Posted:
My request -
Theme : college or a hang-out place
Genre: Pure fun and masti
Couple : SaNu ( Samrat n Nupur)
i hope friendship couples are allowed too =P
Originally posted by: aish_punk
ananya - its a pleasure lol i actually i found ur theme pretty easy..n i really cant write complicated or sad stuff much :P.....i hope u liked reading it :)..thanks 4 ur sweet words..
aria - eh, well am not sure..i read one of ur FF's or maybe one-shots...dunno if that counts as an interaction...n thanks...lol, seriously...it does'nt happen 2 us atleast! *sigh*...n u mean Angad's?..lol..sri - thank u..was the end diff or not? :S..lol, i did'nt get u!..thanks for liking it..
Originally posted by: aish_punk
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sri - thank u..was the end diff or not? :S..lol, i did'nt get u!..thanks for liking it..
This story is response to request by Hina.
Audience of one
"For broken hearts, torn feelings, missing friends and lost love, I give you this song on this particularly chilly monsoon evening where raindrops feel like coins falling from a coin purse of an old lady. Enjoy the song I am playing for you and wish a hello to your loved one in your heart 'Broken' by Lifehouse." An RJ crooned this in one breath as the beginning notes of a melancholic song started to play.
The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time
The fingers which were moving along the neck of the violin in a synchrony of music composed in his head stilled. The words from the radio held no static and were clear to his ears. Music was beautiful and the words truthful. His fingers resumed their action a little brusque this time while his mind tried not to think about the lyrics from the song. He had heard the words of RJ before the song started playing and instantaneously his treacherous mind had put a face to the words. Her.
Once upon a time, the importance of her presence was more than that of his music. He was a promising new violinist and she was simply her. People had said that he would do great things and write amazing music and he was just learning then. It was a spring evening when he had picked up violin from the street fiddler and had started to play for fun. The fiddler had not minded the intrusion and had enjoyed a melancholic tune to mark the onset of end of the day played by a young man who had insisted at the start that he was a mere student while his fingers had moved like a professional. The fiddler had hugged him once he had finished his performance and pedestrians finished applauding. He had earned the fiddler meals for a week or so. He had bumped into her as soon as he had turned away from the fiddler. She invited him for a cup of coffee which in turn led to lunch and then to dinner and finally they were seeing each other every day.
One day, she left.
And she left a wound which turned into a permanently aching scar.
I am here still waiting though I still have my doubts
I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out
After that all the music that was swimming in his head had turned mute. His fingers had shaken as he caught the neck of the violin and the bow trembled due to tightness in his palm. His music was still brilliant, no doubt, but it had lost something. And once he had realized it, he quit playing.
I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart that's still beating
He had quit playing music and
composing. His family was shocked, his teachers mourned for a loss of talent
and his friends seethed for his emotional breakdown. He however remained nonchalant
towards everything around him. But he was someone who was always immersed in
music and everything that had to with music.
So he chose to become a luthier. (A luthier is a person who makes or repairs stringed instruments)
He could not let go of music completely. There were times when memories accompanied a tune which made him miss a note or bounce the bow. In those moments, his mind turned blank and hands stood still. Music lay forgotten.
In the pain, there is healing
In your name I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on
I'm barely holdin' on to you
The words from the song playing on the radio get etched in his mind and plays continuously. His fingers do the things from its memory and his mind remembers a part of his life which he both cherishes and dislikes. She had burned him like a sunset would but for him, the night had never come to soothe his pain. He was stuck in twilight where confusion lay between darkness and light.
He could not let her go. He was not ready to let her go.
The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead
I still see your reflection inside of my eyes
That are looking for a purpose, they're still looking for life
The way he handles the violin in his hands is like a mother carrying her baby. He is gentle with it and handles with utmost care. He is preparing this violin for an order he received via telephone. The caller was a man who wished to present a custom made violin to his wife. His heard had filled with warmth when he had heard the man's gushing words about his wife's fixation for violins.
He tweaks the tuning pegs out of pure habit and runs the bow on the strings. He is dissatisfied with the sound produced and sits down once more to tweak and fine tune. The word from the song played before runs in his mind and gives him a vision of an old memory.
It is a memory of them, being happy. He had tried to teach her violin but her constant distraction with the outside world had not allowed him to give her a proper class. She loved being with people, traveling, mountain climbing and art. Her distraction had not only been with the people around them but also with reality. When he thought that he had really understood her, she did something exactly opposite of what was expected and sometimes he failed to get a reaction from her. She was a constant contradiction and he related that to the music which he composed during their affair. He played improvised variations of many standard compositions which had baffled his professors to no end.
Once she left, he had burned those music sheets.
I'm hangin' on another day
Just to see what you throw my way
And I'm hanging on to the words you say
You said that I will be OK
He shakes his head to clear his mind of dusty thoughts and forgotten times. This isn't the time for retrospection, he admonishes himself. He tests the newly tuned violin and smiles discreetly in self appreciation for the music it produces. When the sound becomes satisfactory to the heart, it automatically becomes music. He knows this fact and that is the reason why he is still in business. He neatly packs the violin in its case and cleans his studio on reflex. There is a chime at the door and he wonders who that might be. He is fairly new in town and he has no friends. The customer, the man who has ordered a violin for his wife, his mind reminds him. He smiles and opens the door.
A man stands with a woman, both smiling. She clutches her husband's arm lovingly and is laughing at something he said and buries her face in his arm to muffle the sound of her laughter. She turns around at the sound of opening of a door and widens her eyes in surprise.
He meets the woman's eyes which are swimming with guilt. He hands over the violin tonelessly to the man and shuts the door without any further conversation. He is surprised to find that the anger which he had expected to come, never really came and the angst that had been weighing him down for past few years had disappeared somewhere and he felt light and free.
He felt like playing violin.
And so he did.
The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone
I may have lost my way now, haven't forgotten my way home
~Sookie
Audience of One.
God knows why this one came to my mind.
Kaise bataayein, kyun tujhko chahe, yaara bataa na paaye.
Baatein dilo ki, dekho jo baaki, aankhein tujhe samjhaye.
Tu jaane na .. tu jaane na .. tu jaane na .. tu jaane na
Milke bhi, hum na mile, tum se na jaane kyun. meelon ke, hai faasle, tum se na jaane kyun. anjaane, hai silsile, tum se na jaane kyun. sapne hai, palkon tale, tum se na jaane kyun.ooo ooo..
Kaise bataayein, kyun tujhko chahe, yaara bataa na paaye.
Baatein dilo ki, dekho jo baaki, aankhein tujhe samjhaye.
Tu jaane naa..aaa... tu jaane na .. tu jaane na .. tu jaane naaaa...
Hey I have another request for ya'll.
Theme: Food Fight
Genre: I am not fussy... Ya'll choose
Couple: Armaan [+] Riddhima
Love Misha
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