Music of the Unknown

The strings of the violin

I hear for years

.Whenever the sound echoes, around the verandah,

On a moonlit night, in the beaming, bright morning...

I go out, out to the streets

.Searching for the sound.

Searching for the Soul, the magic roots of Life...

All by lanes seem to vibrate, the rhythm of ecstasy, the call of the Almighty..

I do not get to the destination.

The search continues...

Paul who stays on the platform, at the back of my house, follows me to hear the sound...

To see the strings of the violin...The man and his violin...

The slow movements of the chords, the chirping of the birds, singsong of the raindrops, footsteps of the sprinting children.

We move as we get drenched...We moved towards the sound...

Close and far away, faded tunes...

The chords strike faster, as the number will come to an end... 

We move faster, closer,

The sound was coming just, from the next door may be...

Tried to move close and closer...

The train passes by with a rumbling sound...

We look at the train crossing, till it gets out of the vision....

The resonance of violin  is no more in the air...