Someone once asked me:
“Why do you listen to songs so much?”
I thought he was just being plain stupid and a jerk for asking me such a foolish question. “How simple-minded,” I thought to myself but when I looked at his stern expressions I knew that he meant business and he wanted me to actually put some thought to my answer. He wasn’t going to let me off with a simple, “Because they make me feel good.” He wanted an answer which would satisfy his desire and quench his thirst.
So I started thinking. My thoughts aligned and only one thing ruled my mind: Why do I listen to songs so much? At first, I started pondering about “Do I even listen to songs?” The answer to that was obviously “Yes.” Then the next question that popped up was, “How much do I listen to songs?” Momentarily, my mind went blank as I calculated the answer to this question. It turns out that I listen to songs every chance I get. Every careem ride I find, I put songs on, every party I attend, I’m the first one to put songs on, even if I’m out for a normal walk, I’ll have my earplugs in and music high. I listen to songs as if they are the water to quench my unending thirst.
For the first time in my life, I was confronted with the fact that I listen to songs a bit too much. A bit? No, I take that back. I do listen to songs too much. I looked at my friend and he seemed bemused seeing me lost in thought taking deep sighs and confounded at how hard the question he had posed was. I ignored him and closed my eyes to remove all further distractions.
I let my thoughts engulf me and burn me whole. What was the answer that I sought? Why did I truly listen to songs so much? Why was it that these songs influenced my life so? Why was it that listening to songs made me excited, listening to them made me depressed, furious, ecstatic and experience such a myriad of emotions. Why were these songs such an important part of my life?
That was when it hit me.
Songs were my escape. They were the one thing that had always there for me. No matter the situation, no matter the scenario I’d always have a song suitable to that set of circumstances which helped me overcome or supported me through that phase. Songs had always had this magical effect on me that I couldn’t really explain but it was always there since I could remember. Songs were something that helped me through thick and thin, through bliss and misery. They were something that whenever needed were always there to do the one job and what was that?
I sat back in my chair and gave a sigh of relief.
“Got your answer?” my friend inquired, smirking a bit.
I knew what I had to say. I also knew that I wouldn’t need to explain myself because my statement would be self-explanatory to those who were willing to understand. I replied:
Though songs cannot heal anything, they help me momentarily forget all my sufferings”.