If music be the food of love, play on.
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| www.hypnotherapists.org.uk |
The words rankled in her
mind and painfully clutched at her heart. She quickly started the engine and
put the car into gear. She couldn’t stop his voice from echoing in her head. He used to quote Shakespeare whenever she asked him if her #music bothered him.
“You know, my parents used to get fed up of my constant playing. From the guitar to the harmonium to the violin, I would try my hand at everything. And when you don’t know how to play something, the #music that results is just plain horrid! I remember my parents would shout and protest about my unearthly practice timings- sometimes at the crack of dawn and at times, in the deepest nights and then finally beg me to stop.”
Saying so, she would
start giggling and he would pull her close to him, take her hands and kiss her
fingers one by one.
“You can play as much as
you like, as badly or as well as you like,” he would say, making her heart leap
like a frog out of a well.
“You haven’t heard me practice, you have only heard me sing. When I practice, I practically bray.”
“Your voice is #music to me. And if #music be the food of love, play on.” That is when he would quote the Bard.
It had been two years, a mere two years since they had met and known each other. It didn’t take them much time to realize that it was a forever thing. And it was during that period that her #music had jumped up many levels. It is often heard that when in love, the art and the #music in you takes a boost and suddenly, life attains a rosier tint. That is how her passion had seen refinement and she had come up with one of her best pieces that had helped her bag her first contract.
Life seemed as if it had
finally fallen into place. He was sure that she would make her mark as a great
singer in the playback industry.
And that very day, she saw it. Parked in front of her house was a sleek and shiny thing. The #Zica stood there, proud and modish, cute and classy. She had squealed at the sight.
“Oh my God! What is
this?”
“It’s yours,” he had said simply, handing her the keys.
“You are such a total blockhead! You don’t seriously mean it! It is not even my birthday!” she had cried, thrilled and disbelieving at the same time.
“It’s a big day and you always wanted a car. Now go ahead and drive!”
Thoroughly moved and pleasantly surprised, she got into the sleek and zippy #Tata #Zica that stood stylishly in front of them.
The breeze had never felt sweeter as she drove the #Zica all over the city, loving the feel of the steel beneath her feet, the smoothness of the steering, the plush seat hugging her back. She felt as if she was a five-year-old who had been given a free permit to an amusement park. Instinctively, she had landed a kiss on his cheeks drawing stares from the traffic police at a red light.
But then it is probably life’s purpose to remind us that forever is just a delusion.
And so like a flash of lightning, it had happened. When the news of the plane crash reached her, she had dismissed it. It took her a week to accept that her fiance had been in the plane.
All of a sudden, she
found that she was alone. He had gone. Left her as suddenly as he had come into
her life. The dream life, she had just gotten used to, had shattered like a
million shards of glass. She had been left stranded, bereft, completely alone.
Without him, she felt like a cipher.
Since then, a mad
restlessness had caught hold of her. She could think of nothing but
him. All through the subsequent days, she could do nothing but drive madly on
ahead. The #Zica felt like the only
connection to him- his gift, his love.
The #Zica moved to her commands while her mind followed a path of its
own, her eyes raining tears. She let the winds whip her hair into a mess. She
let the speed go up to 120. She could hold it no longer, she had to let it
loose. His words rang on in her head. Her lips began to move of their own
accord, words issuing forth, words buried deep within her, #music trapped in the
confines of her being. The notes of her grief rang loud and clear, trying to
drown his voice in her head.
She parked the car at a
spot they used to visit together. Opening the door, she let her legs dangle out
of her seat and began to strum the guitar. For many hours, she played and sang, the #Zica her sole companion in her
solitude.
Her second contract came a few months later. The #music went viral. But she had lost all sense of ambition. All she now cared for was the car that remained a symbol of their love and all the memories of him that had accrued during their happy times together. Now it was just her, the #music and the #Zica, wallowing in his memories.
#TataZica #Music #FantasticoZica #TataZicaMarathon
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