What are we missing?

A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin;it was a cold January morning. He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousand of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule.

A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping continued to walk.

A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried but the kid stopped to look at the violinist.Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over,no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.

Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats average $100.

This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of an social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people.

The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour:
Do we perceive beauty? Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?

One of the possible conclusions from this experience could be:

If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?


taken from: http://dasguptachandan.blogspot.com


When the sun goes down on me

So I don’t talk about you anymore
And they say things will be better than before
So I live another day , hoping they are right
But now , I lie awake , in this cold November night

I think about you and I believe
that when it’s time for me to leave
And the sounds of life are defeated by a silent grace
I , my friend , will want to see your face

You trusted me without a why
And I said I am your shade when the sun is high
You just smiled and did not doubt
My false promises kept the reality out

But when the wolves arrived , you saw me depart
And now , the shards of those promises bleed my heart
and When the lady called life loosens her embrace
I , my friend , will want to see your face

Do you hate me now , I do not know
Do you regret knowing a man so shallow
Does it disgust you to remember my voice
Will you live it again , if given a choice

I think you wont , And I see the reason
But I still wish , though guilty of treason
And when the glow of a setting sun fills the space
I , my friend , will want to see your face

You dont let go of your dreams
For a whisper of love can drown all the screams
I know that to talk of love , I have no right
But sometimes you see something only when it is out of sight

So wherever you are , give love another chance
Let it fill your heart , do it’s divine dance
As for me ..when the angels of death carry me to a darker place
I , my friend , will want to see your face

(taken from-http://mydayzwithmyself.blogspot.com/)