High Strung

“Learning is one of the best ways of staying young,” said one of those corporate types and I agree.

About a month back I bought a guitar. I had a void to fill. A void created after I finally decided that I should really stop going to the dance classes to learn, what else, Bollywood freestyle. In retrospect, I may have taken the word ‘freestyle’ too seriously. In the one month that I’d been to the dance class, I learned to coil and recoil – sometimes very hilariously – to 1.42 seconds of a 5 minute song.

It reminded me of another such decision in my life when provoked by a similar streak of irrational ambition, I had joined Karate classes. The stern instructor, exasperated by my complete non-cooperation with “breathing from my stomach,” made me run several rounds of the playground. Yet I could only breathe through my nose; and after a few rounds, at best through my mouth.         

So you see why there was a void. My creative instincts were now on the lookout for my next embarrassing misadventure. Learning guitar struck the right chord. So I bought one, on a late Sunday evening; a time in the week when such decisions are made. It’s not the decision but the circumstances, like when one is pushed to the edge of a cliff.

But I am happy to report that apart from one stray incident – when my neutral neighbourhood Alsatian dog started barking as I strummed in the balcony, causing me to stop strumming – it has been a very gratifying decision. So much better than breathing from the stomach.

I am learning a few riffs and my fingers are moving quite nicely. I like it now, but the challenge is to continue like this. I have realised this; the more you do it the better you become at it. And the rewards are not in small increments but in surprisingly sudden leaps. It would surely help if you had another person to practice with. The best time to practice and play is in the night, when the silence so deeply complements the sound.