Saturday 17 November 2012

The Accompanist...32nd post...:)


Every day I go there and sit;
Every day I go there and play;
Every day I go there and revisit my life;
Every day I create moments there;
And every day there I die…
                                                   --From the diary of an Accompanist…

Every beautiful morning he woke up with melodies in mind and memories in heart; pre-requisite for delivering best of music… (melody dipped in emotion…)
He was a man. He used to carry his six string instrument; people called him musician; his employer called him worker; but he was an Accompanist. He accompanied everyone who so ever came to the motel where he worked. The motel with 6 tables, 12 chairs and a big rotating chandelier spreading light from its tiny holes…
He played music there from 3 in evening to 1 in morning. He played songs from his lovely childhood and he played music from his faded youth… In Motel under the rotating chandelier he saw many relations break and new form. He played accordingly (he was an accompanist and he accompanied everyone…) he played for happy kids and he played for abrasive drunkard…
The day he was born his father said “A great Musician is born…”. His brought up was apparent to the statement… He travelled and learnt music; he travelled through hills, plateaus and forests to learn the Music of Nature…
When he used to perform; there used to be a gang of girls in red, blue, green, purple and in orange tops sitting with crossed legs; cheering and chanting his name…
But he was not born to entertain girls on stage and collect cheque backstage …
He was born for touching lives and inspiring minds with his music…
He inspired many minds to travel and learn music. His music made people fall in love with each other and his music made many a moment beautiful…
And then there came a day,
He woke up with melodies in mind, memories in heart and frenzy in eyes…
That day again he played from 3 in evening to 1 in morning; he played the best music of his life; he played the softest and the toughest note with ease; he played it loud and he played it slow; he sang it louder and expressed even more ecstatically…
At last he stood and said:-
                             “Life Is A Music Play It Loud…”
And collapsed…
Someone from the crowd said “A Great Musician Died Today…”



Thursday 1 November 2012

She Shouts...31st Post...


In front she stands with a marker and a duster;
Spewing something about templates;
She shouts “waking me up from an inevitable nap”….She shouts…
She enters in class “no one stands” she shouts…
She shouts whenever her words go un-heard in a long long time…
“We laugh when she fails” and she shouts…


She interrogates and shouts as no one co-operates…
She shouts every time we whisper;
Every time we are Numb, she shouts…
She shouts in agony whenever we embrace friendship,
She shouts showing her abhorrence towards frenzy classroom stint…
She shouts feigning but we remain nonchalant,
 given we know “this moment is Fleet and soon will be treasured memories”…


Dedicated to all Students who enjoy their Classroom and To all Faculties who stand with a Duster and a Marker…