Oh no I am not on trip about the whole old is gold routine. Infact I am talking about the fear of picking up old habits, interests, hobbies once again. It felt harder than getting back to the gym or getting up early like one did during school. It was so old in my memory that I dont even think I could feel the rust. It used to be a routine, a craving, a passion, a habit of de-stressing with it… I am talking about my Sitar!
A few months ago a collegue started taking flute lessons. It made me think about my interests in music. Something I had burried under my rug, mind and memories. He would play random notes (that sounded absolutely not in tune) sitting right next to me. Annoyed the hell out of my brains I tell you. Actually started making me think about how annoyed my parents must be getting when I had started learning the sitar. After about 2 years or so it was their grumbling that made me give it all up. I am hoping it was not because how terrible I would play it. for by then I could play alot of the raagas!
While the flute started sounding in tune over the next few weeks, my brain kept telling me to start playing the Sitar again. I would try and bring up the topic of getting it down from the attic while my mom was busy watching one of those cranky tv serials. She would nod her head then and give me a snarl when I would open the attic door and stand there staring at my beautiful companian. After about 2 weeks of staring I wore my lucky socks and tried to feel some magin in my hands. I managed to take the sitar out and clean it all up.
I was scared to change the strings and try out a few notes, thinking my folks would get annoyed and that would upset me. But I still did that. To my surprise my hands moved smoothly and the sound made me smile. Dad walked in after 15 minutes of my riyaz and gave me a smile. It was one of those comforting signs telling me that it was okay at times to overcome the fear of picking up old things once again.
I think I was more scared of holding it in my hand as it had more memories attached to it’s strings than I thought. And although I had managed to develop a ‘no strings attached’ attitude, I was scared these notes would strike a cord with unwanted memories. While I still fight sudden gushes of guilt (of giving it up) and random flashes of events attached to it, the sitar has been given new strings and cleaned up so that I can de-stress once in a while.
I know its going to take me a very long time before I can play all that I used to before, but its presence brings a huge smile on my face everytime I enter my room.
I have realised that somethings you learn in life just never leave you… It’s like knowing how to ride a bike.
P.S. I owe it big time to the one who played really bad notes and forced me to play something in tune… I promise to jam one of these days and make it sound better than aaj jaane ki zid na karo…