Arrested Passions

She stared at the ceiling above, the intermittent spurts of white and bluish light cast a ghostly pallor on the painting of Bob Marley, it seemed as if he was looking down on them, his grave look casting a sudden heaviness in the room, which it lacked.. She smiled at it. She looked down, feeling her head automatically swing to the starting tune of a song by her favorite performer, the instrument dominating the tune was a mouth-organ.. Ah! the bliss of running one's lips along the cold metal, blowing in your breath and the sound that it produces! It has always effortlessly made her giggle since when she was child.. She turned towards the platform.. swirling around in her movable high stool.. she felt a bit dizzy..


People thronged around the platform to see the person who was singing, some even dancing a little to the beats, there was palpable excitement around, the one that is felt just before a song is about to climax, that anticipated moment, when everyone can join in, singing the chorus knowing all the lyrics, rather than just humming.. She could see the fingers of the performer, strumming the guitar as if he was stroking it gently, she could not help but tap her fingers against the glass she was holding..



He started off with the chorus, the crowd which was bubbling with easy tension, finally let the bubble burst.. they all sang along, some exchanging smiles, some discreet glances at someone or the other, as if the lyrics and the music replaced conversations.. they said it all.. She joined in too.. The performer had this glorious smile on him as he looked on at the effect he was creating around, the drummer behind him, almost starting to bang his head vigorously, as for her, she felt all of it.. the song, the sight, the ambiance .. wash through her, giving her goosebumps and tingling her finger tips as it ran along and left her edges.. She sat bewitched!



She wondered the answer to why she sneaked through her schedule every month at least once to visit this place. Was it the interior of the place that encompassed one with essence of "breaking free"? the carefully chosen paintings, the subtle yet loud lightning? was it the lovely music? or was it the crowd, at sync, resonating off security? Her phone buzzed, breaking off her reverie..



"Its late, come home.. Its just one day in what seems like ages that you are not slogging over-time, yet you manage to disappear..", he paused. She knew the deep baritone voice, but she did not recognize the question in them, neither the taunt. "I will be there.. Sorry..", she said apologetically and waited a few seconds for some response, but all she met with was the clicking of the phone on the other side.. standing up she straightened her trousers, she was in her work clothes, a little out of place, she headed towards the door.. She cast one last glance at the crowd near the platform, it has changed in number a bit, but the energy prevailed, she released a deep sigh opening the door..



As she drove back, she kept having flashbacks of filled auditoriums, the lights, the loud music.. the hands up in the air in approval, the earnest voices demanding for more, the stage shivering in the fervent frenzy and the eyes that always edged her on..


 Reaching home, she parked her car, before getting out, she opened her wallet, to take out an ocean blue guitar pick.. it was her favorite, it had "Carpe Diem" engraved on it in black italicized font, there was a time when she earnestly believed in it.. Oh.. she was young then..





P.S. The setting of the post is vaguely inspired by a video that I came across a few months back.