The magic within those black and white keys.

( This is a recollection of my first piano recital. It was back in the year 2007 and I was 12. )



"... mezzo forte, pianissimo, allegretto..."

"Nivedit."

"... forte! Fortissimo! Crescendo!.."

"Nivedit! That's enough practice for today, champ."

I looked up from the notes. Sir was looking down at me with a smile. That 63 year old teacher almost looked like a proud father then.

"Am I playing it right, sir?"

"Perfectly. I think you should do a solo recital on the concert."

Wait. Concert?

"We're having a concert three weeks from now. And I want you to play a piece on the piano. I'll talk to your parents about it later on."

"Are.. are you sure? I've never played on a grand piano before."

Sir smiled.

"A very few people have, and that's why you must. Besides I'll fix up a practice session for you this weekend."

"Uh, okay. Should I play Annie's Song?"

" How about Arabesque? That's a delightful tune, and I think you play it really well."

"Okay then. I'll see you at practice then.Good day sir."

About three days later, I was walking into the Mazda hall, a little anxious, a little excited. When my eyes fell on the grand piano on the stage, a magnificent sight to behold indeed, I was awed.

"WHOA!"

Sir laughed softly. "Yes, that's the usual reaction. Let's practice now."

Have you played a grand before? Or seen someone play one in concert? Well let me tell you, if you're used to an upright piano, then you need to practice a lot on the grand to do justice to your piece.
It took me 8 days, but finally I got the hang of it. Sir was always there, giving suggestions, correcting me. If my fingers slouched he would take a pointer and gently push my hands up. Damn, I had to admit. You could never enjoy the beauty of piano if you didn't play on a grand.

The day of the concert finally dawned, and I felt like I was sick to the core. Agreed, I had practiced a lot on the piano. Agreed, I had been up on stage a lot of times for drama recitals and debate competitions. But combine the two together, and you would give me a nervous breakdown.

The hall was jam-packed, mainly by the parents of the students of my piano teacher's institute. All of them were smiling,  taking pictures, waving out to their kids. My parents caught my eye and gave me a thumbs up, before I was led away along with everybody else.

Backstage, I could hardly concentrate. On one hand was the ominous silence on the stage, broken only when somebody would play something, people would applaud, and the compere would announce the next performer. And on the other hand was my own piece, which I was trying to focus on.

After a scintillating performance of Auld Lang Syne by the band, the compere came upon stage.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, Nivedit Majumdar shall play Burgmuller's Arabesque!"

Oh boy. That was me. I came up on stage, took a nervous bow to the audence, and sat at the grand.

"...it's gonna be okay. it's gonna be okay. it's gonna be okay..."
Reciting this mantra kind of pacified my anxiety, but I was pretty much freaked out.
But just then I saw sir on the other side of the stage, smiling at me and signalling me to start off.

And that changed everything.

The keys could not have been more familiar, the pedals couldn't have been more friendly. Suddenly it was all so easy. I actually enjoyed myself and was humming the song too.

It was as if my fingers were telling me to relax and enjoy the tune which they were playing for me. And by God, I could never have been more at ease with myself.

I ended the piece on a perfectly executed forte, and the audience burst into applause.

As I went to take my bow, I couldn't help but smile. I smiled at my teacher. I smiled at the audience. I smiled at myself.

Mezzo-forte. Pianissimo. Allegretto.

At that moment, the only Italian word that came to my mind was surprisingly, not a piano term.

It was Grazie.