HEAVEN IN A WILDFLOWER
The unearthly
music echoed around. In the uncertain light of twilight, it seemed as if the
gods themselves had paused to listen, so beautiful were the notes.
“She’s
playing the piano again!” breathed Namita, rapturously. Her voice betrayed the
reverence she felt for the soulful music, and the musician, Ujwala.
A proficient piano player, Ujwala had performed
across the country. Music aficionados flocked to her recitals in hordes. There
was magic in her fingers, as they flashed over the keys, hovering over them so softly that the music could hardly be heard. Heartbeats would slow,
and people would hold their breaths, till the next moment, her fingers would race
across, creating chords that crashed and billowed like the waves of the sea.
When Ujwala played the piano, it was as if nothing else existed for her… such
was her passion for her beloved instrument.
However, after
her beloved husband passed away, she had locked away the piano along with the
love in her heart. He had been the wind beneath her wings, as the song went.
Vikrant, the dashing young Air Force pilot, who flew his planes with the same
exuberance as his wife played the piano. They were known as the legendary
couple, the eternal lovers whose love could make the very gods envious.
That fateful morning,
Vikrant had given Ujwala a bear hug.
“When I get
back, we will celebrate our anniversary in style,” he laughed.
“Our
anniversary is only next week!” she had protested, smiling at his enthusiasm.
“We will celebrate
next week as well,” was his rejoinder.
That day, Vikrant’s
plane developed some engine trouble and he struggled in the lone blue skies.
His last thought, as he crash-landed, was of his beautiful wife and of how they
would never celebrate their anniversary again.
For Ujwala, it was the end of the world. The world which had seemed so full of happiness that very morning had turned bereft, as she teetered at the edge of it, wishing that she too could join her beloved Vikrant. Her family and her friends milled around her, trying to offer her solace, but the light had gone out of her soul. The piano lay untouched, gathering dust as its mistress refused to even look at it.
“Ujwala, we
long to hear you play again,” pleaded her friends. She had shaken her head, a tear
sliding down her cheek. The music that had kept her going for so long had left her
along with Vikrant. It seemed a kind of betrayal to play the piano, to experience
any joy in life at all. She shut herself away from the world that had idolized
her and her talent.
Two years flew
by, but no music had echoed in the cottage. Till today.
Her neighbours
flocked to her door, their hearts alive with anticipation. To their surprise,
Ujwala was the one who welcomed them in as the music played on.
“Who is the
magical artiste?” asked Namita, surprised.
Ujwala led them in. Her face glowed with a happiness that they had not seen on it for ages. They tip-toed in, gazing at the delicate girl whose long fingers tripped across the keys in abandon. The music filled their hearts with joy as it tripped along gaily. It finally reached a crescendo, dying away on a soft note that was as poignant as the peal of a melodious bell. There was silence for a moment, followed by applause.
“This is like finding Heaven in a wildflower!” remarked Annie, the poetic one.
“Naina!”
called Ujwala softly.
The music
ceased; the young girl turned, smiling.
“How well you
play!” Annie said spontaneously. The others moved closer, and suddenly stopped.
Naina smiled as she looked towards them. Ujwala placed an arm around the girl’s
slender shoulders, as she guided her towards them.
Shocked, they
gazed at Naina’s beautiful, but sightless, eyes.
This post is part of #BlogchatterHalfMarathon.
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