The Feeling of Sound

The early years of my life began with music. On Saturday mornings, I used to sit in front of an AIWA stereo player and admire all the buttons and small LEDs that would state the name of whatever was playing. It was a cool contraption which had multiple options for audio contraptions like the vinyl record, cassette tapes, and CD's. (visual of the stereo)

Although I wanted to listen to vinyl records, the needle in that part of the player was broken. Sometimes, I would lift the plastic cover just to touch the pieces or wipe off dust despite my other belongings being strewn across the living room floor. I liked watching the film within cassette tapes rotate in circles and spread from one reel to the other. I would tinker with the settings of the stereo player to see how it would affect the song playing as if I was a DJ composing a jam with an equalizer.

Most of my memories are of Elvis Presley, Juanes, and classical composers such as Beethoven and Mozart. I wasn't able to read but I still remember some of the songs which I now am able to identify as Mozart's "Symphony No. 35" and "Symphony No. 40" which I used to dance to throughout the start and end of the composition. I felt as if the notes were telling a story and would act them out according to what I would imagine were the events transpiring in the mind of the musician. Beethoven was more of my preference due to this as his pieces felt more dynamic. On some days, "Moonlight" (Piano Sonata No. 14) seemed to tell me different sad stories. However, his symphony No. 5 was a lot more of a dramatic and fun to jump around to or tiptoe at certain parts which would get a laugh out of my mom. After all, she had to listen to them for her required music college class which probably became her favorite homework assignment as it allowed us to spend time together more creatively.

As for Elvis, I surprised my mother with the detail in which I drew his face that I found on the back of a CD and after I asked them about if he lives in Hawaii (as I learned about him through Lilo & Stitch) only to learn from my sister that he had died. My sister explained to me that he was addicted to drugs which were these "things that people take to forget the bad things they are feeling but it makes them feel worse and they can't stop taking them anymore so you should never take them!" I asked her why was he so sad if he was "very good at singing and has a deep voice that makes you feel safe". She explained that sometimes fame can make people say things about you that aren't true and they don't even know you but Elvis might have felt sad from the things that people were saying. I remember sitting down feeling sorry for Elvis and thought how it was good that nobody knew me because it seemed fame killed a lot of people. I shed some tears the next time I heard his song "Love Me Tender" and wondered if love made him feel better sometimes.

My mom would dance and sing on the weekends, our day began with music. But above all else, I loved hearing my mom sing as she was a mezzo-soprano both in her singing abilities and the term matched her overall personality, too. I often felt embarrassed to sing as in comparison, my voice was much deeper than both my sister and my mother and my peers added it to the list of things that they seemed to cycle through when choosing what to mock about me.

Soon enough, I began to understand how one could find comfort in sounds such as Elvis finding comfort in music but how sounds could also cause dark feelings such as the ensnaring words of my peers that seemed to never really leave specific scratches in my being but each day I grew heavier, quite literally. I found comfort in the sounds of different foods swishing in my mouth and the sounds of the different documentary voices used by informational channels such as Discovery Channel and National Geographic. I learned about how animals have warning systems to alert one another through a change in pitch of their calls such as sparrows. While other animals, like whales, used songs to court mates sort of like marine Elvis Presleys.

I enjoyed coming home to learn more about different types of sounds. I was particularly a fan of learning to distinguish sounds such as using my Leapfrog toy where there was a challenge to identify the different instruments such as piccolos or the french horn. At one point, the device malfunctioned probably due to overuse or my constant misplacement where it winded up having things thrown on it. I surprised my family when I was able to recite verbatim the instructions of the leapfrog and listed all the instruments, the 50 states of the United States, and the major bones of the human body despite struggling to learn to read.

It was perhaps due to my difficulty learning to read or process faces (I often confused my mom with people outside but once they began speaking or made more facial expressions, I'd recognize that this person wasn't my mom) that I learned to submerge myself in sounds. One thing that particularly interested me about sounds was their relationship with vibrations which I learned some animals like bats would use to find food or even avoid predators. I wasn't able to read "Stellaluna" but I memorized much of the story through the pictures and knew the word "sultry" based on its shape because it was a word that sounded like "dry" which matched the word since it was on the first page describing the warm weather the fruit bags lived in so they could eat delicious fruits. Every time my family, the librarian, or the teacher reached the page of the mangoes that Stellaluna and the other bats were eating, I could hear the skin of a mango peeling over the fibrous flesh of the fruit. I could hear the bats munching on the fruits and the leaves of the mango trees gently coaxing them to continue their meals.

After I became Muslim, I learned that I would have to leave the world of music behind which was a major sacrifice for me but yet one that I did not initially find challenging at all. In fact, I became amazed by how the Qur'an reminded me of all the sounds I had ever come across in my lifetime but even better. On the one hand, it had sounds that were favorable to deep voices like Elvis but also melodies that favored higher pitches that my mom could reach but not too high that someone with her voice wouldn't be able to sing. At the same time, it wasn't a song but it also told stories like Mozart and Beethoven. There was only one obstacle: it was in a foreign language. However, even without Arabic I could feel its meaning. I could feel that this was the true religion just based on the feeling of its sounds.

I would often read the translation to myself in a small little book and it felt as if the world began to sound differently. I suddenly began to hear the true frivolousness of all that was around me: the sound of lies, the growing malice of creepy pre-teen boys, the teasing of fellow females that seemed to hiss in my ear regularly, and the false sincerity of some teachers. I was appalled by the sounds of inauthenticity and the sounds within my own mind seemed to amplify. There was so much I felt and yet the sounds that I could muster from my own mouth seemed to become fewer and fewer. Words could not express my sentiments but my sentiments grew exponentially with the new sounds of each day and each new thing I learned.

As an adult now, I crave silence more and more. But not true silence. The rhythm that we all have that plays in the background that we find comforting whether it be the light snoring of a relative, the neighbors blending smoothies every morning, the one bird that wakes up the other birds for fajr, the sound of a loved one's sigh of relief or sleepy yawn. But I don't want to hear voices where the words are pointed at me, shot at me, or bulldozed through me. What I love about the Qur'an is that I can learn all about mankind from the safety of a practical guide to life. One is to learn it from a teacher who comes from a line of teachers that all heard it and learned it directly from the Prophet (peace be upon him). At the same time, one can recite privately to Allah in prayer and even if others don't like your voice, Allah and the angels listen to you. The angels like to hear you recite the Qur'an and write down a deed for every letter you recite. And Allah multiplies the reward.

I want to hear the voices that not only recite the Qur'an but that exist inside of a person who understand the feeling of sounds and the impact their words has on another person. I dedicated most of my life to learning how to express myself but to this day, I myself am reckless with words and throw them around carelessly. Yet there are some who may have a small vocabulary but know the weight of potentially hurtful words.

I bought a cassette tape recorder recently. I want to feel the sounds of something meaningful I choose to record into it such as my mother's voice, my friend's comforting wisdom, the recitation of a teacher of Quran, and my own thoughts to leave for someone else should Allah take me from this world. I'll watch the film move in the reels of the tape and play around with the buttons. All I sought in Mozart, Beethoven, and Elvis was someone who understood how I felt about sounds but they all lived lives I would not choose for myself. Music was a form of cathartic release indeed but once you have heard the Qur'an and truly felt it, only then you will know the feeling of sound.