SOMEWHERE in my youth, I was called to play the flute at a grand function. To my surprise the desired music did not come from the pipe. The sounds that came out were shrill and sharp wails. I looked closer at the beautiful flute and discovered it had developed a fine crack. Outwardly it still looked fine but could no longer produce good music.
Those days there were no quick fix glues, and with a slow drying gum, I closed the crack together and tied it tight with a string. Later when I opened it, the crack had closed and the flute made good melody again.
As I recollect that particular incident, I realize the experience I underwent is something many go through. Relying on just beautiful bodies and pretty faces we try to go through life till when the time comes to make good music, as when crisis hits, we produce a ghastly sound. A little delving shows cracks that were not visible.
How often I see glamorous weddings where lakhs of rupees are spent. The couple seem made for each other, one so pretty and the other the last word in masculinity. A few months down the line and the cracks show.
So often I have heard of men of God who serve their Master faithfully in village and small town but when they are transferred to a big city, succumb to its charms and temptations. What crack of yearning was it that they never got over when they decided to serve God, that with the first taste of women or wealth they give up their calling and fall?
I went home that evening and repaired my flute. I had to open the crack wide, clean it, pour the healing glue, close it and tie it tight for twenty-four hours. It made good music again, sometimes I think it even sounded better than before!
Before you think of going to a psychiatrist or counselor and getting the crack in your flute looked into and mended, there’s another little story I’d like to repeat. I started with my flute didn’t I, and I’d like to end with another wonderful instrument: It was a bitterly cold day and a tramp had no place to lay his head, so he boldly asked for shelter at a big house. The owner was reluctant at first but finally allowed him to use the basement where all the junk and rubbish were dumped.
To the amazement of the residents next morning they heard sweet music coming from the same basement. They climbed down and found the tramp playing on a violin. It had been a broken violin they had dumped with the other rubbish, now it sounded breathtakingly divine.
The tramp smiled at them and said, “Many years ago, I made this instrument. If you can make something, you can also repair it when it is broken!” Your Maker my friend is the best mender..!
