Powerful but tender arms gently lifted me as I stepped into the arena. They were the arms of the sweet melodious music that filled the ceremonial air with joy in this part of the world. The sweet enchanting voice of the music persuaded me to dance. It was a dance that was not taught; a dance that was learnt from the very vibrant rhythms of the music itself. For a moment I was lost in my crazy dance steps, totally synchronized with the vibrations of the music. I turned around, catching myself in between my vibes. I couldn’t help admiring the joy and happiness that was lit on the faces of everyone my eyes fell upon.
I walked towards the source of the music, drawn by a mixture of enthusiasm and curiosity. The music was coming from a cone shaped hut which had no door, but simply had a small opening through which one could crawl in. A few minutes ago, it was just a mere hut, but now, it would be more properly described as a giant jukebox. I crawled into the jukebox, scanning the environment with my eyes. I stood up inside and for a moment the scenario seemed to have changed. It seemed as if I had just joined a network.
The music was loud but my eardrums did not complain. I felt like I was on top of a mountain. Only one of them seemed to have even noticed my entrance. They were all lost in the tune of their rhythms. Trying to behold all of them at once was like trying to put all the waters of the oceans in one cup. I zeroed in one of them, a drummer with just two drums. He was seating on one and the other drum was standing beside him, he beat the two rhythmically, his eyes were closed as he nodded in synchrony to the tune. I closed my eyes and held the vision in my eyes. The music definitely had a soul and I could feel it. These ancient instruments seemed to have been constructed by wise sages of old for they seemed to activate a part of the soul. It had a language and the soul could understand it.
The tempo of the music rose, engulfing me with thrill and excitement. I heard loud cheers outside and at once, I crawled out. The crowd where whistling around one of the masquerades who was chanting. I could swear it was better than any sort of poem I had ever heard. It rhythmically recited stories of old dancing to it as it sang. The music brought its chants to life, and people admired the masquerade with awe, some praising it and some spraying money on its face. The whole environment was enthralling. I asked myself a question? What does man live for if not to be happy? What happiness on earth is greater than this? Yet, the most painful fact of all was that, this perfection was under the threat of extinction, by none other but man himself!