It’s been three months since I listened to music. I haven’t even sung to myself with my inside voice, which is what I always did in moments of sadness. The last tune I remember hearing, and singing, was Ya Rayheen ‘al-Quds Khudhuni Ma‘akum – “Take Me with You to Jerusalem” – during my music troupe’s rehearsal for a concert that was going to be part of the annual Octobar al-Wardy , or Rosy October, festival. I take part in it every year. Music was my refuge from the ear-splitting rocket strikes.