There was this almost, but not quite unlike Celtic tune I heard on Sunday, over the cellphone on a street, while trying to find my bearings. I was tired and sweating, yet the synthesizer's tune compelled me to stay on and hear the whole song while pushing my legs to a known place, to go home.
It took me some time to find out, though. And I was terribly confused. Confused at where I was. It looked familiar. I had known of this place, the shops had addresses written on them. I was still listening to the tune, and I couldn't tell the player to stop. The song blossomed, as I tried slowing it in my head and understanding the chords and the notes. Faster and now slower.
It seemed miraculous, almost. Here I was, out from a tiring exam, and I was listening to a new tune that I had never listened to before. Something that always seemed to be at the tip of my fingers as I sat with my synthesizer, but not quite what came out. And then, I realised that everything suddenly vanished.
I was staring at three weeks of torture, and abruptly the fabric of Time, ruptured. The beautiful song filled mine ears and left them with enough.
When Music hits you, it does so in an unimaginably wild manner.
I was actually smiling weirdly while I looked for an auto-rickshaw.
I am not a composer, but sometimes you don't need to understand music to know it. I am but a learner.
I am just a bit tired, and I cannot wait for the fifth of May.
2 Wanderer's Words:
Ah music! It fills your soul and transcends all distances. It's beautiful to the creator and beholder and yes, its beauty is wild... almost like an unchained and unbound spirit soaring on the wings of a tender vision.
The composer must feel elated on reading this post... a tribute in its sincerity. Yes, and be thrilled and grateful to learn of the manner in which the music affected the beholder.
Wait. And patience. :]
Perhaps it the Time and Space fabric was slightly torn? Maybe you briefly glimpsed an alternate universe, there?
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