Short Story: 'The Violin'

All his days had become indistinguishable. When someone asked him the date yesterday, he couldn’t even remember which month it was. The last three months had been a blur. Not the blur you feel when you’re speeding away, going too fast to see anything clearly. No, it was the blur that you see when you don’t know what you’re seeing, don’t know why you’re being forced to see it; when you can’t stand it, and you zoom out, unfocus, and only pretend to see when you’re merely looking. Many years hence when he looked back at this time in his life, what would he remember? Just a void, a dulled existence, numb to any emotion, incapable of thought and incapacitated for action.

Every day he went to work, worked, returned from work, slept a little, then got up and went back to work again. The hours he kept at work were overwhelming. Add the time for the daily commute, and he was away from home for two-thirds of the day. And it wasn’t much of a home either. It was just a room with a bed and his few possessions; some clothes, the laptop, mobile and iPod. Plus, the violin of course.

He hadn’t pulled it out from under his bed even once in the last three months. There was a time when his day was incomplete if he didn’t play it for at least a couple of hours. It had got him through some difficult times and it had given him company when he was at his loneliest. It had also brought the biggest blessings and the most joyful memories in his life. It had brought her into his life.

When she had left him, suddenly and unavoidably, he had clung to the violin like never before. At first, playing it made him miss her so much that it was unbearable. But he couldn’t stop either. Gradually he accepted that fate, destiny, luck, whatever one may call it, had plans quite different from what he wanted. And there’s nothing to be done but move on and keep faith in the possibility of something good happening again. Maybe they would meet again. In different circumstances, in another world, in another life. Maybe then he wouldn’t hesitate to tell her how he felt till it was too late. Maybe then he wouldn’t disappoint her. And maybe then she wouldn’t break his heart.

It had been many years since then and he had moved on. At least he thought he did. He didn’t think of her for several weeks at a time. That was good, wasn’t it? So what if he had to give up playing the violin because the thought of it scared him. He was scared the music would break the careful bonds he had tied up his emotions in. If he set them free, he knew that they would wreck his life, and he couldn’t allow that to happen.

Today he heard the sound of a violin playing again. For a second he doubted his ears. How could it be? In this place? But it was unmistakable. He made his way through the crowd towards the melancholic broken melody and the unrecognizable tune. He reached the crowded end of the street and there playing the violin was a blind beggar, with an upturned hat filled with coins and notes before him. He stood for a long time trying to control the flood of memories that rose within him.

Finally, he looked up. She was standing beside him, drawn by the music, and back into his life. He looked into her eyes and knew that this time there would be a happily ever after.


  1. Wow! Fabulous! Alho' I like the beginning more than the end..the way u've written it..

    "All his days had become indistinguishable." I can almost feel what thats like for him..when the passage of time becomes insignificant and meaningless to him becoz he's retreated to a place inside his head with a need to insulate himself..

    awesome..I'm so going to come up with something one of these days ;)

    oh, and again, the story makes names unnecessary..

  2. Strikes a chord. No pun intended!

  3. I like the different ways of blurred :)
    And don't know if he's just hoping again.

  4. @Tangled: Thanks a lot! :)

    Actually, I began this with a non-romantic story in mind. But somehow the story pulled in another direction, and I yielded. What I mean is that the starting was more thought out, while the ending was spontaneous.

    You've expressed well what I wished to convey.. :)

    And I'm so looking forward to stories from you.

    @Divinite: I struck the right notes, didn't I? (Pun intended)

    @eternalmonotony: They both realize the value of what they had. The separation has given them clarity. I'm sure it'll work this time!

  5. last comment is no showing *puzzled*

    neway, you just got awarded! chek it out :P

  6. @Nikita: Thanks a lot!! :) I'll be putting it up here shortly.. :)

  7. I liked the beginning too..Especially the part about time zooming by..There are days when I have felt the same, and no its not coz of a break up :-)

  8. @Rambler: You know, the beginning of the story wasn't written with a break-up in mind at all. I had planned it in a whole different direction. If I had continued to write in the whole work-frustration thing, would it've been more relate-able? I will try to think of something on those lines as well..

  9. I dunno if its frustration with work or not, but there are times when I don't realize when the week has passed by..Maybe its a result of doing too much or too little,not sure which...

  10. Hey Arslan... nice write up.... but y do i feel it is so much inspired by AUGUST RUSH .... i hope u have seen the movie... there is a striking similarity which cant b mistaken....

  11. @Amrita: I've seen the movie, but it wasn't on my mind when I wrote this. It was planned to be more like 'Rock On', if anything, but turned out in a different manner. :)


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