I got a keyboard when I was five. My sister, Meera, had started taking piano lessons and, being the younger sister I was, I had to do everything she did. But instead of paying a teacher for lessons for me as well, my parents commissioned my sister to pass on her knowledge. 

The keyboard was one of the cheaper ones, plastic keys with a stand. My sister played on the actual piano, but my fingers were too small and weak to press down on the heavy keys. I don’t remember how I felt in those initial days playing. I don’t remember if I liked it, I don’t know if I found it hard. I’m sure I took great pleasure in sharing something with my sister. 

At some point, the keyboard broke. It was fixable, but it would take a bit. So I temporarily transitioned to using the piano.

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