Guess post - Khalid Fadil search for his lost Precious

This post is about a young guitarist looking to be reunited with his most love instrument.I hope this help
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I've made the decision to begin the hunt for something that I've been forcefully kept away from for long enough. Its the old, battered guitar you see attached to this article. To you, it shouldn't be anything special... but to me, it means an incalculable lot. Its a well-used, no-brand guitar. But, here's the story behind it.

As all of you know, I've had a deep passion for guitars since a very young age. I used to glue myself to the television when someone was performing onstage in a rock band. I used to dream about owning a guitar of my own and playing it like a champ. So far, the former has been achieved... and I'm grateful. When I was 16, I was taking guitar lessons from a teacher named Ramadee at Yamaha Great Sound. This was at the Shah Alam branch. 

One night, as I entered the little room we had for class, I noticed an old, faded, and torn 'Fender' gig bag leaning in the corner. I asked Ramadee if I could see what was in it, and he pulled out this guitar. It was hands down the most awesome guitar I had ever seen. Previously, I had only read about vintage guitars and had only seen them in books... but, now I had one right before me. It was brandless and Ramadee didn't think much of it... though, it was obvious that he did cherish it to a certain degree. It was his uncle's guitar who used to be a full-time musician before suffering from a sort of physical issue in his hands. The wear on this guitar was just phenomenal. Lacquer and paint worn right down to bare wood almost all around the guitar. Even the frets were pressed inwards from all the playing. It sounded horrible, it weighed like a bowling ball, and it hurt my fingers playing it... but, I loved the thing so much. 

The guitar was just so full of character. Every dent, ding, chip, and scratch had a story to tell. It was like nothing I've ever seen or played before... and I've yet to find another like it. Needless to say, class that day was all about my fascination toward the guitar... and Ramadee intrigued by how someone my age could appreciate such an old piece of junk. But, that's just it. Its an old piece of junk! Its withstood years of use, been many places, met many people, suffered every kind of accident imaginable! Don't you think that's interesting? What it would be like to learn the history behind it...

Anyway, every class from then on, I used this guitar. I didn't bother bringing my own. Class was a whole lot better playing that old thing. After about a year or so, Ramadee made the decision to further his studies in music at Berkley's College of Music in the United States... and seeing how deeply I felt for the guitar, decided to raise the funds he needed for the trip to the US by selling it to me. I now had an opportunity to own such an old and awesome axe! He gave me a month to buy it... and I immediately started saving up cash. Throughout the following 30 days, I got a part time job at the very same Yamaha store and saved up the weekly allowance that my parents gave me. Of course, with just a month, I didn't raise much... but, when the time came, I already had enough with the help of some withdrawals from my bank account. So, I went to class and paid him the money. 

The guitar was now officially mine. Never have I actually had the determination to work for something before. But, this guitar inspired me so. In my pursuit to acquire it, I learned a lot for a 16-year-old. I learned how things worked in a guitar store. I gained working experience. I earned my own living... even if it was only for a month. I earned what I aimed for. The feeling that night was just amazing. Everything I had done in the past month was well worth it. The awesome guitar that I had the privilege of seeing with my own eyes that night was now mine. From that night on, the guitar had a name... Precious. I no longer referred to it as a guitar. Precious was it's name

Precious and I were like siblings. We went everywhere together... even if it wasn't musically related. I'd just put it in it's bag, swing it over my shoulder and we'd go wherever it is that I was headed at the time. I even brought it to school. I was a quiet and well-behaved student so the teachers didn't really mind. I'd just store Precious in the principal's office during classes and take it with me during recess. I'd sit somewhere quiet, have my lunch, and play a tune or two... even if I didn't have an amp. It just brought me joy and satisfaction to have such an instrument in my possession. All the character made it seem... alive. Other students laughed and teased thinking I was weird. I didn't care. When Precious was in my hands, I didn't have a care in the world. But, our time together wasn't gonna last... You see, I bought Precious without the knowledge of my parents. They were disciplinarians and knowing them, me buying another guitar was a huge disobedience. Plus, they would have only seen Precious as a worthless piece of wood... and they did. They didn't have the appreciation for old guitars. Everything to them had to be neat, tidy, and clean.

One day, I slid Precious out from under my bed for a few songs to play. My parents had gone out and I had my room door shut. After I was done, I took a cloth to give Precious a wipe-down before storing it back under my bed. But, as I was wiping, my mother came through the door... and a stranger greeted her eyes. The guitar in my hands wasn't mine as far as she knew. Lying would've made things a whole lot worse, so I told her the truth entirely. Then, I had to wait those grueling, everlasting hours till my father came home... Worst night of my life. As expected, he was extremely furious. He was convinced that Ramadee ripped me off with a worthless piece of wood. But, what he was about to do even I would've never expected... I've never seen him hate something with such passion. He wanted Precious gone and my money back... and he made it happen. In tears, I called Ramadee up to break the horrible news to him. My parents wanted him to take back Precious and refund my money. But, he had already spent the money on his flight tickets to the US. He couldn't pay... but, my father was determined. 

He wouldn't change his mind. Eventually, Ramadee was forced to contact his retired mother so that she could conduct a bank transfer. Just like that, my guitar teacher was embarrassed before his own mother... and both of them put through troubles that they didn't deserve. I was living a nightmare... All I wanted was to own something truly cool... and I didn't even bother anyone to get it. It takes a lot to make me cry, but I cried all through the night that night. Eventually, I cried myself to sleep... and I woke up the next morning to a dustbin filled to the rim with snot and tear soaked tissues. The task for that day was to return Precious to Ramadee... I went over to Yamaha, but he wasn't there. Somehow that was a relief. I couldn't possibly face him after what had happened. I was so embarrassed and greatly discouraged... I was simply a huge mess of negative emotions and everyone could see it. I walked into the classroom and left Precious in the very same corner I first saw it in. I walked out and went home. I never saw Ramadee nor Precious ever again. Something I had worked so hard for had been taken away from me faster than I could muster. Everybody who knew me asked me about Precious. They were used to seeing me with it over my shoulder. I couldn't answer them...

Its been about 4 years now... and Precious is still in the back of my mind. Not a day goes by that I don't think about that old guitar. I constantly hope for the day that we're reunited... which is why I've decided to do something about it. The chances are slim and the odds are against me, but I'll take every little ounce of hope and belief I can get.

TO ALL MY FRIENDS AND FELLOW FACEBOOKERS, PLEASE PASS THIS ARTICLE AROUND. TAG IT, SHARE IT, SPREAD IT ALL AROUND. MAKE IT VIRAL. Hopefully, this article will find the current owner of Precious. Miracles don't often happen, but I do wish this one would.

The post above is taken from Khalid Fadil Facebook wall Here