PIANO CONCERTO NO.

2
The regular tick of the metronome placed on the piano came back to Kirtan as if from a far distance. He had blanked out again,these bouts were increasing in frequency. his tutor,a man of medium build,with hair flecked with grey was watching out with an attitude of indifference at the traffic moving along the roads of marine drive. Rachmaninoff was one of the last great romantic composers.His life was full of hardships,he was criticized ,he was slandered, and he was mentally ill. The piano concerto no. 2 is one of his greatest works , and you shame him by playing like this. The tutor drawled out. place it out. The tutor snapped. kirtan had to place out his palms facing downward, not even flinching when his tutor raised his wooden stick to rap his knuckles.this ritual had started when he was six, when he got his first scale wrong. The first time it had happened he went back home crying, practiced till he got his tutors approval. His tutor never appreciated him ,he just gave him a nod of contentment or a rare smile. It was almost midnight, and he had a few more hours for his recital. He had been practicing this piece for the past three months, and his tutor thought he hadnt quite grabbed the essence of it.start again.his tutor motioned towards the piano. the opening movement begins with a series of bell like tollings,which builds up in tension as it progresses.after the first 9 bars, his tutor motioned him to stop. the bell like tolling should sound as if coming from afar, not jarring! his tutor exclaimed.place it out, again. Kirtan placed out his palm, waiting for the rapping to be over with. His tutor rapped over his knuckles, slightly cutting the webbing between his fingers.Kirtans eyes were moist with tears, but he wouldnt show himself to be weak in front of him. play it again.his tutor commanded him.

Kirtan positioned himself, toying with the damper pedal.he tried to compose himself.his breathing was slightly heavy. Im waiting, maestro. the tutor said,his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The metronome slightly wobbled before it fell on to the wooden floor. It gave a resounding crash against the quiet of the moonlit night. The tutor was perplexed, and could not comprehend on how the metronome could fall. Another reverberating crash of the various paintings behind him made him jump from his seat. He looked back at kirtan only to be scared out of his wits. Kirtans eyes were flitting, fluttering and he jerked his hands and legs in an irregular motion.the tutor could see the whites of his eyes as kirtan gaped up at the ceiling. His seat pushed back on its own, and some unknown force dragged him around in small circles. His feet were inches from the ground barely touching the floor. He shot towards the long French window and plunged down towards his death,four storeys below. His fall was retarded just before he hit the ground,but still he felt the pain coursing through his body.his face was bloodied,and he could feel a throbbing sensation in his head. He got up and steadied himself with only one single thought in his mind. Run. He ran along the deserted streets,not knowing where are why he was running.a car screeched to a halt in front of him,and the back door opened to reveal an old man with kind eyes smile at him. took you a long time to flower, eh?he said as he shifted over from his place to another seat to let kirtan come in. Kirtans breathing was laboured,as he stared back at the old man.

come with me , son.lets just say that there are..many more like you.the old man looked at him with those big kind eyes. Kirtan got inside the car,not knowing where it would take him to. he would rather be at any other place than in the streets of marine drive,it had too many bad memories.