When I was little i used to attend ballet classes with my friends. All of us were excited for the big day- the day we would perform infront of our parents. For me it was only my mum though. The big day- which was in fact one fine evening- came soon enough.
Before the show, we practised a few many times in the huge stage of the opera house where we would be performing later in the evening. There was a man with a grand piano next to the stage. Playing Beethoven's playful piano sonata the 'Hammerklevier' he started all over again whenever anyone made a mistake. All of our- my and thirty seven other little heads-attention kept on going to his magical fingers. We were so distracted! Our teacher then announced we could see him play only after dancing atleast once perfectly.
And we watched him play. He smiled and started, much seriously. One of my friends must have bent a little too low over the stage, because all of a sudden I heard her high pitched scream.
"Aiutamii!!" ( It's 'help mee!!' in Italian, hahah) .
I was standing right next to her, so I automatically tried to help her by holding her back from falling. But then, I lost my grip. Every thing happened so fast I don't even clearly remember everything! "Principe azzurro!" she cried! Somehow there he was -the pianist- bellow and caught my friend.That evening when we perormed in our golden tutus.Everybody said we were just like the fizzy bubbles in a champagne bottle. At that age I wondered whether that was good or bad. But by seeing the smiles I understood it must a compliment.
For the summer, I was sent to visit my dad in Perugia- a charming city in the green heart of Italy. During my stay I told dad about my ballet classes. I felt bad seeing the little interest he showed about this new hobby I had. I soon came back to the northern city of Italy where we lived. I noticed 'the pianist' had become my mum's friend. We went out for lunch one day. Mum, the pianist and I. All I remember was that I had a star shaped pizza! And, also his name was apparently Antonio... which didn't really matter to me. I knew him to be the 'principe azzurro' pianist.
You must be thinking what on earth is this 'principe azzurro'? If I literally translate it into English it's 'azure prince' but it is used to give the expression of a prince charming. Thinking of his looks, I can say his bright eyes and blonde hair suited him well. His good looking face mostly kept a serious expression, but a person who knows him well can say he has a wonderful sense of humour. If I had a crush on him I coul'd have said: his angellic pair of eyes were of the perfect shade of blue. But I wont say that! After all, he turned out to be the prince charming of my mother's life!
I might not have a crush on him, but I do admire the person he is. He's one of those people in this earth who keeps his surroundings lively and never lets anyone stay low. He has a wonderful sense of humour, as I said before. But most of all I admire his capability to make you feel good about yourself. He taught me to love being myself. In fact he taught me so many things! He was there when I learned to read. He was there sitting patiently, teaching me to tie laces. Cook pasta, ride bicycles, even sing a little bit of singing opera! He was there.
Did I mention he is full of surprises? I think not. Over the years I got used to his surprise gifts and unexpected trips to beautiful places. But let me tell you what shocked me the most. He recently donated sixty percent of is wealth to an organization for the less fortunate children.
"Cause after all, what would I do with the money?" He said to my mum, his eyes full of tears. My 'principe azzurro' has cancer.
