AN EXTRACT FROM WORK IN PROGRESS
Nandi felt nostalgic for her former life; for everything she ever had; for everything she had lost; for her best friend and cousin Mini who died so young; for her strong great-grandmother whose love and affection she missed more than food or drink.
She sat down with her Sitar and started strumming the strings of the instrument visualizing Mini sitting behind her and playing together like they used to. As the soft subtle music drifted from her room, it touched every human in the vicinity. Nobody at La Cigam had ever heard music so pure before. As the sound reached the people, it made them feel incomplete. They missed something or someone. They were not even sure what it was. Nostalgia was all around them. Some wondered what they were doing in this world and others started to ask themselves who they really were.
As professor Battersea was walking back to his lodge he felt the tears stinging his eyes, but he had a smile on his face. He knew that she was going to win them over.
It seemed that everything had stopped to listen. Even the birds in the forest had stopped chirping, the leaves on the trees stood motionless as the breeze stopped in its stride.
The Garden Party froze, not one of those standing there could raise their glass of champagne to their lips. That music, what is it? Somebody asked bravely.
I think it is baldy who is producing that. Annette says she is a bit mystical and that she has a strange instrument in her room.
The music stopped abruptly and nobody wanted to carry on partying after that. There was a melancholy in the air and slowly one by one, the students returned to their rooms, each one of them carrying a guilty conscience for excluding “baldy” from the party, knowing that somehow they were going to make it up to her.