The Piano really is quite a wonderful instrument. Every now and again when there’s nothing to do, I sit at MY piano and play out my tunes, I say my because I take pride that I am the only one in my immediate family who can play the piano so it’s the only thing in my home that I can call my own and need not share. No doubt, I don’t play it well and I don’t like playing the piano for people.
I have been playing the piano since I was 4 years of age, I got started because my cousin who was 6 was performing for the entire family during one of our family gatherings and everyone was ignoring my jokes and singing acts to my utter disappointment and I was jealous so I told my mother, I want to play the piano. My cousin has since got a Masters in Music while I gave up at Grade 5 but that’s another issue altogether.
At the beginning I enjoyed my piano lessons, while my classmates had to content with just singing twinkle twinkle little star and mary had a little lamb, I could play it on the piano. But as I grew older, I realized I was not very good at the piano and I don’t like doing things which I can’t be the best at or at least good enough for people to go wah! Also, I didn’t like playing the classical music expected of us, my teacher would only teach me one non classical piece if I had practiced my 3 weekly classical pieces. Doesn’t that sound like an absolute bore? Also, I had to abide by the dainty mannerisms of a cultured pianist, no shorts during classes, no crossing of legs, no speaking above a certain level, have good posture when spoken to, always remember my refined greetings, pleases and thank yous. Gawds. Out of rebel, I did not utter a single word during my classes for 5 years from grade 3 to grade 5 and if I didn’t like something, I’d just cry. See, told you I was bad, I took 5 years to rise up 2 grades. It also helped that I was painfully shy.
So while the rest of the girls gushed about their latest boyband song they could tinker on the piano, I was wishing I was out in the sun playing catch or sports with the boys, by the time I had finished my classes, I’d rush home to find my neighbours were already dead tired to play any more games and laugh at the stupid dresses my mother made me wear. By the time I was in Grade 5, I had just given up on my practices to the utter disappointment of my mother, so she and my teacher came up with a torture plan. I had to go down after school 3 times a week and practice in front of the people at Mcdonalds of course they couldn’t hear me, but they could see me. So there I was, locked in a room with a piano, non sound proofed walls and a glass window which people peered into like an exhibit. So just play the stupid piano la. I can’t remember how long this went on for but One Day, I couldn’t take it anymore, I just cried, ran out of the school and told my mum, I’m not playing the piano anymore and used concentrating on my O levels as the reason, not knowing my parents were paying about 300 a week for my lessons. My mum and I had countless arguments with her concluding statement of “One day, you’ll thank me for my making you learn how to play the piano.”
After I had given up playing the piano, I refused to look or touch the piano, listen to music and conjured a hatred for the bloody thing and all things musical. Eg, if a person were to be playing a piano at a café, I’d walk out and go shop instead. I was 16. For 2 years my piano just sat there collected dust, my mother decorated it lace and pretty pictures to disguise what a mistake it was and make it seem less than a white elephant btw, my piano’s black. At 18, after a really bad day at school, I think it was because of a boy. I was mopping about at home, crying my heart out, the tv wasn’t helping, the computer wasn’t helping, food wasn’t helping. So I just sat at my piano, familiarizing myself with my past I chose to erase. I started playing the songs I like, the simple Disney ones and slowly, the anger passed. I played my piano for 5 hours that afternoon. My mum came out, smiled and said “it’s nice to hear music in the house again” and went back to her room.
So nowadays, I still don’t play the piano everyday. I only play it when I’m very sad, down and stressed, like if I had a bad day, if my papa’s sick, if I heard someone say something nasty about me or if someone insulted me or if no one calls me that day or if I’m nervous or even after a sad movie, it cures me more than anyone’s words can say and I believe the piano is the best to play sad love songs on. It helps emphasize the emotion I’m feeling and have a opposing effect, maybe its something to do with climaxes like in economics, maybe it’s the sound of the piano keys which to me sounds like light raindrops on a cold dreary day. And I always play the same old love songs, I don’t play it fantastically well but I play it for me and the tune is there. No one in the house disturbs me when I play the piano because they know if they say something, I’ll stop immediately, sometimes they listen from the dinner table but I think the piano makes people peaceful because after I’m done, most of the household is sleeping. So I guess my mum was right. I don’t regret learning the piano. Thanks Mum. Happy Birthday!
