If ''Music is the real breath of life… ''

In Yasmina Khadra 's novel ' The swallows of Kabul' (page 66 of the french pocket edition), the old Nazish ( who wants to leave Kabul for good, go up the mountains and walk to the Ocean), suddenly expresses his craving for music to be back in life in Kabul, but with no hope under the tyrannic taliban 's order-disorder, where life means death.
Old Nazish says :
"Music is the real breath of life. We eat so as not to die.We sing so we can hear ourselves alive"(…)
Naturally I asked myself about the meaning of music for me these days of retirement.
Music is a  way to discover what I ignore, that will move me strongly and  that I cannot understand through languages.
Music can be offered to me through so many sources now but the best source is the live experience, possibly anywhere it happens I will stop and listen.
There was a born musician at home these last months, he never studied music, was working hard in his field but had Music at his fingertips. The old mandole bought a long time ago in Prague went back to life with his songs and picking.

 What he played and sang has taken me to  another country where a language is almost dying but the music and words are keeping this language alive. 

 He told me he played the Lounès Matoub 's style on the guitar or mandole because he only likes this 
music from his country.
I now feel  Music is the real breath of our lives...
.

(many thanks for this pict of Djurdjura from http://jimy.over-blog.com/article-934995.htm
beautiful pictures of Kabylie, with its olive trees and oaks giving cork just like the forest de La Londe in Provence)