He was known for two things- good music and unending layers of chains. Thin ones, thick ones, elegant ones and ones like manacles. He dripped Gold!
His popularity soared, with every new composition. He became so addicted to this heady adulation, he drove himself to the brink trying to create a chartbuster every time.
One day it was no longer melody or music he spun. It was mere noise. The charts didn’t reflect his name or his creation. The crowds no longer chanted his name. This frivolous attitude was annoying and so frustrating.
At first he raged and raved, pacing like a caged animal, then he became depressed, then he did some math as he listened to some western popular music. His feet tapping to the beats.
Aha! This is what people like! But how could the masses, the people living in remote towns and villages have access to it? … Well he would deliver it to them.
He went about copying the music, setting them to local lyrics, after all who would know? How did it matter? He had the best interests of the ‘Public’ at heart.
Once again the fickle minded ‘Public’ started appreciating the foot tapping music produced by ‘the man in chains’, as they too were bound by an invisible chain to the rhythms of music, which made them forget their blues, momentarily!
