There's a little sad song inside me, that plays according to its whims and moods. It can start playing anywhere, anytime...on rainy nights,in moments of intense happiness,during lonely strolls in the terrace, while reading a beautiful poem...and I let it play.
My song has the melody of a pan-flute playing in the distant blue hils on which a scrim of silver mist descends when the orange in the sky deepens into a melancholic violet. I ride on the waves of its notes, plunge inside myself or surrender to a state of nebulousness and let the world fuse into me.
I like happy songs and love people who sing them for me. But no happy song could ever replace this little sad song that I have, the one I can never sing, the one that leaves my eyes moist and my throat aching, the one that will never fade away.