A Broken Guitar!

A couple of years before I started learning music. Luckily I got to keep a friend's used guitar. I decided to give it a chance to learn it. Learning this new instrument was entirely a new start for me. Getting to know about music through the guitar was a good experience. I started digging out tutorials on my own. Within a few days, I fell in love with this instrument. Up to a certain level I got to manage on my own to learn it. I realized I can't progress further on my own and that I have to join a class. I joined a class. But something was missing. I wanted my own guitar. I had no money to buy it. I borrowed money from a friend and bought a brand new guitar for myself.

Pluto, Glossy Black, Center acoustic, was my new love! Within no time I progressed in playing it and now I was no more a beginner.

Coming from the office, sitting on the terrace and playing that magical guitar was my new hobby. The music coming from those strings used to fill every inch of my soul and it was never enough for me. I was not perfect in playing it, I used to play it randomly but it had no complaints against me. How could it have complaints? It was just an inanimate thing! But for me, it was more than that. It was a partner of bad times, it was a friend at happy moments and it was a stress reliever for me. It never let me feel alone when it was around.

Time moved on. I was not getting much time to play guitar frequently. Now things were little changed. I had more things to look at, rather than playing the guitar. But that doesn't mean I was away from it. Instead of listening to those strings(off course in random way) frequently, I used to take it in my hands rarely. Although, whenever I had feelings about it I used to play it. Once in while I used to just open it and clean it. It was already a year since I bought it but it was still like new. I had been taking its care all the time.

There was a bond with that instrument. My very first guitar, friend of my good and bad times and a love which i might not explain in words.

Until yesterday it was all good. Today she broke my guitar into pieces, for some irrelevant reason, when I was not at home. I came home and saw the state it was in. The moment I saw it, tears rolled down my eyes. I was quite for a long time. That state of my guitar was hurting me a lot.

Why she had chosen only the guitar to break? Why she dint think about my love for it? How easy it might have had for her to just bang it on the ground before it broke into peace.?

I am sleepless tonight.!