— Indu KS
In a dark alley by the busy street stood a musician tall and confident, playing his violin, a melancholic melody which resonated through the walls across and faded into oblivion by the time it reached the main street.
There he stood tall and fierce playing his instrument and determined not to flinch come what may. He closed his eyes as if to conceal the chaos of emotions he was feeling, his mouth curled up to show an indescribable grit and his fingers moving through the chords with grace unmatched.
He was playing not for the people on the streets or for the money but for music itself. He stood there all afternoon playing for no one and everyone all at once.
All his sadness came out of his instrument in the form of a sweet sad melody. All the stray animals fell silent for some time; it was like a small little peaceful bubble in time.
Two meters from the alley lived a homeless man who was contemplating suicide, he was fed up with the ugliness of the world and he felt suffocated by the unbearable sadness of his life.
He was just about to cut his veins when he heard a faint melody nearby. Curiosity got the better of him and he walked up to see the person who was playing the melody.
He saw a man in a faded trench coat with his eyes closed and tears rolling down his cheek playing his violin fiercely as if to summon the gods below.
He sat in the corner with his back resting on one of the trash bins and closed his eyes listening to the melody. His dog, a stray which he pet, came up to him and curled up in his lap.
The musician oblivious to his surroundings continued playing.
The homeless man closed his eyes and immersed himself in the beautiful sad melody that is being played.
His memories went back to the time when his mother was alive and happy and most importantly not sick. He saw her smiling at him with her beautiful smile and he saw his 10 year old self running into her for a hug.
The memories flew in like water from a burst out tank. All at once, leaving him breathless.
He saw his father beating his mother, and he saw his little brother curled up in the corner of the room terrified and crying.
Next he saw his brother lowered into the ground in a small wooden coffin, he saw his mom crying her heart out for her little son, and he saw his father standing a little feet away drinking from his little flask with no emotion.
He saw his mom getting sicker by the day… he remembered beating up his father when he tried to take his mother’s wedding ring from her cold lifeless body, and he saw himself locked up in a cell for beating his father to death.
He remembered all of his prison days and the hardships he faced, a tear rolled down his cheek. He remembered how he never gave up even when life became unbearable to live, he remembered how he endured all his hardships, how he continued to fight even if he knew he’d never win, he remembered how he chose to live in spite of all the suffering and he decided that he would give life another shot.
When he opened his eyes he saw the musician still playing his violin, he stood like a rock in a river.
He took out few coins and fished out a waste newspaper from the bin and wrote Thanks for saving my life and placed it in the violin box and went away, to start a new life with a new found hope.
When the musician went home and found the note saying Thanks for saving my life tears rolled down his cheek, he was happy beyond words, he made an impact on someone’s life. That’s what music supposed to do isn’t it?
He tore out all the rejection letters hanging from his bed side wall and pasted the note the homeless man gave him and started composing a new melody.
He named it “A new start”