I. I am strolling casually, absent-mindedly and without object – a luxury I privileged to enjoy here in the heart of Africa – while buses, lorries and automobiles race past with purpose and haste. I settle on a thought, morbid I admit, that with two steps to my right at the opportune moment one has the definite power to impact so many lives that are close to him. In two innocuous movements of the lower limbs he can end his days, thus turning those harmless steps into a heinous and selfish crime against humanity; thrusting dozens, or even hundreds if he is truly blessed, into chasms of despair and eternal anguish. But for one solitary individual, if his disposition is thus, it can be a simple act to end great sorrow, or raw turmoil residing in one’s breast. Although I myself am not of this disposition, at that specific moment in time, I find comfort in that thought.
II. Two years of my three years at University have passed, and I have found that a certain variety of young students talk much, but say little.
III. I sincerely believe that, after love, music is the most constant and unfailing solace that one can fall back upon during even the most turbulent moments of any life. The most ethereal of cathartic journeys are cradled in the strings of violins; tender tremblings of piano keys are the stairs that lay the route toward a purge of the distress reposed in the soul, while the euphony of a soprano can eclipse the melancholy burrowing into the troubled mind. Music ignites an iridescence that cannot be extinguished, but may merely recede to a flicker of a flame until a melody is recalled at the moment of need, and then soul erupts once again into a rainbow of flash and ecstasy.
Music is a refuge, a sanctuary from the deluge of tragedies, the chronic nightmares of portent and the pits of despair that line all our lives at several intervals.