Singing the heart out

As much as i relish being in the spotlight, the introvert within me still finds it extremely hard to build up that confidence. A million incoherent thoughts race through my head and the reality manages to fade to the backdrop. Life doesn’t pause. I wish it did. It only hastens. The time to perform comes faster by the minute. The moment of truth. The part where i cannot go wrong. Even after multiple flawless practices, the fears always manage to creep in.

Restlessly, i stroll around. Finding one place to sit, before deciding on abandoning it for another. Paranoid about my stuffy nose making me sound weird, some intense runs to the bathroom take place. My face wouldn’t show a glimpse of the turmoil inside as i look at it in there. Good. Better in than out. Couple of deep breaths, a sip of water to ease my rusty aching throat, and a few steps later, i find myself in front of them all. I had this little speech prepared in my head about the amazing singers of these songs. But it was drowned out as soon as my mouth opened. As i tried to figure out the first words, my hands went on autopilot, forcing me to keep up with their frantic pace.

(Here is the entire performance)

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A guitar’s perspective – 1

Hi. You guys have probably heard me. I am a simple guy. Not too shabby and not even a little exorbitant. Rest of my brethren are actually making quite a name for themselves. The title probably took all the fun out of the ‘mystery’ of who I am, right? Anyways, I am a Guitar. Dark complexion. Slightly on the chubby side. Singer by profession. Little older than 7 human years. That is more or less 35 in guitar years.

Now enough about me. Lets talk about my most prized possession, my eccentric and quiet 18 year old human. So much to say about him. After all, he has been with me for almost all my life! Imagine that. We met in the shop. He was just a little taller than I was. And boy did I give him a hard time. I never did what he wanted me to do. Even bit him on the finger tips! Why shouldn’t I? He doesn’t own me. He couldn’t even keep me in tune. How can someone sing well without being in tune? That’s so bad on the ears.

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Free

It was an early summer morning. Enthusiastic chirping simply brought some life into the deserted station. There was the occasional hum of tractors that could be heard at a distance, barely audible in the cacophony of his thoughts. He had just arrived there last night carrying three things with him. A small backpack, a gleeful smile, and a new way to look at life.

This was an unplanned trip, just like his breakdown was. It was a journey on the inside as much as it was outside. That was the magic he had witnessed. As things around him moved, things within moved too. He wondered when the next train would arrive as the rising sun brought a wide grin to his face. There was always something spiritual about the silent cogs of nature.

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