Life sometimes feels like a taut string. When things move, they pick up speed, but when they stop, restarting can be tough. 

There was a time when my music teacher and I would spend two hours just talking, sharing our thoughts and enjoying each other’s company. After returning from the U.S. last October, we spoke only once—and briefly. 

Then, a WhatsApp message sparked memories of those joyful conversations. I found the key to unlock that connection again. 

With an hour and a half free for meditation, I picked up the phone and called him—my friend, teacher, and guru, despite our 25-year age gap. 

We reconnected easily, and the conversation flowed. Health updates came first, but soon, we dove deep into music—Tamil, Hindi, Carnatic, Western—you name it. It felt as if no time had passed, and we shared stories and musical insights with mutual delight. 

My teacher lives in a gated community, where aspiring musicians naturally gravitated toward him. During the pandemic, he even organized a concert with these budding musicians. Over time, they formed their own band, performing regularly within the community. 

He has all the qualities of a top composer, though he’s not interested in going commercial. It’s the world’s loss, not his. 

Sometimes, I regret not being able to learn music from him anymore due to my health. But I still dream—maybe I could use a MIDI keyboard to explore music on my own. God will guide me to the right decision. 

Our conversation lasted over two hours, and I missed my meditation. Meditation eases my pain and fatigue, but in hindsight, the call felt just as therapeutic. 

Music has a way of aligning the mind. In those two hours, my thoughts were focused, my body relaxed, and the discussion itself became a form of meditation. 

When minds align and gossip fades away, what remains is pure bliss. 

Contd. 386. Word Wars