Saturday, June 27, 2009

Sing us a song, you're the Piano Man

Those were Sunday morning I never thought I'd fondly recall. I was 9. Wake up in the morning. Tensed and terrified about unfinished piano lessons and the looming fear of scoldings of a balding teacher. Sunday morning cartoons and loochi aloor torkari were a luxury I wished I could afford. The bus journeys with the father to Deodar Street on Ballygunj Circular Road...walking past the huge Deodar Mansions (a housing complex stands in its place now), past the narrow lane of phuchkawallahs drying phuchkas in the sun in wicker baskets...to the house of the piano teacher. He had an upright piano. I would have to wait in queue for my turn while other students played and got scolded in the rightful order and sometimes in conjunction. When my turn would come, I would play the previous day's lessons carefully (and fearfully) until the teacher would give me my new sheet of music- the lesson for the next day. Somewhere along on those dreaded Sunday mornings of my childhood I had loved the piano. Touching a piano still gives me goosebumps. A piano is not an instrument for me. It is my entire childhood (and teenage) longings crumpled together. Something that I have wanted to have for most of my life always half knowing I could possibly not afford to. Or do justice to.

And if things go right, tomorrow, I will have a Grand Piano. Yes. The one with a wooden shade and all. I am not quite in a position to talk about it.

4 comments:

  1. oh, yeah. i'm so happy for you man... seriously.... im jumping about because ur getting a piano.

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  2. I recently came across your blog and have been reading along. I thought I would leave my first comment. I dont know what to say except that I have enjoyed reading. Nice blog. I will keep visiting this blog very often.


    Barbara

    http://keyboardpiano.net

    ReplyDelete
  3. Generally I do not post on blogs, but I would like to say that this post really forced me to do so! really nice post.

    rH3uYcBX

    ReplyDelete
  4. There lies an ocean somewhere inside by beating organ where the lust to exceed your flair keeps me awake all night and binds me to go through your posts critically though i am an ember and you my brother are the "inferno"
    Acolyte of Borat(if you dont mind,that is)

    ReplyDelete