How it echoes across the dark skies. The heat rises up and down with days and nights and so does the incessant flow of music all around us. The rough dulcet tones of the traffic during the day or soft strumming of six strings in some lonely corner of the town, music seems to penetrate through the thickest of walls and crosses boundaries like no other can ever do. Peace is but a myth in this world that has been locked up in a bottle and thrown into the seas to be borne away, out of sight to create less damage to the war mongers. Every single day we see dead ideals, half buried morals, towers of prejudices and bigotry, slimy bogs of malice and hatred simmering beside our steps taken towards our destination that seems a splendid replica of all the representations of hell made in thousands of years of mankind. Music alone, can bring joy among all this. Be it strings, keys, bellows, membranes, teeth, cheek…anything, music can provide the path to salvation. As August said, music is all around us. Its what the world finds peace in and has been so for ages past.

I must be dreaming as Schumann taught us to. This old town is dead and music cannot win wars. Battles are fought by guns and bullets, by cannons and bombs and not by violins and guitars and pianos. But what if, they have a music of their own? Their music dies I guess along with millions of others, all trapped and strangled in this old town…

‘I have been spending my money in this old town, Not the same honey when you are not around…

I have been spending my time in this old town, Sure miss you honey now that you’re not around…

In this old town…’