Folly of Wise Men

Chapter - 5 A world Beyond

When I pictured the world beyond the city walls, I had imagined endless sand dunes. However, what I found was a semi-arid landscape adorned with sparse greens and layers of gold, bathed in the fiery touch of crimson above. The scarcity of sand made it more convenient to build roads, while the people in the east relied on desert animals to traverse regions where sandy dunes were moved and stirred about by the gusts of wind. To the west of the semi-arid plains lay the fertile flatlands and the city of Ambar, which molded me into a canvas to be shaped by vices and virtues

Samira and I both settled on soft cushions placed on top of the seats. We stowed our musical instruments in a compartment reserved for passengers to keep their belongings.

"So, Indrasena Sahib, are you traveling to that town to give a performance?"

"Yes."

"Is that so? Well, in that case, do you mind if I ask you some personal questions?"

"Go on"

"Where are you from, exactly? From whom did you learn your craft." She asked, leaning forward with feigned interest, clearly enjoying playing this new role.

"Someone whom you probably wouldn't recognize—a person of no reputation but skilled in teaching. Their students often turn remarkable, surpassing their master."

"Oh?" she said, raising her eyebrows. "Remarkable, you say? I would like to see, Saheb, that remarkable talent of yours. It's rare to come across prodigies such as you. Will you fulfill my wish and prove me your talent?"

With a self-assured smile, I grabbed the sarod with my dominant hand and positioned it on my lap, resting the gourd on my left thigh and its neck on my left shoulder.

"My heart desired something so forbidden," I sang, my voice laced with deep sorrow, and the notes of my sarod expressed the depth of the yearning.

"On the days, on the nights, dreaming of you," I let my voice tremble, blending vulnerability and hopefulness.

My fingers moved across the strings. The sarod's resonant tones filled the carriage, complementing my voice in perfect harmony.

"Are you a witch, my love? Who has cast a spell?" I mused, letting the question hang in the air.

I made the sarod slightly rise in intensity to capture the allure of the lover, allowing each note to hold a hint of magic.

"The scent of your breath and the honey of your voice," I let admiration lace my voice and with the sarod, I captured the sweetness and intoxication of lyrics with delicate melodies.

My voice continued to utter every word with passion, while my fingers moved with perfect grace, building the intensity.

"Oh tender love, you leave me breathless," My voice soared, pouring forth love. The union of my voice and the instrument created a captivating harmony, filling my surroundings with raw emotion.

The song reached its peak, expressing the joy and vulnerability of a person who wasn't me. With a heartfelt note, I concluded the song, and the echoes faded away. I beheld her countenance, aglow with a beaming smile.

"Not bad! Who taught you how to play so well?"

"The most beautiful person I've ever met," I said, expressing my genuine admiration. I was taken aback by the intensity and truthfulness of my emotions. My eyes reflected sincerity, and my heart raced like an untamed horse.

"How long have you known this person?" She asked.

"A year." I whispered.

"A year." She mused. "A year is too short to fall in love, when words are not exchanged," There was sadness to her tone as she continued. "Most claim to know of true love, but only few have felt it."