Monthly Archives: October 2012

The Pianist


I wrote this sometime last year. It is about how music is much like life, temporary, beautiful and rich in experience.


The ivories awaited him

He sat in solitude,

Eyes shut,


No sound,



His frail body arched forward,

Feet firm on the floor

Face accumulative of wrinkles,

Arms dangling in stillness,

Hands poised and ready



One note sounded

Then another,

He escaped,

Hymns echoed through the abbey,

Startling steps pounded slowly,



Rapid passages chased each other,

Giggles rubbed against chatter,

Waves lapped in laugher,

Birds jubilate in vigor,

Flying freely and discovering,



Loud whispers swell in the forest,

Impudent thoughts resonate through the woods,

Intimacy in its infancy,

Coupled with crimes of persuasion

Complications in communication,



Two flames tangoed to the coloured sounds,

Consuming each other’s warmth

Twisting to become singular,

Mutually moving,

Tenderly clutching, embracing in bliss,

Jovial tones fill the atmosphere



The sun kissed the sea,

Tranquillity nested in the air,

Twilight came and darkened the surrounds,

Shadows hauntingly departed,

Calm rested through the shoreline,





I wonder sometimes, I wonder about how your voice would sound like after all these years. I wonder if you’d approve of me by now. Successful, in the arts world, writing music, getting tons of money from it, teaching music to children and undergraduates, doing everything that you pretty much despised.

You wanted me to be a doctor. You made the rule in the house simple – “NO ARTS, NOTHING UNDER ARTS” was ever acceptable, to you it was science… science moved the world forward, science was the reason why we were able to eradicate small pox from the world. I argued with you, almost every other night about how rock music made big bold political statements, about how arts encourages creativity and creativity is the reason why we were able to conceptualise gravity. I talked for hours and presented academic papers to you, telling you about how playing an instrument is good for cognition and imagination. I questioned things with you and I asked you “what is the point of a sunset? What is the point of living when we are all going to die? Music was and is not ever necessary for survival, but it makes survival worth it. It enriches life.” Idealistic, I know. Your stubbornness was frustrating but it taught me that I could never change you.

When I was younger, people always told me that I needed to work really hard to prove to you that you were wrong. People told me to give it a few decades, to let money and ‘success’ prove to you that I was able to make a living in this world.

If you were still around, maybe you’d laugh, maybe you’d apologise, maybe you’d say you were wrong. Or maybe you’d tell me again that I’m selfish because I don’t give a damn about developing a cure for cancer. I don’t know.

I was there when your head rested. I was there when you were close to your eternal slumber. I wrote your eulogy and recited it at your funeral. I cried for you. I sang a song for you, my voice echoed through the abbey and made other people cry.  All you did was shoot my dreams down and toss me money every so often. You really did a bad job as a parent… or maybe I expected too much from you. I don’t know.

After all these years, in spite of the ‘success’ I’ve earned… the last thing I want to do is show you how great I am. No, that would be too juvenile. I just want you to know I love you… I know you tried, I know your best was not really the best, but you tried and I suppose … when you are gone and buried, I can’t bear a grudge against you anymore. So, I forgive you.