There was
a young musician
in search of
the greatest melody.
He had heard that
it could only
be received.
It passed
from one musician
to another
across generations.
So he devoted
his life
to the search.
He traveled.
Studied under
celebrated masters.
Learned every
rare instrument
he could find.
Yet after
every performance,
a quiet disappointment
remained.
The melody he sought
was never there.
Years passed.
One autumn evening,
music drew him
into a village.
Beneath a tree
sat an old man.
His instrument
was worn.
Only a handful
of people stopped
to listen.
The young musician
paused.
The music was
pleasant,
but nothing
extraordinary.
He moved on.
Years later,
in another town,
he saw
the same old man.
Again
he listened briefly.
Again
he moved on.
The same thing
happened many times
over the years.
Near a mountain road.
By the sea.
In the corner
of a market.
In the rain.
In the heat
of summer.
Once when
he was certain
he had nearly
found the melody.
Once when he no longer
expected to find
it at all.
Always playing.
Always unnoticed.
Eventually age
found him.
His travels
grew slower.
His search
grew quieter.
One winter evening,
he arrived
in an unfamiliar place.
Snow fell softly.
Beneath a bare tree
sat the same old man.
Only now his hands
trembled with age.
The musician, no longer
young himself, approached
and sat beside him.
For a long while
neither spoke.
The old man
continued to play.
The notes were simple.
Painfully simple.
At last
the music ended.
Silence settled.
Then the old man asked,
\u201cAre you still searching?\u201d
\u201cYes,\u201d
replied the musician.
\u201cI have searched
my entire life.\u201d
The old man nodded.
\u201cAnd have you found
the melody?\u201d
The musician
lowered his eyes.
\u201cNo.\u201d
For a time,
neither spoke.
Then the old man
placed the instrument
into the musician\u2019s hands.
The musician stared
at him.
\u201cI don\u2019t understand.\u201d
The old man smiled.
\u201cNeither did I.\u201d
The musician looked up.
For the first time,
he saw what had
always been there.
Not greatness.
Not brilliance.
Only recognition.
As though every encounter
he had forgotten
had been remembered
by another.
The snow drifted
silently between them.
The musician thought
of all the years
behind him.
The teachers.
The endless search.
And the old man,
always there.
\u201cWhy me?\u201d he asked.
The old man looked at him
for a long moment.
Then he answered.
\u201cBecause you never
stopped listening.\u201d
The musician looked down
at the instrument.
\u201cWhat is the melody?\u201d
he whispered.
A faint smile crossed
the old man\u2019s face.
\u201cIt was never
mine to keep.\u201d
\u201cOnly
mine to carry.\u201d
He rose and
walked away
into the snow.
The musician watched
until the old man
disappeared.
Then he sat alone
beneath the tree.
The instrument rested
quietly in his lap.
For a long while
he did not play.
He simply listened.
And somewhere
within the silence,
he began to hear
the first notes.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
There wasa young musicianin search ofthe greatest melody.He had heard thatit could onlybe received.It passedfrom one musicianto anotheracross generations.So he devotedhis lifeto the search.He traveled.Studied undercelebrated masters.Learned everyrare instrumenthe could find.Yet afterevery performance,a quiet disappointmentremained.The melody he soughtwas never there.Years passed.One autumn evening,music drew himinto a village.Beneath a treesat an old man.His instrumentwas worn.Only a […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3208,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[9],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3205","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-anagnorisis"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/manojsahi.com\/kumar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3205","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/manojsahi.com\/kumar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/manojsahi.com\/kumar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/manojsahi.com\/kumar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/manojsahi.com\/kumar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3205"}],"version-history":[{"count":17,"href":"https:\/\/manojsahi.com\/kumar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3205\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3720,"href":"https:\/\/manojsahi.com\/kumar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3205\/revisions\/3720"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/manojsahi.com\/kumar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3208"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/manojsahi.com\/kumar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3205"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/manojsahi.com\/kumar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3205"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/manojsahi.com\/kumar\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3205"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}