The stage for the final showdown was set. With the noble prize in the mind and child like enthusiasm in his heart, doctor was giving final touches to the grandest performance of his life.
He was sure that the tune which was humming inside his patient’s mind have a signifying significance on the way sounds are perceived and this pumped up in his approach, he didn’t want to miss an inch of the path on which he was walking. Therefore to be assured and in command of everything unknown, he with the help of his friend arranged for a music studio.
The studio was booked for the entire day. It was one the most expensive studio of the city and the entire cost was incurred by Doctor himself. The whole studio was turned into a laboratory, it was a big studio divided by the wall of glass. On one side there was, ‘resting couch’, from where he had listened to the sick confessions of troubled minds all his life, alongside the couch was the priceless MRI Scanner. The doctor along with music composer were arranging their respective machines, while on the other side of the wall stood, 4 musicians, each dressed as per the voice of their instruments. A guy in his 20’s dressed in casual t-shirt and relaxed jeans was jamming his guitar, while an elder man in formal dress was standing quietly at the corner with his sitar.
The farm was ready and it was the time for hen to lay its ‘golden egg’. He had informed all his seniors and colleagues that he had found something awe-inspiring but didn’t disclosed the details of his discovery, it wasn’t because he was suspecting some foul play but he didn’t want to miss the desperate looks on the faces of his fellow beings, as he mercilessly destroy there long held beliefs, about the mind and the memory.
Finally! The Christ-of-the-moment arrives at the given studio address. He looked little anxious by the preparations and musicians but he kept his discomfort to himself and walked straight to his Tsar.
Doctor: Very Good! How are you my friend, any improvement in the condition?
..... More than a concern it was a formality. A discomforting nod of head brought a delight to the senses of the predator that was craving sensation.
Doctor: Right! Here are the musicians, you will instruct them about the music which is disturbing and they will try to re-create that same tune and once we capture it, we will nullify its effect.
.... And now the deer was tied with the rope along the tree.
OKAY! Let’s Start.
He carefully inspected all the instruments and closed his eyes to release the ghost of his mind.
The situation was getting tense; there was no one in the studio who was speaking. The music composer, the musicians, the doctor and the patient, everyone was silent. Nervous by this subtle silence, he approached his patient, who immediately raised his arm, signalling the doctor to wait.
He opened his eyes, he was looking relieved and the ‘monk’s smile’ on his face suggested that he had attained enlightenment.
Patient: It’s gone...it’s gone...it’s not there anymore....Thank you doctor, you are a genius...Thank you...it’s gone..
Thank you... You are a genius...It’s gone... These words were like poisonous darts on the hopes, desires and aspirations of the heart, who was already singing praises for moment which never happened.
Doctor: Hhhhhow can it go? That’s not possible.
Prophecy of end of the world was proving right for the doctor who was running short of breath and words.
Doctor: Wait...www... Let me check, one minute, let me confirm, just sit down on this chair and let me see the MRI Scan.
Everyone, including the patient was surprised at this unusual mannerism of an educated elite, but they remained quite. The patient, without saying anything, respecting the experience of the doctor quietly sat down for his brain scan.
He nervously wired up the patient and prayed for the miracle. He switched on the machine and observed the results with wide open unblinking eyes. The results were out, fortune machine ran out of fortune and verdict declared was ‘doom’. The brain was working fine, right and left hemisphere were in perfect harmony and motor cortex was doing what it was supposed to do. The chaotic disorder miraculously restored itself.
Psychiatrist: Noooooooooooooooo.... This can’t be possible, how could this be?? He shouted at the top of his lungs.
Wait...wait, I have the music sheet with me. I think...i think, something will...
Without completing his sentence, he maniacally started searching his pockets, throwing out everything; he could get his hands upon. The room was filled with stunned silence and grief expressions.
Here it is...right here...I have it...okay you four (Pointing towards the clueless musicians standing in the airless room behind the other side of glass wall)... Use d- guitar, u-violin, m-piano and b for sitar and use capitals for high pitch.
None of them responded to his plea and left the place quietly one after the other. Slowly and quietly everyone present in the studio left that sorry place. The last person to leave was the patient, who despite of the cure was feeling sick from inside. There was no one left in the studio except for the well-renowned, science driven proud psychiatrist, who was flapping his hands shouting;
# Doctor, my mind is arrested by the music#
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