The Music in Life

Classical music is something very close to my heart. Neither am I a singer nor can I even actually enjoy it. But it is a very nostalgic thing to me. It reminds me of the ‘horrific’ music classes I was forced to attend, the ‘rich’ family where most relatives have got something to do with music and all those dreadful Navaratri days when I was forced to sing at random homes. Most of my painful associations with music came to a stop ever since I passed on the baton to my sister. The only difference perhaps is that she actually sings. There was a time in life where I was very choosy about the genres of music. Over time, I’ve begun to realize music is all that matters, no matter the genre. I now listen to very random tunes and enjoy the presence of music in life. I’m no longer searching for the music of my life, but merely bobbing my head and tapping my toes to every tune that flows by. Life is so beautiful when you discover the music in it. Wavy and fluid.

The Clich├ęd

Withering flowers and the fallen leaves

Do they think life ends there?

Kissing the soil and hugging the ground,

Do they relish a new beginning?

The flowing river and merging flows,

Do they finish the journey at the sea?

Meeting new friends and exploring new levels,

Do they begin their endless trail?

Beauty in nature and peace in life,

Do poets preach what they’ve seen and felt?

Lost in the crowd and unheard in the chaos,

Do they yearn for the unknown?

Why do poets sing of trees, and flowers, and rivers, and the Sun and the rain?

Why do they say what’s been said,

Why do they see what’s been seen,

Why do they want what’s never there!