As far as I can remember, I was always easily amused. My parents showered me with toys, dolls, and other gifts, whose surfaces bore the wrath of my fists, and holes served as basins for my drool.
However, my amusement wasn't evoked from these objects alone; everything in my vicinity awed me. I would always stare at passers-by from my stroller when I saw them do their daily tasks.
After a few days, my mother noticed my fascination for the world around me. It was then that she decided to introduce me to the realm of formal education.
Thus, at nearly three years of age, I was dumped at the front porch of a place I would later come to know as nursery school.
An old woman with a crinkled face and eyes that had seen the wisdom of many days greeted me. When she took me inside, I felt very restless. Everything and everyone was new. And I didn't like it.
My parents thought that I would embrace this change. So did I. But as the hours and days passed, I began to feel more insecure.
I was too shy to play with anyone, and I rebuffed any attempts made to play with me. I was lonely.
Then one fine day, a man entered our class. The old woman told us to sit in a circle around him. We stared as he sat in front of the weirdly-shaped object in the middle of the classroom.
Everyone was silent. What is he going to do? I wondered. Then, he pressed the object.
The sound that resonated in the air made me freeze. My mind went blank as sound after sound poured out of the object. Words failed me, and my entire body was numbed. I was in a trance.
It wasn't a grand piece, like something by Beethoven. It was a simple nursery rhyme. Yet at that moment, it was the most beautiful thing I ever heard.
And it was at that moment that I decided that I wanted to learn the piano.
It's been more than ten years since that incident, and I still play the piano. I'm not very good at it, granted, and I don't play it every day. But I don't care, as long as I still play it.
I play it whenever I can, because I never want to forget the rhapsody that erupted within me when I first heard it be played.
I never want to forget the way the notes seeped through my skin and ran through my veins as though they were a part of me. I didn't want to forget how I felt nothing, yet everything all at once.
There was power in those notes, and to be able to wield it myself to recreate the feeling over and over again and never let it fade was, in my opinion, a feat in itself.
Whenever I play my piano, I think of this song. There is such magic in the sound of music.