The Whistle of Joy | By Teh Su Syuen
Illustration by Sarah.
The townspeople were all smiles, though something was misplaced,
Though they looked cheery, they were, indeed not,
You could see it in the way they walked, and the way they talked.
With these thoughts distracting her mind,
Joy stumbled and tripped, stopping as she looked behind.
She had tripped on what looked like a stick, quite long and covered in grime,
It looked like it’d been there for some time,
Like a pipe, holes were seen on it, and oh, there were a few,
Small, circled ones on its side, and a long one right through.
With a gut feeling, Joy took the pipe home,
She washed it thoroughly, with water, soap, and foam,
That night, she picked it back up, now clean and gleaming,
And blew through it, instead of sleeping.
The whistle of air, quiet and soft in the small bedroom,
Sounded magical to Joy, like a flower in full bloom,
She felt delighted as if on cloud nine,
It seemed like she was watching every star in the sky shine.
Then, the bedroom door burst open, and in came her dad,
Red-rimmed eyes stared back at her, looking horrified—and mad,
“Stop playing that” were the only words spoken, hushed and final,
Feeling unjust, Joy spoke back in denial.
“But it’s just music,” she said in a hurry,
Though all her dad’s reaction was a frown, one in worry,
He shook his head quietly,
And gave her one long look, before leaving silently.
‘Why was he mad?’, ‘Why didn’t he reply?’,
‘And why did he look like he wanted to cry?’
These thoughts plagued Joy's mind all night,
She tossed and turned in bed until she could see the sunlight.
When the sun rose the next morning, Joy set out with a goal,
She’d decided to share this happy feeling, one that she couldn’t control,
So she stood in the middle of town and started to play a tune,
Intrigued, people started to gather, slowly filling up the square by noon.
Everyone was having a blast;
Children laughed and clapped, teens began to dance,
But then one particular man caught Joy’s attention,
Her dad stood amongst the crowd, the look in his eyes beyond comprehension.
Her playing slowed to a halt as she caught his gaze,
Though all she saw behind his worried eyes were his praise,
He looked proud as he watched his daughter in the event,
And Joy had never seen him look so content.
He was actually reminded of a girl; a girl he once knew,
One that looked exactly like Joy, and how she loved playing music too.
Overjoyed that he decided to stay,
Joy went back to her task at hand, and her music continued to play,
And she played and she played and she played and she played,
It almost looked like it was a parade,
Along with everyone else in town,
She played till the sun went down,
Even as the moon hangs high in the sky, shining bright,
Moonlight gleamed down on them as if saying “Goodnight”.
Photo by Chai Yi Xuan.
Silhouette Playing Instrument.
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