Finding Calm in the Sound of My Flute

Working as a pediatrician at Command Hospital (AFMC) in Pune is a role that brings me a lot of professional pride, but it is also a job that demands every ounce of my energy. My roots go back to Kolhapur, a city with a rich culture, but my life in Pune has been mostly defined by the fast-paced, high-pressure world of medicine. Caring for children is rewarding, but it weight on your heart and your mind in ways that are hard to describe if you aren't there in the thick of it.

Before the flute entered my life, my days followed a very rigid, exhausting pattern. I would wake up early to do some yoga, which gave me a small window of peace before the rush started. After that, it was a whirlwind of household responsibilities followed by a quick dash to my OPD. From 9:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m., my mind was constantly on—diagnosing, treating, and talking to worried parents. By the time I walked through my front door in the evening, I felt like a battery that had been drained down to zero.

I didn’t want to go out. I didn’t want to socialize. Honestly, I didn’t even want to talk. I would just go to my room and sit in the silence, trying to recover from the mental and physical exhaustion of the day. During those quiet hours, I realized I was searching for something. I wasn't sure what it was at first, but I knew I needed a sense of inner peace. I wanted something that would bring true satisfaction and meaning to my life outside of my white coat and stethoscope.

One day, while I was scrolling through Facebook, I saw a post from Harsh Sir about a flute masterclass. I’ve always been drawn to the sound of the flute, but I had never thought of myself as someone who could play it. Something about the post felt like an invitation. I decided to join the class, and the moment it started, I had this overwhelming feeling that I was in the right place. It was like I had finally stumbled upon the thing I had been searching for during those quiet evenings in my room.

I didn't waste any time. I joined the Foundation Course immediately. I was so convinced that this was my path that even before I finished the basics, I upgraded to the Diamond Membership with Flute Gandharva. I was committed, but that didn’t mean it was easy.

In the beginning, I struggled much more than I expected. As a doctor, I understand the mechanics of breathing, but doing it for the flute was a different story. When I tried to practice the *alankars*—the basic musical exercises—I constantly ran out of air. I couldn't even finish a simple sargam in one breath. I would try to blow into the flute, and within minutes, I would be huffing and puffing, feeling completely worn out. It was frustrating because I was already tired from work, and now my hobby was making me feel physically exhausted too. There were days when I looked at the flute and thought, "Maybe I’m just not built for this. Maybe I should just quit."

But I kept going. I worked on my breathing every day. I took it slow. And then, a shift happened that changed everything.

The turning point came when I was preparing my recordings for the Level 1 (L1) submission. I had practiced the same notes over and over again, and when I finally recorded myself and played it back, I stopped in my tracks. I listened to the sound and thought, *I am actually doing this. That is me playing the flute.* It sounded real. It sounded musical. That moment gave me a surge of confidence I hadn’t felt in a long time. It wasn't just about the music; it was the realization that I had faced a struggle and come out on the other side.

Since that day, the flute has changed more than just my evenings; it has changed my personality. I notice it most at the hospital. My job involves dealing with a lot of different people—colleagues, staff, and parents who are often stressed or upset. In the past, I might have felt impatient or bothered by certain behaviors. But now, I find myself reacting with much more patience and tolerance.

The flute taught me that you can't rush a beautiful note. You have to be patient with the instrument, and you have to be patient with yourself. I’ve carried that lesson into my daily life. I have more acceptance for people as they are. Instead of getting frustrated and trying to change the people around me, I focus on my own breathing and my own growth. I’ve learned that the only person I can truly change is myself.

Today, my relationship with the flute is completely different from those first few weeks. On the first day, the sound I produced was harsh. It was loud and unpleasant, almost like I was shouting through the wood. Whether it was a straight flute or a side-blown flute, I just couldn't get it right.

But now, when I pick up my flute, it feels like I’m holding the hand of a dear friend. It is my companion and my partner. The notes are no longer harsh; they are soft, melodious, and calm. When I play now, the exhaustion of the hospital fades away. I no longer sit in my room in empty silence—I sit in my room and fill it with music.

I have finished my L1 journey and have just started L2. I know there will be more challenges ahead, but I’m not afraid of them anymore. The flute has taught me that as long as I show up and keep practicing, I can achieve things I once thought were impossible. It has given me the inner peace I was looking for all those years.

— Dr. Priti Sagaonkar (Pune)