Love or Magic : Part 1

.If you were offered the choice between love or magic, what would go for? Let me tell you what happened in my own case.

"I was still a young man when I decided to walk over to the next village. I had never been there before and I felt adventurous. When I came to the top of a rise I saw below me a cart and horse that had become stuck in a swollen river.
After I had waded knee deep in the water up to the driver's seat, I saw the driver.

He was an old man with a flowing white beard and white unkempt hair. When he saw me his eyes opened wide in total surprise and he said strange words to me.

"Dear God. You have come to me here. Now in my last few days you come out of nowhere. I've waited for you so long."
"What do you mean, Uncle? "
"My dear boy, I've no time to explain all that now. Let me show you instead. Listen to me. Can you see my horse? How does he look to you?"

"Uncle, he's the most tired looking horse that I've ever seen. He seems to be on his last legs. He'll never be able to pull you out of here. That's for sure."
"Ah! So you've seen that with your own eyes, have you?"
"Yes Uncle."
"Good. Now watch this carefully. Don't take your eyes off that horse. Just keep on looking at him."

Out of the corners of my eyes, I saw him reach out to the back and drag out a sturdy looking box out of which he took out a beautifully made violin. It was made of a rich nut brown wood. Its exquisite workmanship simply demanded one's full attention. I could not help myself. I had to stare at it.

The old man turned to look at me earnestly. "Son! What did I tell you? Just keep your eyes on the horse, please."
I did as he asked. As I stared at the drooping ears of the horse, I began to hear the most heavenly music coming from next to me. It was the old man playing. I did not dare turn to look.

I'm glad that I did look at the horse because what I saw was beyond belief.

It seemed to grow 3 inches taller, its coat became shinier and it began to toss its head around like an Arab steed. Incredibly and without hesitation it pushed forward against the harness and the cart began to move easily out of the water and up the bank on the other side.
"You saw that my son?"
"Yes Uncle. I can't believe it. It was amazing, Uncle."
"What is your name,boy."
"It's Taboor, Uncle.
"Well Taboor, I have to tell you this. I'm sad to say it but my last days are near. My beautiful wife, Roohina, lies buried in the next village. I've come here now to be with her for always."
"No wait, Uncle. I'll quickly go and get some medicine. Tell me what you need, Sir."

"No no dear boy. It's not an illness. I want to be with her. I'm coming home to be
in her arms for always. We had a love like no other. It was more a magic than a love. A magic like you will have one day."
"Me, Uncle. Why me? "
"It's all to do with the eyes. Do you know that there are people with a certain look in their eyes? In them one can see a depth ... a spirituality. Call it a belief in magic. And you have those eyes, my son. Yes, you have them. "

When we arrived at the village, we found a suitable lodging. I found food for us both. We spoke for a while and then we fell asleep.
The next morning I went out and, after asking many questions, found the grave of the old man's Roohina. As he ordered me to do, I asked the headman to open a new grave site next to hers.

He came with me on the next day and sat down on the grass next to the burial spot. He told me to open up the box and take out the violin. I did so in great awe.
Then he asked me to begin playing.
"But, Uncle, I can't do that. I'm so sorry but I've never played a violin before in my life. "
Then he spoke his last words.
"Son, take this violin and play. Don't think about it. Just stroke it. It will know what to do. Play for me and my Roohina. "

I placed the instrument under my chin as I had seen him do. As I began the first stroke of the bow, my fingers began moving by their own will. I played music that I had never heard before. From another land, from another era and from another spiritual plane.
Sadly, while I played the old man closed his eyes for the last time.

However, just before the end, his eyes glistened with a youthful vigour and he had the smile of someone entering a paradise and embracing his beloved. I shall never forget that look of sheer joy.

A funeral followed ... and I played. O yes, I played. Soon everyone was dancing.
There was so much joy in the air that I became sure that somewhere the old man
and his Roohina were dancing as well.

A few days later, I left that village and traveled far and wide. I spent the most part of my time in Shilpgram, a festival village North of Udaipur. Whenever I played, the audience responded enthusiastically to my music. They would begin to sing and dance wherever they could find an open space.

I had been listening to my Grandfather tell his amazing story. I sat at his feet with open mouthed wonder. He looked gently at me.

"I've told you this story for a reason, Grandson. You see the time has come for me to hand over the same violin to its new owner. Just as that old man gave the violin to me when he was old, now I will give it to you. Yes it's you that I've chosen."
"Me Grandfather! Why me? Why not my father? "
"O there is no real logical answer for that. It's just that you have the eyes. Only a select few people have them. That's all. It's your destiny to receive the violin."
"But I can't play a note, Grandfather."
"Don't be afraid. You will. Just like I did."

I took the violin carefully kept in its case. For two days I just looked at it. I didn't dare touch it until the evening of the third day. There was a mistiness in the air and I thought that I saw a rainbow. Iwalked hurriedly over to a meadow and began to play.

After that first evening, I would often go to this meadow and play and play.

One day a most remarkable event took place. I heard the violin play a new sound. A most incredible sound. As the sound was heard, everything began to happen all at once.

The leaves on all the trees rustled in unison. The log grasses swayed together to look like the waves of an ocean. I could feel the violin heave and surge in my hands.
By some mystical insight I knew that I had just heard the Lost Chord.
The Lost Chord?

Yes! Millennia ago, ancient priests had known this magical combination of notes. They had often used it to quell riotous crowds and cast spells on reluctant politicians. The Chord could make mighty soldiers lay down their arms. This Chord had been handed down from priestly custodian to custodian until one of them had been murdered and the secret lost forever.
I knew then that this Chord was a special gift that came with the violin. I knew that when most needed, the violin would play that Chord to produce the effect that it wanted at that moment.