Music

And so it was that the student, and Baul was his name, came in to the lesson with a guitar one day. “I would like to sing you a song, O Tao,” he said, “I have written it myself.”

“I would love to hear you,” the Tao said, encouragingly, “Please go on.”

The student sang a wonderful song, full of sweet melody that rose and fell like gentle waves driven by the evening sea breeze. The notes, and there were many of them, wafted on the air, looking for petals of the mind to gently sit on. The voice, enchanting and melancholy at the same time, communed with the soul. Through it all was the captivating sound of the guitar, that flowed effortlessly from his hand.

When it was over, there was silence. And then there was applause.

Amazing,” the Tao said, as the applause died down. And then: “You have reached your inner self and touched it with music. You do not need me any more. Go ahead and spread the harmony, with which you enthralled us today, among others. That would be your calling.”

So the student left on his way. And so it was.

Epilogue: Circa 2014. The student now lives comfortably in the suburbs. He caresses his Fender Stratocaster on Saturdays.