The First Note

I love my home, my parents are doctors, so like a clinic we mostly try to keep things neat and tidy. We even have maids to ensure the house is clean always. Well that's the second reason why I love my home. 

I feel proud to say the first reason are the walls of our place. Now you might think new paint may be the reason, and now you might've realised my answer is no. I remember watching a history documentary of some royals,and like huge walls of royal beginnings, Our walls have memories too.

I love how things turned from aged black and white Polaroids to colored and bright nows. Among our history of healers in the family, there's an isolated story which I love. My father once told this to me one night when I couldn't sleep. 

"We had a pianist in our family . Your grandmother!", He said. I made a face, amazed, she was a nurse. He smiled. 

" She faced a lot as a child. Her father didn't facilitate her family enough. In order to support the family she became an incharge of the finances. She found a job, it was in a government school as a helper. She left that job with a dream.

One day, after many years my father got to know about it. He brought an old piano back from his village to gift her. I still remember how tears ran down her pale cheeks, how her fragile hands placed shaky fingers on it. The 40 year old woman in front of me played the first note in a state of euphoria on her death bed the first time. From that day till the day she died, she learned the instrument. 

After her, One day my devastated father replaced a picture on the wall."

Among the numerous tales we have on the 'Lasts' I'm glad somewhere people remember the 'Firsts'. The First feeling, that beautiful memory of a person's life. I guess only my grandmother and the ones living the firsts could get that. I hope somewhere I'm building my firsts, powering myself so that I can be strong enough to hold that emotion in me forever.

There's a beautiful thought placed behind that simple Polaroid with a moving story.

You are what you love!

By Kratika Agarwal ( The short story above is fragment of my imagination only)