The scent of pine and cinnamon hung heavy in the air, it was cold. The sweet voice of MS Subbulakshmi singing "Bhaja Gōvindam" echoed from the speakers of Pārthasārathi temple. 

2024 was about to dawn. Yes, it was New Year's Eve. I sat near my balcony, hunched over a blank sheet, my pen poised above the crisp new page. 

What a feeling it was! A New Year Eve filled with reflections and anticipations as I sat to take the much awaited New Year resolutions. Suddenly, I heard a voice, "Ahem, if you make New Year resolutions, I would too."

I was shocked. The voice felt familiar. Surprisingly, there was a sweet resonance when I turned to see who it was. I found out it was my old violin! 

The hundred-year-old family violin, the one I learnt since the age of five. She spoke!

The violin's voice, an exquisite old wooden instrument with its polished curves and vibrant sound, just spoke. I was entranced, and finally felt my passion just personified. As I went closer to my violin, I could hear her voice clearer. 

She had resolutions too and she declared everything amid my clutter of thoughts. I was indeed happy. The violin spoke her first resolution. 

"I declare to be playing more than four times a week, four measly times!" 

The words hit me hard. I always loved to play the violin, an instrument I learnt till my 10th grade.

With the series of duties, responsibilities and academics, she, violin, was just at rest, which she never deserved. 

This resolution my dear violin proposed was not just a whimsical idea, but a challenge to myself to grow and develop my passion.

For a moment, I gazed at the sky and exhaled, "The universe is great!"

She spoke again. 

"You need to change my rusty, worn out strings." 

The way she spoke was funny yet deeply insightful. The violin had a thirst for her strings and the bow for the rosin. 

Everything was set and it felt like I had to fulfil the proposals she made. As we sat down for the first practice of the year, brushing up a few of the formatives of Carnatic music, all the way from Varisai-s to Alaṅkāra-s, I could feel the weight of the bow. It felt nostalgic going back to lessons once which I always struggled with but could play a bit better now. 

A few weeks passed from varisais to alaṅkāra-s to kīrtana-s. It was a joyous journey. We embarked on something unique this time, an attempt to try the intricate element of Carnatic music - Manōdharma. 

It was a very tricky journey. But wow, my violin did encourage me. A few months passed and mastery on the instrument became even more finer. We would talk about the doyens of the art form, Lalgudi G Jayaraman, M S Gopalakrishnan and my all time favourite T N Krishnan sir. The bond strengthened. 

My violin was a catalyst for my self-discovery, my peace, so on and so forth. Her resolutions taught me undoubtedly the importance of effective practice sessions, a bond which cannot be explained but should be experienced.

We tried genres of music with parallel encouragement and of course constructive criticism. Amid the hefty resolutions, life and academics, there have been days where I did not practice nor did I respond to her. I would know that my violin moaned in silence, but we understood.

With all the resolutions she made this year, it has been a year of understanding and forgiveness. Though we had really staunch resolutions, we made sure that nothing confines our partnership. Trust and love were immense. 

My violin knew I would get back to her. Months passed, and my learning deepened. To wake in the morning, pray and maintain the violin, feed the bow the rosin, in training the formations… everything became a daily ritual done with due care, love and a lot of contentment. A way to go and a happy journey. 

We share a very common set of kṛti-s, Cētaśrī Bālakṛṣṇam, a magnum opus in the Rāga Dvijāvantī, is one that is so close to heart.

In this amazing process of tuning life with passion, bringing a routine, fixing what is called Sadhana and syncing the essence of Carnatic music to the heart, is a slow journey that invokes peace. 

All the while now, I really feel what my violin declares as resolutions are not merely promises, which an individual has to fulfil. Rather, it is a dialogue between passion and commitment, a heart to heart connection between you and the instrument you play. As days passed, we became good partners, mastering aspects of Manōdharma, trying and implementing learnings from lecdems and cherishing every moment. 

Music is indeed magical, making peace and formulating discipline between two amazing souls, one made of wood and strings, the other with flesh and a lot of anticipation. 

In conclusion, bringing in a crux of what our journey is, once when my violin squeaked, "What is your biggest learning in the past few months?" I said that there were many. Some can be described and some cannot.

But if there is one through my violin's resolutions, it is this self-realization. The relationship between an artist and art is not merely utilitarian. It is something even bigger, a dance of interest, involvement and passion synced to one. It is never a solo endeavour. The more you give time, the better the mastery. The violin has always been a yardstick in life. We enjoy, we discover, we work and we grow. The voice, a blend of wood, varnish and love keeps resonating in life!