Wearing my viollette skirt and a weiss blouse holding a blaue umbrella, I walked past the village Chapel. I barely noticed anything on my way, neither did I realize the stubborn smile not wanting to leave my face and my ears listening to Henry absolutely without my permission.
Who is Henry?
An uninvited spare who has been glued to me on his toes. A chap who has arrived out of nowhere. A complete stranger whom I have no intention of knowing. But here, I have my eyes and ears so devout, so still, as if they do not belong to me anymore. My hands automatically raise themselves holding his and he drops my fingers from the top, making a pattern which if fallen on the grand Piano in the same pattern would produce the best music in the world!
When Henry begins his counseling speech, my eyes, ears and hands listen to him so devotionally as if he is a master of all, descended from God. They act as if they are receiving the worlds number 1 training.
I let them.
Months past, and I observed them get sharpened. I left the rest of my desires for which I needed them to act upon. I let them do as they like. I did carefully observe if Henry was spoiling them, being suspicious. He did not.
They are so fond of Henry. Its like they share so much with him, they spend hours together. They are always obedient to him. They get pretty close!
Whenever I sit in-front of the Ritmullers Grand Piano, I look into the music sheet. But, before I even begin reading the signatures, my hands are already on the keys. My eyes screen over the scales as if they have mastered them. My ears listen to the tempo and verify that its just perfect. My eyes, hands and ears are so much in sync! There’s hardly anything that I need to do to get them under control.
Astonished by this, I laid back. Rest of the hours I spent thinking endlessly. Who is Henry after all? From where did the forces come in? How is my body not even paying attention to my mind which is filled with other crap – of work, of hatred, of displeasure, of loneliness, depression…
I searched everywhere, until I stumbled upon this book. Below is the cover picture:
Henry Steinway? Oh, that’s you? You are not a stranger! you are not an intruder! You are Henry Steinway!!! The one who made Pianos in Germany and United States [Henry E. Steinway (February 15, 1797 – February 7, 1871)
All I did was scream out a big WOW! I mean, WOW!!
Well, below is what I play:
Isn’t it amazing?