Musical memories

 

crook-building

The girls sat lazily in the whitsun by the poolside after an extremely energetic swimming afternoon and wished the castle footman would return soon with the lemonade. Pam turned to her friend Parineeti and raised a quizzical brow as she asked – “Did you enjoy your time here?”

“Yes, the songs though are very different from the ones I am used to, though it reminded me of the music season back home.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“Margazhi Utsavam, an annual musical festival of sorts, draws all musicians and singers to participate like moths to flame.”

“I must come and watch it this year!”

Written for Friday Fictioneers for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Author’s note: I deliberately chose to write a non-dramatic tale for this week’s prompt and add a bit of local flavour. Margazhi Maha Utsavam, is a celebration of carnatic music generally held in the December month of every year. This is a music form distinct in style from hindustani music which is popular in north India. Popular folklore associates carnatic music with divine origin and was patronized by the south Indian kings for centuries before the advent of British in India. An avid music practitioner and veena instrumentalist myself, I can attest to the soothing properties of carnatic music 🙂

27 comments

  1. Cross-cultural affiliations like this one are so heart warming. Love the lazy-laid back atmosphere you have created amidst a friendship that is keen to explore alongside each other.

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  2. Nice one. Nothing like music to get people together. I type this while listening to George Harrison’s My Sweet Lord. George Harrison’s discovery of Indian music led to the Beatles releasing several Indian-inspired songs.

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  3. Nice and calm, yet a good story which shows us a slice in the lives of the two girls. They could be any two girls anywhere in the world. Reminds me of how childhood should be carefree and not ‘dramatic.’ You might want to rework the first sentence as you have three prepositional phrases in a row. By the time I got to the last one ‘after an extremely energetic swimming afternoon,’ I had lost the flow of the story. I quickly picked it back up and enjoyed the story.

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