Benjamin Silva was by far the best music teacher in Goa. I have been his student since I was fourteen.

Ben's father had moved to Goa back in the forties. Since then, the Silva musical legacy existed here. If you really wanted to be a good musician, you went to the Silvas. Ben Silva's father was percussion extraordinaire, and Ben was nothing less. He was a multi instrumentalist, and sometimes, it was hard to remember the array of instruments he played.

He taught me how to play the harp. I went to his house every Tuesday and Thursday to learn the instrument. He was the best music teacher I could've ever asked for.

I met his son on my first day of class. He was two years older than me. Andrew Silva. Musical child prodigy. Nothing surprising there.

We never talked that much, Andrew and I. He was my teacher's son, and I was his father's student. He was a carefree soul who loved music. His world revolved around his violin and his flute and the numerous other instruments he played. When I first saw him, I was in the middle of understanding how to hold a harp the right way, and he stared at me unnervingly, his eyes never leaving my face. I had begged myself not to flush in front of my teacher.

I was a shy girl. I didn't know how to talk to boys. The fact that I studied at an all girls school didn't help my shyness. When the first time we talked, he asked me my name. "K-keighlah," I had somehow mumbled out. The curly haired boy with those sparkling brown eyes, they said Andrew Silva didn't talk to you unless he actually finds you interesting. "Keighlah," he had repeated, and knitted his eyebrows together, as if he was concentrating. He had complimented me on how beautiful I sang. I felt strange, because he had only heard my singing once, when Ben told me to sing a song for him on my first day. I had muttered a thank you and rushed away to Ben's room.

Ben used to say, "you cannot play music if your mind is in conflict with your heart and your soul." Sometimes, I would have self degrading obsessive thoughts, and I would go off tune with my harp. Ben never scolded. He simply pursed his lips, and told me to go sit in the verandah for half an hour and come back. You could see the beautiful beach fron his verandah. It would calm my mind, release my agitation and helped me regain my peace enough to properly play my instrument.

Andrew came to the verandah that day. I had jumped in my seat. But he hadn't shown any reaction. He simply plopped down on the chair beside mine, and stared blankly at the sea. After a few moments, he broke the silence. "I really like the way you play your music, Keighlah."

I didn't know what to say at first. "Thanks?" My answer came a little late. In reality, I was just way too nervous to talk.

He hummed, then said, "I want you to play with me." I gave him a confused expression. "You know," he smiled, "I want you to play with me at functions and concerts. You do know, right? That I play at small concerts here and there?"

I nodded an affirmative.

"So? What do you say?" He asked, giving me an inquisitive look.

"I don't know, Andrew . . ." in my head, a thousand questions were swarming. Why did he ask me? There were other students here who were more experienced, in my opinion. Why hadn't he asked them? Had he asked anybody else? Did his father know? What was his plan?

Andrew gave me a tight-lipped smile, and patted my shoulder once. "Think about it. As long as you want. Offer will be open."

Then he was gone.

And I did think about it. Two years later, I told him that I would do it. But I didn't want to do it until I graduated high school. I was surprised that he accepted. I had honestly thought he had found somebody else.

After graduating high school, we started our concerts; our little duo was called 'The Urban Mantra.'

Andrew Silva went from being my teacher's son, to my friend, to my bandmate. And I created three rules for the both of us -

Never forget your lyrics.

Never lose your cool in public.

And never fall in love with your bandmate.