Accordion Players

6 Ocak 2007

All through summer and fall, every Saturday, a girl and a boy of about sixteen came to the street my house is on, playing accordion. The first time they 'appeared' I was sitting on the couch, reading a book, suddenly I heard a sweet melody. My first instinct was thinking I was dreaming of the music, it was on my mind. They were playing a familiar tune, a light-hearted melody, reminding me of merry-go-rounds.

The girl played the accordion, the boy was looking at the windows of the houses and collecting the few money people threw at them. It was always a sad scene, contradicting with the happy notes they radiated on a sunny summer morning.

The significance of this in my life was their sudden entry with such a pleasant surprise; happy accordion notes all over the place as if you are in the midst of a Marquez book or a Fellini film. No invitation, no intention of being exposed to such a scene, but their just walking into the street magically, playing their music and leaving from the other end slowly. I often felt tears rushing to my eyes due to the unusuality of the moment.

Week after week they came and I kept this to myself as if they were some angels from heaven, brushing a color of pink on an otherwise gray picture, until one day, a friend told me about the young accordion players that came to their street, playing their sweet music.

I never saw them again...

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