Darling mine, your day of destiny, to make a new home, has come.
With sweet memories of childhood, take these words from mum.
From this home go, proud as a true Tambura, nothing humdrum.
Great composers, singers, Lakshmi and Saraswati offer you welcome.
Nevertheless, my child, these sagely words, you need.
In good and bad times, your mum's counsel, take heed.
Not all is rosy out there. Welcome and cuddled, happy days without a pause.
But soon, your voice may fall silent, and none will wonder what it was.
Your stately bearing, your perfect strings, that proud neck will languish.
Surrounded by tinny sounds in loud places, you may feel much anguish.
Your famed ears that, once tuned, stir you into heavenly resonance
Might mutely witness people playing with toys in pure dissonance.
None will dust you nor tune your shining strings.
You will sit quietly, amidst furniture and things.
Forget the warm embrace and caress of a true singer.
Your new family could just be too busy to lift a finger.
In your place they will play a cute IOS or Android app.
Or shiny discs or bread boxes that go on singing like crap.
And yet, my child, take heart, your music and heritage will shine!
Some day, some worthy will come, and gladly build you a shrine.