The Train and the Violin

Have I ever been that crazy?  Is it the right thing to do now?

Just five minutes ago I was asleep. I could never sleep on trains before but I am so sleep deprived that my body decided to break its rules and succumb to the mental and physical exhaustion of the past few days, in fact, the past few weeks. My life has been like one continuous day, just starting then breaking and starting all over again. I guess that’s what happens when you decide to leave your hometown and move out, to the world. To take your place in the big city and take your shot at greatness, in the end, isn’t that what all humans are seeking?

I just had no idea it would be that hard to leave home for the first time, especially when your life has been great there. Don’t get me wrong, I could not wait to get out of my parents’ town and take some distance, but who am I to deny that they gave me a great life, they’ve been friends in friendless times and their words shaped variable portions of my opinions whether I like it or not. It is not easy at all to leave the comfort zone. Such a beautiful routine, all the way through school and college and practicing violin through it all. Playing for the small circle of family and friends, and sometimes just for myself. Even at the hardest times of business school, the violin had to echo every night from my room to the open air, it has always been my way of announcing myself to the world beyond this town. The world I longed to be a part of so much.

And that job in business I finally got without even trying was a surprise. Just the one I needed to start the journey and get out of this slow time, I couldn’t believe it when I got the letter. My dad couldn’t believe it too; he always thought that business was not for me, not because I was not capable, just because I did not want it badly enough and I wanted my violin more at all times. To him that was not enough, to everyone else but me, that was never enough. And my mother was happy too, but her smile came from behind a veil of tears and I knew her first concern was her little girl flying out of the cozy nest she had so carefully built around her. If I was a mother, I would have probably felt the same, but it is not enough to hold me back.

I refused to let my fear of a new world, a life of my own, hinder the opportunity presented to me. So I rushed into accepting the job and in a fortnight I was on my way to the train station with a brown old handbag and my black violin box.

I stared at the clock on the wall for an hour, sitting on the floor and waiting for my train to arrive. People coming and going all around me, but I did not notice them much, like I was in a world of my own and all what was there is that clock, changing minutes so slowly. I am still not over my father’s pat on the shoulder and my mother’s tears when she hugged me. Not to mention my friends who came to say goodbye, friends that I have spent every day of my life with, shared every little thought with, they are going to leave such a hole inside me. But I will fill it soon, with working hard, getting a new place, walking down busy streets and coffee in the morning with hip hop beats in the background, just like the movies.

‘’Just get past the train ride, and I’ll buy you candy’’ I said to myself.

Candy was my little nickname for violin, because since I was young the rapture I got from playing made me feel like my soul is eating the most delicious candy in the world, fancy, pure and colorful. I didn’t wait for the train to come, let alone for it to arrive to the city. I could not breathe, just staring as the minutes slowly change, and as my life changes with it, feeling like I should be changing too somehow, I should start to feel like I want this job now, I should be forgetting the violin beside me on the floor and this dream of an opera house full of people with changed souls because of my music. This dream should be dying by now; I should want to change the world some other way, by a career in business.

I had to take it out of there, I couldn’t breathe, and I knew it will help me.

And I did, I took it out and I started to play. That hit of the first cord, it relaxes every muscle in my body except my neck’s, my arms’ and my fingers’, they’re more active than ever, like a soldier in full attention and it fills my soul with this first wave. I can not explain it, but a wave comes after another and it just brings me to close my eyes and it takes me away, into myself or to another world. It is like a soothing fire that surrounds me inside out and little by little, it opens up my lungs and allows me to breathe.

I did not need to play for long to sooth myself and return to the world of the living. When I opened my eyes and looked around me, the world was still as alive as it was before. People are still coming and going, luggage carts still passing me by, metal chains of steal still clinging and ringing like annoying bells and only a few minutes have passed since I last checked the clock. Only the floor of the violin box was not the same, it was covered with glistening silver coins, I took another look around me and noticed the lady standing a few meters away with a smile on her face and an encouraging nod. Something triumphed over every other emotion and thought inside me and it brought me to smile back and thank her with a nod in return.

‘’Did I just give my first professional performance? A street performer is still a performer’’ I looked at the silver coins in the box in disbelief. I picked them up, counted them, as happy as a human can get. It wasn’t a lot of money, enough to buy a sandwich at most. Some people must have given me their change because they thought I was poor and I needed it and some others must have liked my music, but this money as little as it may be felt like it was mine. And either way, my music must have provoked some instinct of kindness in them. I have never felt more proud of myself, not even when I graduated first in my class, not even when I got this high-paid job. So I went and got the cheapest, greasiest and most delicious tuna sandwich I have ever tasted.

A while later the train had arrived and I am in my cabin, listening to music and staring out of the window. The sandwich is no longer in my hands, the violin is sound asleep in its box, and the colorful taste of candy in my soul started to get tainted by questions and black dots of doubt about what I want to do with my life, where my future is going and will it ever make me happy. I did not want to lose this profound joy but somehow it was still disappearing into me and lots of ghosts were taking its place. So I raised the volume to the maximum, to drown my own voice.

‘’Just get past the train ride, and I’ll buy you candy’’ I told myself like a mother tells her terrified kid in a doctor’s office.

Soon after the train had moved I fell asleep with only this sentence in my mind, and I do not know how long it has been, but I woke up to the sound of the woman across from me crunching and devouring piles of chips. I looked outside the window, rails, desert, few trees and bushes, few rest houses, still another hour till we arrive to the station. I threw my head back on the neck rest and the same sentence was still playing over and over, trying to keep me in my place.

‘’I’ll buy you candy? Well, let the candy buy itself some candy’’ frustrated by my own sound, I finally screamed at myself.

I am not afraid; I refuse to tell myself that I’m rethinking this decision because of fear. I am just unhappy with it. This train will not take me to a new life, only a new place and it won’t be my place, wherever the violin is, that’s my place.  It will not be my dream, not my life, certainly not my will. But what choice do I have? I am already moving, already on my way from the meek town that was trying to tame my wildest dream to the wildest city that will try to devour it whole. All of a sudden my soul is awake, and it’s rebelling on me and I can not hold it back from seeking happiness. But what do I have to do? what is my other choice? jump from the train while it’s moving?

Have I ever been that crazy?  Is it the right thing to do now?

I stand at the open door of the train, with only the black box in my hand, inside it the only thing I need to feel alive rather than survive… my violin.

The hot air washes over my face and pushes me back inward but I hold on to the sides of the door, I will not return to my cabin. Real insanity would be to go back and start a life that is not meant for me.What will my mother think if I don’t arrive in time and call her? What will my friends say? I might not see them again. I guess I will let them know I’m alright and that is enough for now. My father will be the most disappointed, but I can only hope he will understand someday. I can not let the violin rust in that black box, I can not let myself rust inside me as well. It’s either to take the leap now, or to take the leap never.

‘’ma’am, please return to your cabin’’

‘’No, I said I will not return to my cabin’’ I shouted over the air rushing towards me and into the train.

I took a deep breath and then I jumped. I can tell it’s the best decision I have ever taken already.