My violin

Dearest Dada,

Two days back, a someone mentioned about you.
Your name to be exact.
Well, i felt this isn't the name for you man.
This very blog should be melancholy,so well,
i got you a BEAUTIFUL name.

From today on, i shall call you "Dew" or "Dewy".
I need not explain the meaning of "dew" but i can tell you,
it really describes the whole bloggie.

Today, i woke up feeling better.
As usual, i will start off my day by playing some musical piece on the keyboard.
As i switch the playing mode to "viola",
the memories when i was only 7 years of age came.

I loved my violin alot.
I remembered how punctual i was for the lessons.
And nevertheless, my teacher likes me alot.

How hurt was i to see when my siblings actually took my violin as a toy.
How hurt was i to see the bow broken in my brothers' hands.
How hurt was i to see the violin weeping for help.
How helpless i stood there watching my violin torn apart.

I attended violin lessons till the age of 8 as my teacher left for good.

Again, today, i took out that dusty case and started to reflect on the past.
I remembered how i polished that violin case, yet now,
its all covered with dust.
It brought me musical dreams , musical life yet i was the one who,
destroyed the wonders and beauties in it.

I looked at this sorrowful violin,
looked at the terrible state it is at,now.
I couldn't help but to want to give life to it again,but,
it was too late,
he has rested in his coffin for the past 9 years.

It is dead.
There goes my musical memories.
I long for another set but maybe i shouldn't have.