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The Untold story of a Sitar 2A  of 3


I was thinking
That during that long span of time 
The Sitar would have lost 
The remaining knobs and strings 
One by one 	
Which control and inspires
The musical instruments to produce
The sound of music
To sooth or to fill with happiness
In some sad and forlorn hearts.   14

Sometimes while sitting 
In a solitary place 
To forget and or to remember
Those precious memorable lovely moments
Which burns 
In every adoring heart
Filled with love
Or over flowing
With the passions and pains of life.   15
.
It is these moments only 
Which often get converted 
In an immortal tune or a Song
In the hands of a great lyricist and musician
When he or she transforms those feelings
While playing a Sitar or a Piano
Or a flute with a Guitar or a Sarod
While composing some heart touching
Lofty notes
And while creating a Song
Which motivates us feel for a moment
The joy of love 
Or the feeling of God.  16
.
Bringing that lost sound back 
To produce 
Some lofty music again
Was not that easy 
As I had imagined
It was like giving a new life 
To a badly injured soldier
Who got badly injured in the battle of life
Where no one cares 
For others 
Except for own
In the jungle of ongoing daily war
And here was an injured soldier
To whom no one had cared
In the last many years 
Rather in the last many decades
And no one had asked
Who and how it was? 17
.
Remembering that old broken Sitar
And touching the rejuvenated  
Body of the new Sitar lying before me
Was creating a sensational feeling
In my heart
And I was lost for a while
Like I was in arms of a sweet nap 
And was watching a pleasant dream.     18
.
Perhaps that was the beauty 
Of the name “Tan”
That I felt as if I was watching
A beautiful young musician 
Sitting on a Dias 
And playing the same Sitar
Which I posses as mine now.  19 
.
Her beauty dazzled my eyes 
For a while
Was she a human 
Or a fairy from the Heaven?
Was the dominating thought
Hovering again and again in my 
Half sleepy and drowsy mind.  20

In my closed thoughtful eyes
Her open black hairs were adding
A fabulous charm 
On her shining rosy white skin
And her well shaped long fingers
Were moving 
On the strings of her Sitar
With a rhythm and soothing flow
I had never witnessed before
Producing a melodious sound 
Which can even enchant 
A cruel emotionless heart 
Like that of a beast
What to say of humans.     21  

Ravindra 
Kanpur India 21st April 2016


….  To be concluded in next last.
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