“My best lovers were music maestros”
 India’s
diversity is as immense as the country is vast. She embraces a multitude
of different ethnic groups religions, customs, type of dress and
traditions. Her enormous wealth of art, music, and culture, her seasonal
feasts and festivals,
 and the land itself, give India a variety of colours that is intoxicating. It is in this beautiful country, in a city
in North India called Delhi, I was born.
The language here mainly is Hindi, where Hindustani music that
mesmerise audiences around the world existed. Coming from a musical
background, my father developed a close harmony between Indian
instrumental music and the western one. Therefore giving life to me was
his ambition. He sensed that I was talented and made every effort was
made to make me a super star. Every morning he sits with me and fed me
with musical notations.
I really enjoyed being a child in front of him trying to swallow the
basics of Indian music. My tender years were spent undergoing training
for many hours. If I could not get the perfect notation sounds my father
use to beat me and I cried for hours!
I had a slim figure with a long neck similar to a giraffe. I wore two
earrings on either side and few a cords wrapped around my neck stretched
up to my my belly. I had become an attractive figure for any lover to
look twice, the cords provided numerous sounds, rubbed down my body and
gave me a soothing effect.
By
now I had reached the marriageable age. My father was looking for a
suitable partner. My lovers were world-renowned music directors and
music maestros.
 Finally, I got hooked to a musician who was a world-renowned sitar
maestro of superb talent. He is especially known for having brought
about a close harmony between Indian instrumental music and the Western
type.
I was happy with my new partner who guided me so well to become a
genius. We practised day and night and brought out new creations. He
loved me so much at times he kept me close to his bosom while his
fingers were busy caressing and making love by strumming the cords. His
fingers running up and down my body gave me a thrilling sensation.
By
now my husband had broken all the unwritten rules that governed the
world of Indian classical music: he has an extraordinary bond with his
instrument the ‘sitar’.
 We performed in leading world capitals.
In symphony orchestras and reputed opera houses, we were in a group
which included world-reputed names the guitar, piano, the saxophone and
the bass guitar. To my delight, I was picked to perform in the final
round of the Van Cliburn International Sitar Competition for one of the
world’s most prestigious musical prizes. I obtained a seat in a huge
hall where an audience of 3,000 gathered. I sat cross-legged to start my
solo recital. Suddenly doubts crowded my mind. Would his fingers go
where I wanted them to? Would he make any mistake?
This was my husband’s only chance. For his last note, the crowd rose
to its feet and amid thunderous applause, began chanting the ‘sitar’,
‘the sitar’! Tears sprang to my eyes, when the announcement was about to
be made. My husband realised that there was only one prize to go - the
gold - and only one name left - his own. At the press conference
followed by music critics asked my husband about his triumph.
“My music teacher,” he said, “Kept my feet on the ground, my ‘sitar’
kept my dreams always alive.”
-Tissa Hewavitarane
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