Personal Narrative: Musi Music

Looking around with wide eyes, I was cornered. There was no escape; I had led myself straight into a trap and there was no way out. How could I even have expected to learn how to play the violin in a summer, when my classmates had been playing for at least two years? I played softly, cringing at the scratchy squeaks my violin emitted and wondering what I could possibly be doing in a room filled with sixth graders who, to me, seemed better than any Carnegie Hall performer. Six years ago, I was an intimidated beginner violinist, surrounded by peers who could read music, which to me, was an impossible feat. I never thought that I would continue playing the violin, for I was afraid. I always strive to be the best in anything that I do, be it playing an instrument, working on an assignment, or playing a sport. So why would I continue playing, when I was hopelessly behind my peers? To this day, I wonder what would have happened if I didn’t continue to play the violin.
Music had been a part of my soul from the beginning.
Starting at three years old, I would perform at yearly Indian community functions, mouthing the lyrics as I executed the choreography, the steady rhythm of the drums encouraging me. I recall long drives in the family car, the hum of the engine and rhythm of the Bollywood songs lulling me to sleep with a smile on my face. I had always appreciated music, but when I began to play the violin, my entire perspective changed. While listening to the radio, I began to notice the different instruments playing, and the nuances in tone which indicated the climax of the song. I started to memorize the lyrics to my favorite songs, so that whenever they came on the radio, I could belt out the words eagerly. In movies and TV shows, I realized the importance of the haunting music during a particularly poignant moment. Music had opened my eyes to the beautiful and delicate details of the world, and gave me stubborn
streak.
Music allowed me to see the subtle nuances in the ordinary, and allowed me to apply my newfound observant nature to every part of my life. I crafted my opinion about anything and everything, always on the lookout for revealing intricacies. I approach every challenge attentively and aware of every detail, whether it be for my student’s worksheet or my gold nanoparticle cancer research.
When I finally got my license, I quickly realized the freedom I had in the car. As soon as I turned on the car, the radio would be turned on, and I would start shamelessly belting out the lyrics, bobbing my head at stoplights. I’m not an exceptional violinist by any means; when I entered the prestigious advanced orchestra at my high school, I struggled, trying to keep up with the others. Every time I feel frustrated, however, I think back to my days as a hopelessly lost beginner. If that girl could glean so much from music and improve tenfold through sheer determination, then anything is possible if I devote myself. No matter the importance, I can