A Content Loss Of Faith

Din was used to it.

The crowd of hundreds of thousands was moving in a slow and tight stillness. He could see blinding flashes of light and several teenagers old enough to be his daughters, screaming proposals at him.

He was used to that entire immoral obsession.

He could see the loathsome photographers, who clustered around him like cockroaches, and the reporters who asked crappy questions and wrote even crappier things about him.

He was used to being misinterpreted.

It was the such and such of being a forty year old unmarried musician.

Eternal fame, pay checks larger than life and the fact that he had lived his dream balanced the heartache and the pain of being sold out as a commodity.

This was a chapter of his life that he had been longing for all his life. But the most favourite one dated back to 1993, when he was thirteen and Vrksha happened.

Din met Vrksha on a cloudy December morning in the untamed terrain of the Western Ghats. It was among the world’s highest tea estates that he stumbled head on into his destiny and made it answer to his call.

Thirteen was a beautiful age. It was the age of dreams and possibilities uncontaminated with the fear of failure. It was the age of indisputable Faith.

Forty, on the other hand, was infected with the realistic pain of practicality. At forty, one is too exhausted that keeping things in a balance and mistakes cannot be risked. Forty is cruel, lumbered and dead beat. Forty is old.

At thirteen, on a dark early December morning, Din was swiftly cycling past his regular row of houses, throwing the thick bundle of paper at each doorstep from a six foot distance. He knew the momentum with which it had to be thrown and the distance it was expected to reach. He had never calculated it on paper; it was a flawless mental sketch. He never missed.

Two hours later, he would rush out of his shack, dressed in a dull but clean dress and walked into the music class.

Mr.Indrajit was the kindest person Din had ever met. He was a sixty year old unmarried man, who had devoted his life to Music and God. He was the kind soul who made Din’s passion for music a professional actuality.

Vrksha was a new girl. Din could tell she was new, because she was standing on his spot. His Spot. He tried to be polite and walked towards His Sitar and His Shruti Box and glowered at the alien who had invaded his province.

But she smiled.

A smile that sent light into his eyes. He just couldn’t radiate his anger anymore. The luminosity of the smile was too intense. For some bizarre reason, he was reminded of Gandhiji.

‘Hi!’ she said. Her eyes were bright and glittering. She held out her hand. ‘I’m Vrksha’

‘Din’ he said in a submissive tone and shook her hand.

The lessons started. Din paid attention as usual. He was focused, and thirsty for musical knowledge.

Vrksha, however, wouldn’t stop talking.

‘I’m new here.’ She said. ‘Do you know where I can get a good Sitar?’

Din knew the whole of Munnar by heart. But he didn’t like being interrupted during class.

‘Uh…No’ he lied. But Vrksha was a very talkative girl. Thirteen minutes later, Din couldn’t do anything make her shut up. She was talking and talking and talking.

At the end of class, she followed him out. It was starting to get unbearable.

He stopped halfway at the street out of class.

Vrksha stopped.

He turned right.

She turned right.

He turned around to her. She was standing there, smiling. Again.

‘What?’ he asked trying hard to sound rude but powerless to and involuntarily returning that smile.

‘Uh, I don’t know anybody around here’ she said in a docile tone.

‘So?’ Din was honestly confused.

‘Can you show me the way to Bison valley road? I think I’m lost’ her childlike smile was still very captivating. ‘Please?’

Din couldn’t hold back his smile anymore. He returned it.

‘Sure tag along!’

She skipped forward with enthusiasm.

‘You know, for a lost child, you seem way too happy’

She smiled yet again. ‘I’m not lost. Not really’

Din walked along with her, she was humming a raga of her own, looking around.

‘Which school do you go to?’

‘I don’t’ came a low reply.

Vrksha stopped walking. She looked at him, perplexed. Confused and puzzled, she was not sure if she had to ask him why. Her thirteen year old gut instinct told her it wouldn’t be nice to ask him so. So she did.

‘Why?’ she asked.

‘Because I had a choice to make.’ Din explained to her. ‘I could either pay for Music or Pay for school, but not both.’

Din knew it was best to drop the topic there. The girl was starting to feel bad.

‘You’re home’ he gleamed at her as they arrived at Bison Valley. Vrksha was not smiling. He had haunted her and snatched away her smile. He felt cruel.

She walked away, mortified, not smiling back. She walked away without light.

The next day, Din walked in to the music class with a little guilt and reluctance.

‘Hey’ he smiled at Vrksha who was busy playing a tough note on His Sitar.

‘Hey’ it was a gloomy reply. ‘I’m sorry I asked’

‘Don’t be’ he smiled her smile.

Vrksha watched him with deep eyes.

‘Can you show me how to play Malhar?’  She enquired, trying to break the awkward silence.

Din took hold of the sitar.

It was like witnessing a miracle.

He started with slow peaceful notes, the kind of subtle notes that tickle the musical nerves of the listeners and then slowly intensifies into a passionate pitch that brings rain, not literally outside, but in the soul.

Vrksha was drenched in the musical downpour.

She did not remember what happened in the rest of the class.

‘You have to teach me how you did that!’ she exclaimed as they walked out.

‘I listened to my heart, Vrksha, that’s all’ he said modestly.

Vrksha invited him home. Her parents were warm and welcoming.

‘Mom! Dad!’ she shrieked as she ran in. ‘You should listen to the way he plays Malhar. Do you know why it’s raining outside?’

Mr and Mrs Kavin were very much used to their daughter’s enthusiasm at even the most simplest every day happenings.

‘Honey, It’s raining because we’re in Munnar’ her father gave a gentle reply. ‘That’s the climatic feature of the tropical rain forests’

‘No!’ she disclaimed her father’s honest reply. ‘It’s raining because Din played the Malhar!’

Mr. Kavin smiled at his daughter’s new friend.

‘Hello, Sir’ Din smiled. Vrksha dragged him to his room and that was when Din saw it.

The beautiful tea coloured acoustic guitar, with shiny polished surface, and black strong strings was majestically placed on an ebony coloured iron stand.

It was love at first sight.

Din hadn’t seen anything more beautiful in his life.

‘Can I touch that?’ he asked Vrksha who was hopping around the room ranting about random things.

‘Sure’

‘Can I play her?’

‘Sure’

His heart skipped a beat as he touched it. The strings felt like freshly bloomed life under his fingers. He had never held something so beautiful and so new in his life before. He fell in love again. Holding the piece of music made him feel complete.

He played Kadhal Rojavey. His most favourite track of all time.

Vrksha, who was skipping around the room, froze as he began to sing. Her eyes welled up, and she stood there speechless. It was a depressingly stunning melody that locked the heart in forceful emotion.

‘Do you know how you play so well?’ she asked in a coarse shaky voice. ‘Why the songs you play are pure and from the soul?’

Din had never been noticed, nevertheless, be appreciated so much. He shook his head.

‘It’s because you’re emotions are honestly painful’ he said. ‘Personal tragedies produce great music.’

Din was surprised at how much it all made sense. Being abandoned by a father at birth and then losing a mother at six, had ripped his soul apart and broken his heart into pieces even before he had grown up into a full person.

For the first time ever, he thought of all the bad memories of life with respect. Pathos was good. Cruel, but good.

He started dropping by Vrksha’s place more often. Partially to meet her and partially to play the guitar.

Soon, a few months later, he received an acceptance letter for a musical contract from an International Recording Company. A dilemma struck, he started weighing the realistic opportunities he would get if he played for them. The chances were very thin. He had heard of many young people, who had lost their lives by dreaming dreams that they could not afford. He felt doubtful if he could risk being one of them.

‘You’re going to a world famous musician when you grow up, Din’

Vrksha predicted one evening when the two of them were in a Portugal Church nearby.

‘It’s a good dream’ he smirked. ‘But I can’t afford dreams, Vrksha.’

Her face fell. He instantly felt guilty.

‘But you will. Your voice has a good throw.’ He said in compensation.

‘I’m sorry, but I don’t understand why you are so cynical all the time!’

It was shocking to see her angry. Din hadn’t even known she had that emotion in her.

‘Seriously Din, why can’t you believe in the prospects of a good future? What’s the point in shunning your dreams away in the name of realism? What’s your problem with happy endings?’

Din was speechless.

‘I can’t stand to see you underestimate yourself, Din. Others make music. You make Magic. Why aren’t you giving yourself enough credit for that?’

‘It’s because the memories of the life I’ve had has made I tough to keep up faith.’

Vrksha thought for a second. She walked towards the podium, lighted a candle and brought it towards him.

‘Take this, then.’ She said.

‘A candle?’

‘No’ she said. ‘This is MY faith. I’m giving it to you so you can keep it until you find yours’

Din’s frozen heart thawed.

‘Vrksha, you can’t!’ he said in apprehension.

Vrksha thrust the candle into his hands.

‘A touch of spirituality is essential for every musician. Faith is the soul of music.’ She said.

‘I know you want to be a famous musician too. You can’t lose your faith for me.  Keep it. ’ Din argued.

‘If my faith in your hands will give you the light to tread the dark path to glory’ Vrksha smiled a luminous smile. ‘Then it’s a loss I’m happy to make.’

Din took the candle close to his heart. They prayed in silence for the rest of the evening.

The two thirteen year olds, walked out of the chapel with content hearts. It was when the stars were shining that Din asked the question that he had been longing to ask.

‘Vrksha?’  He asked ‘What are we?’

‘I don’t know.’ She was humming. ‘Take a guess’

‘Are we best friends?’

‘We’re something more than that.’

‘Girl friend-Boy friend? ’

‘Yuck’ she said, her face turning sour. ‘But something more than that.’

‘Brother and sister?’

‘Too Cliche’d’ she said ‘Something more than that I guess.’

‘Well, what are we?’

Vrksha thought for a minute.

‘We’re like Krishna and Draupadi.’

They burst out laughing, with the clangour of their laughter echoing among the lonely mountains.

Din could still see the brightness of her eyes looking out of the window, twenty seven years later.

He had left Munnar when he was fifteen and never returned. A couple of weeks back, his agent told him he had a live performance in Munnar. That was when he had called Mr. Kavin’s residence.  He was surprised at how he still remembered him. Of course he was world famous now. But he remembered Din as his daughter’s childhood best friend.

Din said he’d be coming to Munnar in a couple of weeks. He said he’d like to meet them. Then all the formal enquiries were made.

How was Vrksha? Yes, she was good.(She was married, and lived in Sydney. Husband was a lawyer.) Yes, she was happy.( She was in fact, the mother of two.)

How was Din? Yes, he was good too. (He had three Grammy awards and five National awards. He was still unmarried because he didn’t feel like it.) Yes, that was understandable according to Mr.Kavin. (Some people were better off without marriage.) He told him that she was visiting them in a week, so it was possible to arrange a meeting.

Thus the conversation ended summing up seventeen years in a forty minute conversation.

Din waited patiently in the lobby of the hotel he was staying at. He had cancelled his limo and had told Mr.Kavin to send his car. He didn’t want the paparazzi to follow him on personal meetings.

The car arrived, and after a very short drive, Din was in the living room of Vrksha’s home.

‘Din!’

A familiar shrill voice.

He turned around. She was standing there, as usual, smiling.

‘Mr.Popstar!’ she took him in a warm hug. ‘I’m so proud of you. You have no idea how much. I knew it. I knew you were going to be big. I knew it all along.’

He smiled. Proud that he had made her proud.

‘Oh, and prepare yourself to be attacked by the most dangerous creatures known to man.’ She said with caution.

He looked at her puzzled.

‘Fan girls’ she said in a low hushed voice.

‘My younger daughter is crazy for you, by the way. So is the older one, but the younger one is a little more obsessed and hence a little more dangerous.’

Din smiled. A strange warm feeling took over. ‘Where are they?’

‘I’ve locked them in the room.’ She said casually. ‘Now don’t give me that look. I’m not a bad mother. It’s for your safety.’

Din understood. He’d been flocked by fans before. Some had almost killed him with love. But these weren’t just fans. They were Vrksha’s daughters. They were his family.

‘Hahaha’ he chuckled. ‘Unlock them and bring them out. I’ll tell them why they can’t crush over a man who is just as old as their mother.’

The two of them walked in. They both had striking similarities. Especially the eyes. The eyes shone brightly as they smiled at him.

They had their mother’s eyes.

He smiled at them and he remembered something much more important. He turned to Vrksha.

‘I have something that belongs to you’ he said taking out a beautiful blue candle. ‘I finally found mine, so, it’s time I returned yours.’

‘I knew you would.’ Vrksha gleamed at him. ‘I have something for you too.’

She vanished put of the room for a few minutes and returned with the guitar.

‘You’ve always wanted this, didn’t you?’ she smiled.

‘Sweet Mother of God!’ Din shrieked in exhilaration. ‘My True Love!’

He took it from her, grateful and delighted.

The two girls starred at the craziness that was portrayed in front of them in shock.

‘And the two of you’ Vrksha calmed herself down as her mother instinct kicked in. ‘Din has something to say to the two of you. You can’t crush over him anymore, because-’

‘Because I’m your Godfather.’ Din completed.

Vrksha looked at him, awestruck and eyes welled up.

The girls were elated.

‘We are the God-Daughters of musical genius Din!’ The older one shrieked.

‘Wait till everyone at school hears about this!’ The younger one shrieked

‘We’re his family!’ Both the sister shrieked.

They jumped up, yelping and knocked him down in a hug.

The evening proceeded, blistering with happiness. Din planed a schedule of regular visit with his God-daughters. The schedule started with them being on stage with him for the next day’s show.

‘Vrksha?’ he said as he prepared to leave

‘Thanks for giving me your faith. It made me.’

Vrksha smiled a lightful smile.

‘Thanks for being worth it.’

__END__