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April 18, 2009

An auditorium full of people and more coming in with each passing minute. He stood backstage peering from behind the curtains when two of his friends caught his eye and raised their eyebrows asking where she was? He replied with a negative sign “Not yet”. It was one of his most important days in life it was not one but two exams of life together.

He had been learning classical music since he was still in his mother’s womb. His mother the famous Carnatic vocal teacher had dedicated her whole life to it. She spent days with every student of hers to take them to perfection, her son being one of her favourite students. She didn’t waste a minute, as soon as she saw the talent in him when he was just 2 years old and started singing along with her other students in class.

So his training began at an early age. Music came easily to him as it was genetically implanted in him. While other students kept struggling to understand the Raagams and keep in tune with the Taalams he could do it effortlessly. At the tender age of 3 he started accompanying his mother to her concerts.

Today after years of practice it was time for him to have his own solo recital. He had been practicing especially hard all week long. But now was not able to concentrate on the songs but kept checking the entrance. She should have been here already.

He had seen her first about 2 months ago when the college started. As he entered he saw this girl walking in front of him with a couple of other girls chatting and laughing. But he couldn’t see who the other girls were as he couldn’t take his eyes off this girl. The group kept walking and he kept following. They entered his own classroom. So did he.

During the classes he kept shifting his eyes between the board and the new girl. At lunch he could not wait any longer and asked his friend who the girl was. He was told that she just joined his class; as she changed subjects to Music, so was their classmate now.

 She had been in the same college for the past one year and he never saw her. “This meeting was surely fate or why would she change her subject to Music and share his class” that was his thought when he left for home that day.

After two months of silently adoring her, he had finally told her what he felt. She said she’d think about it. So he invited her to his Arangetram.

If she came she has accepted him, if she doesn’t…. he didn’t want to think about that.

It was about time. His mother asked him if he was ready and shall she make the announcements as all guests were here. ‘Not all’ he thought but nodded in affirmation.

The lights went a bit dim and he heard his mother speak on the microphone. He had heard that hundreds of times but today the voice seemed unnoticeable. It was distant, and he was not able to hear anything properly. It was surely not stage fear. He was born for the stage. It was the fear of rejection.

What if she didn’t come..?

He heard claps and his father’s hand on his shoulder gave him a pat and pushed him towards the stage. He went in front of the audience and conveyed his Namaskaram (salutation) to everyone present; as it is a custom of all the performers. The presence of an audience which always exited him was not helping him today. It was making him even more nervous.

He started singing his first song, followed by the second. Then for the instrumentalists to show their talent there was some Jugalbandi between the Violin and the Mridangam. Everyone was performing greatly tonight, including him but his friends could see something was wrong. It was as if he was doing all this mechanically. They had seen him practice to perfection but today his songs didn’t have that soul.

He was about to start his last song and was taking a short break when she suddenly arrived.

His face just bloomed. He signaled his friend to receive her. She was seated in the middle of the front row, where his friend was sitting previously so that he could see her clearly.

He started his final song. And when he ended claps filled the air for 5 minutes. He had performed the last one so well. She was smiling.

After everyone had congratulated him he finally got to talk to her. But words were not coming easy. He wanted to say so much.

Her presence meant she had accepted him. And her smile was speaking for itself.

All he could manage to say was “will you be besides me in every concert of my life?”

And she said “yes”.

24 Comments leave one →
  1. April 18, 2009 2:20 pm

    Lovely story 🙂

    🙂 thanks..

  2. April 18, 2009 6:08 pm

    Sweet story 🙂


  3. April 19, 2009 4:41 am



  4. April 19, 2009 10:27 am

    very ‘lovely’ love story 🙂
    nice read 🙂

    glad you liked it..
    thanks.. 🙂

  5. April 19, 2009 2:56 pm

    Awww!!!! Such a sweet story 🙂

    Hey I guess I have missed loads of posts of urs….might not comment on all but reading all 🙂


    no problem 🙂

  6. April 19, 2009 2:56 pm

    Awww!!!! Such a sweet story 🙂


  7. April 20, 2009 3:03 am

    Sweet story with a very nice pick up line at the end !!! thanks for that 😀

    you’re welcome.. 🙂

  8. April 20, 2009 6:25 am

    Such a sweet story.

    “All he could manage to say was “will you be besides me in every concert of my life?”

    And she said “yes”.”

    Aww….so cute.

    i thought so too only after writing… 🙂

  9. April 20, 2009 7:16 am

    Hey Very sweet and nice story…splly luvd the end line…
    Hope you will soon write sequel of it 🙂

    a sequel..! that’s a great compliment. thanks.. i’ll think about it.. 🙂

  10. April 20, 2009 1:40 pm

    That was so so sweet! Very cute! Loved the way you wrote it!

    thank you..

    welcome here.. 🙂

  11. April 21, 2009 7:34 am

    beautifully written with the curiosity intact till the end. continue with this style of writing . it really is “you” and yes i am back again 😛

    hey..good to have you back.. 🙂

  12. Pal permalink
    April 21, 2009 2:05 pm

    That’s really sweet. Loved it!!

    thanks.. welcome here.. 🙂

  13. April 21, 2009 11:49 pm

    When she said “Yes” , I relaxed and smiled. Nice one 🙂

    me too..
    thanks.. 🙂

  14. April 23, 2009 2:43 pm

    thats one amazing story! kudos to u

    thanks.. 🙂

  15. April 28, 2009 12:52 pm

    Nice story. Would have been better if he had said at the end: “I will support you in any creative endeavor you wish to pursue – Will you too encourage mine?” Just felt that the last statement was a bit selfish of the guy.

    Destination Infinity

    well.. then it would not have sounded real. i’ll make it the base of the story if i try a sequel..

    i guess if you think like this, you might like ‘secret admirer’ try it and let me know..!

    Welcome here.. 🙂

  16. April 29, 2009 2:02 pm

    Right now I am not into fiction – I am reading the google story and then i have a book on the Amul cooperative movement coming up. These days, biographies and auto-biographies seem to interest me more! Different type of stories, they. Anyways, the author of the story has the complete freedom to end it anyway they want and I am not encroaching on that right 😉

    Destination Infinity

    suggestions are always welcome. no problem there.

    nice books you are reading. i myself had started with Hitler’s autobiography a few days ago but due to tight schedule am not able to finish it yet.

  17. May 10, 2009 5:37 pm

    sweet love story


  18. May 19, 2009 7:38 pm


    You write so much like I do. But that’s not necessarily a compliment (sic), unless you decide it is :).

    On a serious note, I consider my writing labored, a bit circuitous for many readers. But that happens as I strive to achieve precision in what I state. True, sometimes I do indulge in flashy writing–meaning using words more for the effect rather than the meaning they convey, but when I write something analytical (most of my posts tagged ‘philosophy’) or intensely personal (e.g., my post, ‘A journey called life’), I go for precision.

    I’ve tried very hard to make my language more fluent, so I’d like to point out that you might have a tendency to lapse into passive voice (though I encountered only one instance).

    Sorry, that my first review of your writing started on a somewhat negative note, but I couldn’t be insincere, too. More so, when I felt your and my writing styles to be so similar.

    I, for one, thoroughly enjoyed the story. Sweet!


    i don’t think what i am wriiting.. i just go with the flow. for once here i don’t feel like i have to produce a perfect sentense as far as it conveys what i am thinking. and if you want it to reach more people the simpler the better.

    i too feel that i have a tendency to write in passive voice but i dont see it as anything negative nor your pointing out as criticism. good that you noticed and now my doubt has been cleared.

  19. May 20, 2009 6:45 am

    Doubt about?

    doubt that i do write in passive voice..

  20. May 21, 2009 7:25 am

    sure its a story…and very much similar to mine, except for the last part- that she didnt come.

    Really..? it was purely my imagination… sorry for the last part, maybe someone else came and you didn’t notice..

    welcome here.. 🙂

  21. May 22, 2009 11:44 pm


    There’s something wrong with wordpress or the fact that I post comments from my cell phone, but couldn’t publish my comment on your ‘thermocol cricket’, which I really liked, and also made me realize you write much better than me 🙂 TC.

    thanks.. 🙂
    but why compare….? we all are individualistically good.

  22. June 15, 2009 9:55 am

    Mushy mushy…! 🙂



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