Hi. It's been a long time since I published anything but I haven't had the chance to blog due to some personal reasons.
This post is a true incident from my life.
March 19th, 2012
"Is this your's bro?", I finally blurted out.
"Ahan", said the owner of the gaming zone.
I shifted my eyes back to the guitar ,placed in the corner, which I had been admiring since I had entered the shop. What a sweet thing it was. Classy, Simple. It was shaped just like my own but it looked more like how a guitar should be. Woody brown as compared to my own rust colored six string.
It's headstock was pointed upwards in a bluesy shape which made it look even more attractive to me.
"Can I play it then?", I took a step closer to it.
" 'Course" said the gaming zone owner. But I had already grabbed it's neck before these words even escaped his lips.
I held it excitedly in my hands. Turned it over. Brushed my hand on it's head. The wooden surface felt pleasantly cool beneath my fingers.
Without speaking a word, I grabbed the stool from one of the compartments and sat on it. I could sense the eyes of my classmates and all the other boys glued to me.
The first thing I did was pluck the third fret of the high e* string and use my thumb to pluck a bass note. I had started playing the intro to "Nothing Else Matters".
I was too busy moving my fingers over the frets, pressing them, plucking the strings and strumming to notice that the other boys had come closer and had formed a semi circle before me.
It was when I finished the intro with another bass note that I heard one of the boys from my audience say "Ai Oi".
I looked up. There were fifteen to twenty boys before me. All of them smiling and waiting for me to play something else. I turned my gaze to the left and found one of my classmate looking at me. Behind me stood my best friend. A little smile was planted on his lips. This was the first time he had heard me play the guitar.
"Nice one. Play Stairway or Freebird or how about that Dance Of Death solo?", he urged.
I stared at him. They were hard to play and I had an audience to please so I started plucking the guitar strings to play one of the easiest songs I could. Bilal Khan's "Bachana".
I could see the excitement in the boys' eyes. Obviously this was a song they knew. I felt proud. To be there in that room, with a skill none of the boys had was obviously a strong feeling for me.
I gained confidence and their interest kept rising. I was the star of the room. I was the king with the skills. I was the master of the riffs. I could play the guitar, they couldn't. I could make the heavenly tunes, not them.
It was at that moment when I felt like I was the centre of the world. I was the nucleus, they were the electrons. I was the Sun, they were the planets. I was the General, they were the soldiers.
I felt a mixture of emotions. The pride. The power. Oh the greatness of the moment. My veins pumped adrenaline in my body.
Every chord I played, every string I picked, I was taking out my feelings. Anger, Fear, Hate, Love etc. all coming out in the form of musical symphonies and tunes. The boys could feel it. I was letting them out.
The only feeling I still had intact was kind I had never felt before. It was a rage mixed with ecstacy. Furious joy.
I went out of my comfort zone. I played songs which were hard for me before. But this confidence guided my fingers over the fretboard. I played the barre chords, my fingers slapped the frets as they moved up and down, swiftly playing the scales.
I heard a boy whisper "Aala guitaring" to his friend. I closed my eyes and let this compliment wash over me.
I played and played for I don't know how long but I never wanted this moment to end. To be a centre of attention. I had sometimes dreamed of being a musician and here I was already tasting how it felt like. It was like I was living the dream. A dream full of unviolated pride and joy.
I was in the arena, playing a Fender electric guitar like Jimi Hendrix while millions of fans screamed before me.
It was the tap of my friend's hand on my shoulder that brought me back to reality. I blinked. I was in that little room and not in a concert hall. I was holding a Toptlon acousic guitar and not a Fender. I was Hamza and not Hendrix.
"Electricity is back. Come on dude!Stop showing off now. Grab a computer before anyone else takes your place."
I got up. Put the guitar in the corner, rubbed my hands like a soldier who had survived a war and had done great acts of heroism and followed my friend out of that little room and back into the gaming area.
"That second PC is mine", I said to my best friend and ran. I felt one of the boys from my audience thump me in the back in appreciation as I raced my friend to the computer.
