There was once a pianist who was learning you see,
And each morning he played in the hours of wee..
He practised and played for hours at a stretch,
And sometimes a wonderful melody he'd etch!
As the days grew by, so did his art,
He played so well, he played from the heart!
One fine morning, there was a knock on his door,
He wondered, “Who could it be at this early hour?”
"Must be neighbours..", he thought, "I should be a little low.."
"I hope I didn't disturb them, it's early I should know.."
A large framed man at his doorstep he saw,
Hesitant, the pianist began to withdraw..
But no disturbance or anger clouded the man’s face,
He gave the pianist a sudden warm embrace..
"You made the Miss happy, she is smiling these days,"
"She asked for your number, she sings in your praise!"
Humbled, his number, the pianist shared,
By the man's words, he was taken unaware..
He continued playing some more, slowly he even sang..
And one fine morning, his telephone rang.
"Could you be a little louder? I have been listening you see,
Your music is beautiful, it soothes me.."
Another evening, as he was out sipping some tea,
He saw someone standing in the next balcony..
He had finally seen her and what a beauty she was,
She took his breath away, she made his heart pause..
That night, on his bed, not a minute he slept,
Next morning, when he played, he didn't just play for himself,
He was hoping she'd hear him and had his eyes on the phone,
His mind was not in place today and so was not his tone..
But the phone did not ring as he wanted it to,
He could not play for too long, he felt a little blue..
He was longing to catch sight of her once again,
Maybe talk to her, smile, and ask her, her name..
He did see her that evening, in the same balcony,
She looked serene as ever.. "Oh, she's looking at me!"
And in her direction, he dashed his best smile,
Her sight had just made the day worthwhile..
But she looked right through him, straight point blank..
No frown but no smile too.. his heart just sank!
"Does she not recognise me? Oh that must be it!
Let me wave out to her next time, maybe she'll see it.."
And so he waved another evening, but she turned her face,
She looked the other way, it made his nerves race..
He was upset & perplexed, not knowing why she was so cold,
It made him feel enraged and no longer could he withhold.
He paced in his room, trying hard to calm down..
Even tried playing a tune, but his agony wouldn't drown.
Next morning, he thought, "I'll just lay in bed..
I'm too tired to play, and so heavy is my head.."
It was noon when he heard the telephone ring,
It was her.. and she said she dearly missed him!
"Why do you not smile, or ever wave back at me?", he asked.
She had nothing to answer, no words.. it left him aghast.
"I will never play, not for this woman, not now, not ever..
Let her miss me.. maybe she will call me.. oh yes, that's clever!"
So he stopped playing thereafter, causing his heart to sadden more..
Nothing made him happy, he felt too numb & sore.
Days went by, the telephone too didn't ring..
Then came a knock on his door, his mind went questioning..
" Could it be her? Has she come after all?"
But instead it was the same man, the one who had started it all.
"Why are you doing this Sir? You need to play!
It is the only thing that makes the Miss truly live her day..
She no longer looks forward to mornings you see,
She is sick and getting paler, you need to come with me.."
Without the pianist, the man refused to budge,
So they went to her house but he still held a grudge..
"I don't know why I agreed to come, I find your Miss too queer..
She does not return my greetings, she does not want me here."
And there she was, tapping the floor with a stick..
Her arms felt the air around her, she found her way pretty quick..
"Please do not be angry Mister, I did not have words to say..
I did not mean to hurt you, I was displeased with myself that day.
I cannot return your gesture or your smile and it hurts me,
While your music brings me so much peace, you play beautifully!
I feel I cannot even repay you for what you've given me,
For every morning it's your music which is the only thing that makes me 'see' ".
This was partially (first few lines :D ) based on me and was written by my friend.