My first love is and will always be piano. Ever since that day when I first planted my wee hands at a tender age of one on the smooth black and white keys, the rest was history. Fast forward six or seven years later, I pestered my mom to get me a piano and God bless her, I don’t know how she did it, but she was able to get one from an old family friend of ours who was moving away in the same apartment complex. And not only that, I started taking lessons from a well-established piano teacher in the area. If I were even remotely aware that we are at the time living on a doctoral student salary, I probably wouldn’t have been so stubborn about the whole thing. But my parents, who were music aficionados, were pretty cool about it in the end. So even when we bounced from one place to another, there was at least one thing constant in my life and that was piano. I was definitely not aiming to become a concert pianist. I loathed competitions and to my great disappointment didn’t have long, sinewy fingers. There were many times where I wanted to tear my hair out and cry in agony when practicing back in the day, but there was never a moment where I truly wanted to quit once and for all. Granted, I don’t own a keyboard/piano right now at my current place, I know that I can always rely on it to relax my mind. So to my fellow ex-musicians and current musicians, do you remember that magical moment when you first discovered music?