I pick up my violin and start tuning the strings. The sound had resonated in my ears for so many times, I can easily tune just by listening. There, I’m done. And I start to play, bringing the fiddlestick over the thin strings stretched along the neck of the violin, pushing it up and pulling it down, gently. Moonlight Sonata.
There’s this girl, dark-haired, dark round
eyes, a fair and sweet complexion, sitting in the corner. She hangs around
sometimes in the evenings when I practice, listening to me bringing life to
this melody, giving it a voice. Nella
Fantasia.
I chanced upon a conversation with her one
day, for she came too early and I had not started practice yet. It was she who
came to me first. She asked me a lot of questions, such as what other instruments
could I play, since what age did I start playing them, and why did I love to
play the violin so much? To be honest, I was annoyed and uncomfortable because
those answers she demanded from me were too personal to me. I have the right to
have a little privacy, and she was trying to invade all that. I wished she
would go away, so I sat by the grand piano in the practice room and let my
fingers dance on the keys. She took her place at the corner of the room and, as
she always does, listened attentively. Comptine
D’un Autre ete - Amelie.
She handed towards me a piece of music
sheet. I looked towards her questioningly, and she gave me a sweet, meaningful
smile. “Can you play this?” she asked kindly. The title written on top was “Sang Uh Reul Sarang Han In Uh”, and the
composer name was not stated.
“It’s an OST of my favourite Korean drama. I
kept this sheet for so long but I forgot who sung this, or wrote it. Can you
play this please, with your violin?”
I looked at her and returned the sheets. I
told her I only played classical music, and that I was practicing for a
recital, so I could not help grant her request for the time being. I did not
forget to say sorry, but she seemed utterly disappointed with it. Her smile was
different afterwards, said thank you and bade goodbye, and did not return to
the corner where she usually sat to listen to me. I felt a little guilty, but
picked up my violin and fiddlestick nonetheless, and started to string. Moonlight Sonata.
I stare towards my beloved violin, but nothing.
Nothing at all. Empty. I picked it up so many times but I could not play a
thing. I end up being frustrated all the same. I felt this once, or twice, and
I clearly remember why. The first was when my mother died, and that was six
years ago. I recollected myself since then and found my new spirit in music,
but two years later my first love left me and that gave me the deepest heartbreak
of my life. I almost gave up doing music then, but a miracle happened and
brought me back up again. I continued with a new strength and a fresh start,
devoted to forget the past and start anew, now this. What is this? Why?
I came to the practice room late one evening
after a week of absence. I went to my father’s hometown to visit my grandpa at
his farm. That had helped clear my mind a bit. I walk towards the grand piano
and found a piece of music sheet lying on top of it. I picked it up and down
fell a piece of paper. It was a note with a nice slanted handwriting.
This is one good
classical piece I like. Can you play this instead? -Aya-
Was what it said. To be honest, the first
person that flashed into my mind was that girl. It couldn’t be anybody else.
She had stopped visiting me in the practice room since I declined to play the
song she gave me, and that was two weeks ago. I read the title written on top
of the music sheet “Beethoven – Love
Story” and immediately recognized the song. I didn’t have to think twice,
sat by the piano and left the rest to the creativity of my fingers. Love Story.
Maybe it was curiosity, I was not sure, but
I searched up the song Aya first told me to play the other day. I was surprised
I managed to remember the title somehow, because I didn’t understand it and I
usually don’t remember things that I don’t understand. I listened to it carefully.
Well not really, I was kind of sceptical at first, but then I listened
carefully. It was a modern song of course, with modern music and beats, but I
had to admit it was quite a good one. After listening to it for a few times, I
couldn’t help but pick up my violin, close my eyes, and strung away. No sheets,
just instinct. Sang Uh Reul Sarang Han In
Uh.
I had been listening to the song all night
and carefully playing it by ears on my violin when I finally managed to finish
a sheet music of the song with my own arrangements. I returned to the practice
room the day after to continue practicing and polishing up some parts of the
song, when Aya came in through the door of the practice room, looking a bit
surprised. She approached me when I finished, and gave me that sweet,
meaningful smile. Of course, I had to answer a bundle of questions from her
afterwards, such as “I thought you didn’t like modern music?” and “Have you
ever written your own composition?” and finally “It’s unfair. You know my name
but I don’t know yours. What should I call you?” but I, surprisingly, didn’t
mind anymore. “I’m Gale.” I told her, and answered everything that she demanded
to know. I also asked her the meaning of the Korean song that she liked so
much. “The Mermaid Who Loved a Shark.” She gladly told me, and I slightly
raised an eyebrow. I did not expect that.
She didn’t forget the second music sheet she
gave me, and asked if I found it and the note that she had placed on the grand
piano. I told her I was too familiar with that piece. I adore Beethoven’s music
more than anything, so I played that for her too, on the grand piano. Love Story.
-fin-
No comments:
Post a Comment