her. In the classroom, on the games field, he no longer wins its praise. All the gross world once his oyster now is nothing but a shell; Every evening in her gutter, mute with love’s unspoken phrase. Ah! her rose lips brush his man’s brow… little finger points, “Behold, World! my dear Son who will shake you and awake you with his rays.” Numb, his fraught form stumbles homewards, gropes, abstracted and amazed, To his bed, lies absent-minded, oh that sleepless vacant gaze! Ah! a strangler’s thousand strong hands seem to seize him by the throat. Krishna’s black hole, Buddha’s great void; sweet nirvana’s self-erase. All her love-shock, felt that Mayday, has reprised her guiding Light At a thousand times the voltage, leads him, love-blind, through the haze. Holy terror as his veins turn into livewires, flesh to Light, Breath to vacuum; heart to stilled drum, ego-mind shelled like a glaze. Let her God-hands lift his boy face as her God-eye meets his Eye: Let her God-kiss lift his torn veil and consume him in her blaze! Oh Ghaz, stop! words can’t imagine with what fear poor Merwan shook As her soul-kiss killed and razed him, that our winters should be Mays. © Gareth Calway 2026. The poetic form is the classical Persian ghazal (in English), as perfectly employed by Hafiz to convey mystical divine love and designed to express abandoned emotion at the same time as it negotiates a fiendishly demanding metre and rhyme scheme. Piano - Maz Vocals, harp, bass, drums - Gaz.

Spoken word version - Gaz.

The Book of Simon (promotional trailer)

THE BOOK OF SIMON

​ @elasticStage   @PeacocksTaleMusic  Five Paul Simon tracks and a bonus track, each given a bespoke performance and production by two huge fans as a tribute to one of the greatest songwriters of the twentieth century, a digital download of this this Bandcamp EP is yours for a fiver. Buy it here - https://peacocks-tale.bandcamp.com/album/the-book-of-simon

america, american tune, old friends, slip slidin' away, april, come she will

,https://peacocks-tale.bandcamp.com/album/the-book-of-simon

Interenational Burns Nacht 2026

 https://youtu.be/PCRC6gflBAU

Rabbie’s Full Hour. Our Sixth (unless I was too drunk to count) Annual International Burns Nacht. It is a testament to the immortal genius of Rabbie Burns that his poetry can inspire, accompany and celebrate such a sublime banquet of body, feast of friendship and sumptuous psalm of soul. His poetry is the stuff of life. It is witty, wise and wonderful. It is a party. It is hearty. It is human. It is fun. It sings. It is superbly skilled in versification in two languages, English and Scots. And it I know no other poet who can do all this while being the presiding spirit/life and soul of a drunken dinner party. (With the possible exceptions, of course, of those hilarious pranksters Milton and Wordsworth.) This year’s International Burns Nacht includes an extended comparison, beautifully performed in German and in translation, of the mighty Goethe. INTERNATIONAL BURNS NACHT SUPPER 2026. Attending:- Kathy Davies, John Davies, Susi Wiemer, Jürgen Wiemer, Melanie Calway, Gareth Calway. ORDER OF EVENTS Assemble at 6-00pm Music: Donald Where’s Your Troosers? To be sung very loudly by all over a Highland drone led by G. Highland jig optional to anyone wearing a kilt. Welcome (G) Toast to “The Reconvening of The Burns Nacht International Association “ (G) The Selkirk Grace (Susi) STARTER MAIN COURSE Cue… Music The Entrance of The Haggis (M) Address To The Haggis (G) HAGGIS, NEAPS and TATTIES… PUDDINGS CHEESE COURSE Tea/Coffee One page Speech/Toast To The Immortal Memory of Robert Burns (Jürgen) Move to soft play area. Burns and Goethe: a comparison (G, with contributions from Jürgen, Susi and John: Mephistopheles/trans – (Jürgen/G) Man Was Made to Mourn-J; §Gretchen’s Room/trans (S/M); My Love Is Like A Red Red Rose (M) Song: Will Ye Go Lassie Go (M & G and all join in on chorus) The Henpecked Husband (K) The Laddie’s Dear Sel’ (K) The Rights of Woman (Jürgen) On Maria (Susi) O Leave Novels (J) A Toast To The Lassies (J) A Toast To The Laddies (M) Song: Auld Lang Syne (M,G with sax solo by J and all join in) Music: As Time Goes By - Song /Solo (M)/ Duet (M&G)/ Trio (M, G & K)/ Quartet (M, G, K & S) Quintet ( M, G, K, S & Jü) - With haphazard accompaniment (J) Elegy For 2025 (J) Holy Willie’s Prayer? (G) Elspeth-Cross Furay (G) The Parting Glass (M) Eat, drink and be merry (throughout the evening). “LANG MAY YER LUM REEK!” LIKE POETRY, SOME ITEMS ( ALAS INCLUDING ALL OF DEAR KATHLEEN'S) WERE LOST IN TRANSLATION. BUT THEY WERE GREAT ON THE NACHT.

Amartithi Song 2

I think I prefer this version.

This is a love song for Meher Baba (1894-1969) . January 31 2026 is his 57th Amartithi (he 'died' on that date on 1969.) I wrote the words at the Meher Baba Pilgrim Centre in Meherabad, India in 1989. Aarti means devotional song and is derived from Sanskrit words for 'complete love'. Several beautiful Aartis are sung daily - an Australian Aarti; an American Aarti and a variety of Indian ones, the most beautiful of all the Gujarati aarti written and composed by Meher Baba himself. I wanted to write a British one, stuff upper lip and all that. I brought it home to Blighty and then forgot all about it.

I found the long forgotten lyric in a drawer of Baba papers last year and composed the music I had never been able to add in 1989 (Bob Brown explained how my original hummed effort was much too complicated) and accompanied myself on bass, singing low and then dubbing higher vocals, drums and harmonium.

Lyrics written in Merhabad India, 1989.
Music written last year.

lyrics

Chorus:
You tell me I please you
Because my heart's aching
To let your name Baba
Escape to my lips
Escape to my lips.

How is it you love me
So much for so little?
The bed of the valley
Is less stone than I.

No matter how far off
My life's stream meanders,
Your sea of compassion
Keeps drawing me hot.

Though gloomy impressions
Like mists would deny you,
Your sun's affirmation
Keeps making me sing.

Chorus:
You tell me I please you
Because my heart's aching
To let your name Baba
Escape to my lips
Escape to my lips.

Your beauty is blazing
Like mountain moons on me,
The snows of your silence
Wash all my dirt clean.

This forest so lonesome
I'm hacking to reach you,
Is full of birds singing
'He's closer than you!'

Ah why should I wonder
You give all for nothing?
Your glance is so lovely,
A steel heart would melt.

Chorus

My art is the craft of
A thundering river
Which acts to a pure sea
Of stillness, your name.

My heart I have mined for
Good words and intentions,
To burn off like incense
All faults in your flame.

Chorus.

credits

released January 31, 2026
Ghaz - vocals, bass, drums, harmonium.
Lyric © Gareth Calway 1989
Photo is of Avatar Meher Baba

license

Amartithi Song

Chorus: You tell me I please you Because my heart's aching To let your name Baba Escape to my lips Escape to my lips. How is it you love me So much for so little? The bed of the valley Is less stone than I. No matter how far off My life's stream meanders, Your sea of compassion Keeps drawing me hot. Though gloomy impressions Like mists would deny you, Your sun's affirmation Keeps making me sing. Chorus: You tell me I please you Because my heart's aching To let your name Baba Escape to my lips Escape to my lips. Your beauty is blazing Like mountain moons on me, The snows of your silence Wash all my dirt clean. This forest so lonesome I'm hacking to reach you, Is full of birds singing 'He's closer than you!' Ah why should I wonder You give all for nothing? Your glance is so lovely, A steel heart would melt. Chorus My art is the craft of A thundering river Which acts to a pure sea Of stillness, your name. My heart I have mined for Good words and intentions, To burn off like incense All faults in your flame. Chorus. This is a love song for God become man. January 31 2026 is the 57th Amartithi of Avatar Meher Baba who 'died' on that date on 1969. I wrote the words at the Meher Baba Pilgrim Centre in Meherabad, India in 1989. Aarti means devotional song and is derived from Sanskrit words for 'complete love'. Several beautiful Aartis are sung daily - an Australian Aarti; an American Aarti and a variety of Indian ones, the most beautiful of all the Gujarati aarti written and composed by Meher Baba himself. I wanted to write a British one, stuff upper lip and all that. I brought it home to Blighty and then forgot all about it. I found the long forgotten lyric in a drawer of Baba papers last year and composed the music I had never been able to add in 1989 (Bob Brown explained how my original hummed effort was much too complicated) and accompanied myself on bass, adding higher vocals, drums and harmonium. Lyrics written in Merhabad India, 1989. Music written last year.

Chorus:
You tell me I please you
Because my heart's aching
To let your name Baba
Escape to my lips
Escape to my lips.

How is it you love me
So much for so little?
The bed of the valley
Is less stone than I.

No matter how far off
My life's stream meanders,
Your sea of compassion
Keeps drawing me hot.

Though gloomy impressions
Like mists would deny you,
Your sun's affirmation
Keeps making me sing.

Chorus:
You tell me I please you
Because my heart's aching
To let your name Baba
Escape to my lips
Escape to my lips.

Your beauty is blazing
Like mountain moons on me,
The snows of your silence
Wash all my dirt clean.

This forest so lonesome
I'm hacking to reach you,
Is full of birds singing
'He's closer than you!'

Ah why should I wonder
You give all for nothing?
Your glance is so lovely,
A steel heart would melt.

Chorus

My art is the craft of
A thundering river
Which acts to a pure sea
Of stillness, your name.

My heart I have mined for
Good words and intentions,
To burn off like incense
All faults in your flame.

Chorus.

I wrote the words at the Meher Baba Pilgrim Centre in Meherabad, India in 1989. Aarti means devotional song and is derived from Sanskrit words for 'complete love'. Several beautiful Aartis are sung daily - an Australian Aarti; an American Aarti and a variety of Indian ones, the most beautiful of all the Gujarati aarti written and composed by Meher Baba himself. Despite some every eligible candidates (Pete Townshend and Ronnie Laine for example) there is not an English or British aarti. I was for almost two weeks a lone Englishman and because of my regular ghazal readings at the morning and evening songs and prayers was nicknamed 'Arty' by one of the fifty Americans who outnumbered the Indian devotees and staff residing or on pilgrimage there. I played up to my role as the lone stage Englishman and so did everyone else. Sometime in the second week, one of the old Parsi followers comically 'exposed ' me as 'a Welshman in disguise' which all added to my reputation as 'quite the clown... and composer' (as Baba's niece, Meheru, the woman I am pictured with under Baba's picture in the final frame put it.) All of these elements combine in my attempt at an Aarti uttered from the British stiff upper lip. I found the long forgotten lyric in a drawer of Baba papers and composed the music I had never been able to add in 1989 (Bob Brown explained how my original hummed effort was much too complicated) and accompanied myself on bass, adding a higher vocal, drums and harmonium.

Marie Mouri

Chere 'tit zozo quoi t'apre fe?
T'apre sauter, t'apre chanter
To pas connais n'a p'us Marie
Marie mouri, Marie mouri

'Tit z-herbe tout vert, 'tit z-herbe tout moux
Faut p'us to fais un lit pou nous
To pas connais n'a p'us Marie
Marie mouri, Marie mouri

Quand jou vini n'a p'u soleil
Quand nuit vini n'a pas sommeil
Quand monde content mo p'us ca ri
Marie mouri, Marie mouri