Rush of cold wind pounds heavily on the glass window creating silent noises; the creaking of the dilapidated door, the rustling leaves, the tranquil sound of wind chimes and howls from stray cats. The fusion of these sounds reminds me of a lost tune, melody and lyrics which kept on playing round my mind albeit so soft and low like the sound of a breath. The song which left me imagining about the beauty of a sunset, the smell of moistened hay in the morning, the tiny ripples in the river caused by the breeze coming from the north.
You’re lying in that small hut. Tired and exhausted by the day’s work. You feel the cold wind enter the little openings on the wall soothe your burned skin. The night is silent and you could see the crescent moon and wonder if you could really sit on its tail and fish stars. A blurred sound comes out from an old radio. You could barely hear and decipher the lyrics but the melody resounded a deep thought that crossed boundaries. It broke your heart. A teardrop for a barren and void feeling flowed through the temple into the ear.
The song is being sung by the cold wind. I have just finished reading
“Music is a demanding mistress. You can’t abandon her for four years. When you return to her, you find she’s gone.”
. . .Like a passing glint of a coin submerging in a murky water as it catches the last rays of light? Still, I said to myself that I will be her lover forever even in absence; even in abandonment.
When I was a little child I remember asking my grandmother about a virtuoso she’d known.
“What had happened with your uncle’s violin?”
“It was sold after he got sick and nothing could be spent for his medication. It was the saddest part. To let go of something which became a part of his life.”
“Could we still find it and buy it back?”
“Of course my child, but not now.”
"I have few pesos here. Would this be enough?
A smile made her eyes glitter for a moment.
"If it could only be that easy my child. But, you could always wish for it if you want."