Musei - The Unvoiced

The blood dropped from her pinna onto her shirt, turning it garnet. She looked at the one who had done it. He held her hearing aid with an imbecilic grin and then made his way towards her and opened her clenched right fist, effortlessly overcoming her meek resistance. He placed the hearing aid on her palm and turned away. She immediately raised her clenched fist but retrieved it. After all, it was impossible to stand up against him, being as anemic as she was. With her vision clouded by tears, she went down on her knees.

The next day, no one noticed her absence at school, except for him. He just hoped that the injury was nothing serious. He had even returned her interesting little machine back. There was no reason for everyone to get to know, right? Besides, he had just wanted to play with the weird machine and had not meant to hurt her. Nevertheless, he decided to pen it down, just in case.

On Thursday, as she made her way to her place in the lifeless corner of the classroom, she noticed the rare absence of insults drawn on her table - usually covered with them. Surprised, her eyes fell on a note. She opened it and her eyes skimmed the content before she threw it into the dustbin.

She tried to forget the incident and the letter. But plainly, she couldn't. The letter was a justification for his action. He had apologized and yet insulted her. "... You can get me suspended. But obviously you will not, being the deaf fool you are… "

Those words reverberated in her mind. So, in the afternoon, she made her way to e-block, the one place she had always avoided until then. She pushed the door of the music room open when he looked up, unable to recognise her. Before she could regret it, she began, " I Lilly wanna play the dlums" in her nasal voice, her hazel eyes sparkling with innocent hope. The teacher nodded and ask her to come in. But he grew speechless when he noticed her hearing aid. She had anticipated this and blurted out, " Es, uh kno. Am def. I cahn spee poppuhly. Buh I lilly wanna, please", her chocolate hair covering her misty eyes.

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It had been 2 weeks since then, and she had been sensing the growing hopelessness on the teacher's face. Of course, he never voiced it, - because she worked hard - but she knew it and so had skipped classes for 4 days. He had contacted her everyday and this made her feel guilty. Only her pillow knew about all the frustration she had shed.

Mama had noticed this.

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Both sat on her freshly made bed. The room was clean, yet it lacked life. The plastered walls reflected the gloom in the air. Mama opened her mouth to talk, but stopped at her tears. She pulled her closer and after some time, began with her lullaby. She couldn't feel the vibrations anymore. She used to hear the lullaby while playing tag, but now the silence made her gag. "You used to play the rhythm and sing along. Don't you want to continue to make people happy through your music?" said Mama.

"I can't! I'm a failure. Society always throws away people like me. We're meant to be outcasts. But why me? What have I done to deserve"

"From the greatest depths of oppression and failure are the greatest characters forged. Loneliness, rejection, and failure are not your enemy but your teacher. I know your hearing's growing worse. But that doesn't stop you from who you want to become. Believe" Mama said and kissed her hand.

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"Yes. You're getting into the groove" said Mr. Robert. Her practice sessions were now more fruitful and she felt at home whenever she surrounded herself with the rhythm. But she still couldn't believe she had cracked the Royal Music Academy entrance and had made it to the final hurdle: a decisive round before the finish line of the beginning of her musical expedition.

She snapped back into training as Mr. Robert touched the statuesque biceps she had built over the last 5 years of tedious training, signalling her to continue her rehearsal.

Working day and night towards excellence, she had grown to become physically, mentally and emotionally stronger; to push through all the hate spewed at her, and to overcome the lack of her physical strength and technique. 

"A marvellous job is done! Now, look up", he said. As she did so, she saw words written with thick rainbow coloured pens on the ceiling: 'Today is where your book begins. The rest is still unwritten.' Mr Robert looked at her with the satisfaction of a man who had created a masterpiece as her eyes shimmered in new-found happiness. 

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The day was here. She had felt the vibrations of all the vehicles that had passed by her on her way to the academy's campus."Cheer up" she told herself as she walked down the corridor, her legs shaking, trying not to fall.

She waited with bated breath. Everyone else had gone before her, even the ones who came after her. She had kept quiet about it, but was now growing impatient. Finally, after an excruciating 5 hour wait, she was called in.

"Hello, miss Wanda" said a plump, cheerful lady. But the moment she noticed her ears, her blue eyes grew doubtful. Wanda noticed this but began by tuning the drums, completely ignoring her. However, they were so off pitch that the lady said, "Are you sure you can… perform, my dear? Can you hear me?". Hiding her growing agitation, Wanda smiled and nodded to say she was ready. With a deep inhale, she poised her sticks, ready to blow the judge away. 

She began by making subtle sounds on the edges of the drums and slowly made her way to the centre, it getting louder and bolder. The sweat beads slowly formed on her forehead and made their way to her jaws. Her back was completely wet and her throat felt dry. But she never stopped. The atmosphere was humid and she breathed hard, but her mind was clear. She was channeling all those years of grief, insult and helplessness; of all those tiny moments of gratification; and all the anger built up inside, into her music. 

She weaved her way from expressing the feelings of doubt to the determination to anger and passion. The sounds were so subtle and yet so powerful.

Entranced throughout the performance, she snapped back to reality as Wanda stopped mid-air, ending the seemingly abrupt but perfect performance. Looking at the dumbfounded lady in the eyes, Wanda smiled. Still gobsmacked, the lady whispered, "May the Lord bless you and your music" as Wanda made her way outside.       

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Two days had passed since those dramatic 48 straight minutes of play. She remembered when once such a practice would cause blisters on her palms and make her arms feel sore. But that was all in the past. She felt accomplished and yet humbled, looking back at the long way she had come from being a timid, pessimistic crybaby to a realistic opportunist.

Just then, she received a phone call from Mr. Robert. His ecstatic silence told it all. She smiled with gratitude, confidence coursing through her veins. The words crystal clear, she said, "Here is to a new beginning"