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Ah! The fine tunes of a violin. She sat and practiced, tweaking and re-tweaking each note many a times; but not getting it right. Maybe it was the lack of rosin and she rubbed the resin on the bow. Her delicate arms would run and rub, but never doing as good a job as her master. When he did it, a white smoke almost engulfed the violin bow. She took the bow and started practicing again; checking with her notes again and again. But still the perfection she desired for was as elusive as before.

She was disheartened. Practicing and more practicing and even more practicing had not smoothened out her notes, especially the high ones. She looked up, distress on her brow; for she felt as if she were ramming her favorite instrument on the floor and then stamping it.

Her hair tied up in a bun, high on her head; had come loose. She put down her violin and bow. She kept them carefully in the box and let her hair down. She went out into the garden; barefoot of course. She wanted to feel the breeze in her hair; feel the crunch of gravel under her feet; feel the sweet smell of roses and jasmine tickle her nose. She wanted to escape her frustration and this was her way. She saw a rose in full bloom. She knelt down to take a closer look; but her attention drifted to a spider close by; busy building its web.

Meticulously it went on and around; its yarn shimmering in the sun. The playful breeze at times would rock the web, making the spider’s job hard; but it did need the web. He forged on completing the job. She smelt the rose and then smiled thoughtfully.

She walked on and a sparrow flew overhead. The mango tree was in full bloom and even a few tender mangoes hung from it. They beckoned her. She jumped, trying to pluck one; but she couldn’t reach them. She then climbed up the tree, to one of the lower branches. She then plucked one with satisfaction. She sat on the branch with her legs down, swinging and swaying while she munched on the mango. She killed a mosquito which dared to sit on her arm, dared it in broad daylight. A very daring parasite that got killed… a devilish smirk played at her lips.

She listened to the songbirds as they chirped to one another and saw the squirrels run up and down the trees. She was getting a clear view from that branch; and she enjoyed it in the shade and the breeze. She even saw a snake slither into the thickets. She reminded herself to warn her parents. Ah! A perfect tender mango on a perfectly lively day. She however did miss the salt crystals which increased the taste many times over. But it was still worth the climb. She jumped off the tree with a content grin that matched the summer sun in its brilliance. She ran into the house; cool and welcoming. The mud tiles glistened for they’d just been cleaned. She smelt the aroma drifting from the kitchen. Her mother was busy and her stomach gave a growl. But she had something more important in her mind than food. She ran into her room and almost flung open her violin box.

Outside in the garden, the sun shone, the birds chirped, the flowers swayed in the breeze and every organism stayed mesmerized as the sounds of a violin pure in melody and spirit danced on in the air…