Written by Elijah Christiane M. Fajardo
My earliest memory of musicals dates back to my kindergarten days, when my mom would sing songs from Miss Saigon, her favorite Broadway musical. We’ve dreamt of seeing musicals together ever since.
Last year, our dreams were realized when we saw Miss Saigon live, and all I could think about was which show we should see next.
I found myself in an endless loop of longing to witness these spectacles on stage. I could end my narrative by saying I love musicals simply because it entertains me, but that would be a lie. Musicals are much more than entertainment. It is not simply a story sung into a melody, but a reflection of my identity.
I am Alexander Hamilton when he writes like he’s running out of time. I am Eurydice when she fell in spite of herself and in love with Orpheus. I am Cosette when she longed to go to a castle on a cloud. I am Audrey when she dreamt of a life somewhere that’s green, and I am Kim when she imagined the movie in her mind.
It’s quite difficult, you see–to explain such love with measly words, but I’ll give it a shot.
Musicals, however intangible, have held me so close I can feel myself fall asleep in its arms. It is a reminder that there is good and happiness in the world, and all I had to do was slow down and listen. While it keeps me grounded and hopeful in my own reality, it also serves as a temporary escape when reality itself has not been the most friendly.
How I wish that the world could break into song every now and then. Why do we always have to pull up an umbrella to avoid rain, when we can just sing in it?
THE BARRISTER 