Lorenzo and Esmeralda

I entered the auditorium and after managing to find an empty chair, I sat down. An elderly man was sitting next to me. He was reading the brochure that we had all been given at the ticket counter and did not look up as I sat down. I looked at the stage. Corinthian columns stood on both ends of it. Dimly-lit lanterns decorated the ceiling. The auditorium was perfectly silent, the lanterns shone with a gentle sublimity and I started feeling slightly drowsy. As I waited for the performance to begin, my mind went back to the legends and stories that shrouded the theatre.

The theatre had been built by a couple, Lorenzo and Esmeralda Gonzalez, back in the 1850s. They were two of the most famous music composers of that time and they both played the violin. Through their violins, they conveyed to people their deepest emotions. They loved each other dearly and in their masterpieces, they reflected their love for each other. No other violinist could play the pieces Lorenzo and Esmeralda had written with the perfection and beauty with which they themselves had played.

When they were at the peak of their fame, they built a theatre in Madrid, Spain, naming it ‘The Gonzalez Music Theatre’. The place became the centre of their existence. They wrote their musical pieces there, rehearsed there, performed there. Music aficionados from all over the world rushed to Madrid to watch Lorenzo and Esmeralda play. Their lives were perfect and happiness encircled them, until one evening, tragedy struck.

It happened in 1854. That evening, there was nobody else at the theatre. Lorenzo and Esmeralda were rehearsing the latest musical piece they had written. For a reason which remains a mystery, the theatre suddenly caught fire. The initial sparks turned into terrible flames and they probably did not notice it, not until the giant waves of fire came rushing to them. Lorenzo and Esmeralda Gonzalez, two of the most accomplished musicians ever, whose talents nobody could compete with, whose love for each other became the inspiration for many novels that would be written over the decades, were engulfed by the cruel, unforgiving fire.

 The theatre was later rebuilt as a tribute to them. A part of it was transformed into a museum, while concerts were held in the auditorium regularly. The music composed by them was played in those concerts.

I had always been fascinated by the story of Lorenzo and Esmeralda and that is why I had come all the way to Madrid to visit the theatre. There was a rumour that the couple’s spirits still haunted the theatre. People living around the place often claimed that they had heard beautiful music coming from the auditorium, describing the melody as something otherworldly and serene. I had never believed in ghosts, but I kept thinking about these rumours while waiting for the performance to begin.

 The concert began. The violinists played rhythmically and while the music was soothing, there was no trace of the ethereal beauty it was supposed to convey. Was this really the way Lorenzo and Esmeralda intended their music to be?

 Then something happened. I found myself standing up. I walked up to the stage and through a corner entrance, I entered the backstage. I don’t know why I did that or why nobody stopped me. I sat down on the floor, listening to the music, finding it disappointing, and then suddenly, everything turned dark.

When I opened my eyes, I wondered if I had fallen asleep or fainted. The backstage was dark and deserted. There was no music coming from the stage. I did not have a watch. Had everybody left the auditorium? Why hadn’t anybody noticed me back there? I stood up and made my way to the stage. I saw something like a dense fog in front of me. I clutched a Corinthian column, and then, I felt an otherworldly, ethereal melody coming through the fog.

The music was faint but sounded so heavenly, so beautiful that it brought tears to my eyes. Who was playing it? I did not know. The lanterns above had disappeared, leaving behind only darkness and the white fog. Dazed and bewildered, with tears in my eyes and my ears filled with the wonderful, faint melody, I stepped into the fog, letting it absorb me.

Lorenzo and Esmeralda

I entered the auditorium and after managing to find an empty chair, I sat down. An elderly man was sitting next to me. He was reading the brochure that we had all been given at the ticket counter and did not look up as I sat down. I looked at the stage. Corinthian columns stood on both ends of it. Dimly-lit lanterns decorated the ceiling. The auditorium was perfectly silent, the lanterns shone with a gentle sublimity and I started feeling slightly drowsy. As I waited for the performance to begin, my mind went back to the legends and stories that shrouded the theatre. The theatre had been built by a couple, Lorenzo and Esmeralda Gonzalez, back in the 1850s. They were two of the most famous music composers of that time and they both played the violin. Through their violins, they conveyed to people their deepest emotions. They loved each other dearly and in their masterpieces, they reflected their love for each other. No other violinist could play the pieces Lorenzo and Esmeralda had written with the perfection and beauty with which they themselves had played. When they were at the peak of their fame, they built a theatre in Madrid, Spain, naming it The Gonzalez Music Theatre. The place became the centre of their existence. They wrote their musical pieces there, rehearsed there, performed there. Music aficionados from all over the world rushed to Madrid to watch Lorenzo and Esmeralda play. Their lives were perfect and happiness encircled them, until one evening, tragedy struck. It happened in 1854. That evening, there was nobody else at the theatre. Lorenzo and Esmeralda were rehearsing the latest musical piece they had written. For a reason which remains a mystery, the theatre suddenly caught fire. The initial sparks turned into terrible flames and they probably did not notice it, not until the giant waves of fire came rushing to them. Lorenzo and Esmeralda Gonzalez, two of the most accomplished musicians ever, whose talents nobody could compete with, whose love for each other became the inspiration for many novels that would be written over the decades, were engulfed by the cruel, unforgiving fire. The theatre was later rebuilt as a tribute to them. A part of it was transformed into a museum, while concerts were held in the auditorium regularly. The music composed by them was played in those concerts. I had always been fascinated by the story of Lorenzo and Esmeralda and that is why I had come all the way to Madrid to visit the theatre. There was a rumour that the couples spirits still haunted the theatre. People living around the place often claimed that they had heard beautiful music coming from the auditorium, describing the melody as something otherworldly and serene. I had never believed in ghosts, but I kept thinking about these rumours while waiting for the performance to begin. The concert began. The violinists played rhythmically and while the music was soothing, there was no trace of the ethereal beauty it was supposed to convey. Was this really the way Lorenzo and Esmeralda intended their music to be? Then something happened. I found myself standing up. I walked up to the stage and through a corner entrance, I entered the backstage. I dont know why I did that or why nobody stopped me. I sat down on the floor, listening to the music, finding it disappointing, and then suddenly, everything turned dark. When I opened my eyes, I wondered if I had fallen asleep or fainted. The backstage was dark and deserted. There was no music coming from the stage. I did not have a watch. Had everybody left the auditorium? Why hadnt anybody noticed me back there? I stood up and made my way to the stage. I saw something like a dense fog in front of me. I clutched a Corinthian column, and then, I felt an otherworldly, ethereal melody coming through the fog. The music was faint but sounded so heavenly, so beautiful that it brought tears to my eyes. Who was playing it? I did not know. The lanterns above had disappeared, leaving behind only darkness and the white fog. Dazed and bewildered, with tears in my eyes and my ears filled with the wonderful, faint melody, I stepped into the fog, letting it absorb me.