Many years ago while walking through a village in Vasai I suddenly stopped and held the arm of my friend who was walking alongside, “Listen!” I said and we both stopped and listened. I saw his face grow from curiosity to enlightenment, “Isn’t it beautiful!” I whispered and he nodded.
It was the sound of the wind gently rustling the leaves of a tree.
There were many trees in that village and as we walked there was not a word between us as the breeze played with the leaves and created an atmosphere so divine I thought I was in heaven.
“This is where I’d like to live!” I told my friend, and he nodded, “a place where no radio or music system will ever have to compete for my attention as I listen day and night to such heavenly melody.
“Music of the gods!” said my friend and I nodded.
That was many moons ago, and like many other friendships we didn’t meet for years, but kept in touch, till one day I heard he was in town.
“Where are you living now?” he asked me over the phone.
“Same place,” I said, “but why d’you ask?”
“Thought you must have shifted to that place beneath the trees.”
“Not with what a writer makes!” I said sadly, “but come over!”
He came over one morning and I asked him whether he’d mind reading for awhile till I completed my writing, he nodded and I went into my study to finish my column for the day.
“Put some music for him,” I told my maid a little later.
“He doesn’t want any,” she said looking at me strangely, “he’s just sitting sort of still! Is he okay?”
I finished writing and went over to where he sat, he hardly noticed me as I sat down. “Hey!” I said.
“Ssssshhhh!” he whispered, “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“What?” I asked.
“Listen,” he said.
I sat still and listened and slowly heard the most beautiful music coming through my own window into my own room; it was the sound of the breeze rustling through the trees.
“You had it right here!” he said.
“And I didn’t know,” I said, and then we both went sort of quiet as another gust of wind brought in the symphony outside.
It needed someone else to show me that what I longed for; dreamt of and that my retirement plan was right here, besides me.
I smile as I write this piece because just outside I hear the leaves laughing joyously at me for listening to something I’d been deaf to hear, ‘Ah Bob!” I hear a voice saying from far above, “Diamonds! I provide in your own backyard..!’

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