Listening harmonic noises.

 "If I die young, bury me in satin.

Lay me down on a bed of roses.

Sink me in the river at dawn.

Send me away with the words of a love song."

These are lines sung by The Band Perry reminding me of some of the elements of life and death. To be covered in satin with care after my demise might be a luxury, but it's not too much to ask. Roses are a signature of you being loved even after your death. And a rose never truly dies; the remembrance that you received a rose once, makes the rose immortal in your memory. What about the love song? Why a song?

Humans sing. We sing in our leisure, about our leisure. We sing when we are busy, about our busyness. A song can be an expression of the relationship with our work and our mind. Action and its reaction can be sensual in this sense. Ever wondered what music and songs really are?

The language I speak was mainly acquired from the sounds I heard during my growing up. Some sounds were considered words, some mere noises. Yet, some noises still conveyed a message. A child crying may be a source of disturbance to me but to its mother, that cry is a signal of the child's distress. Music is one of such signals. A signal from the artist representing his joy, or maybe distress. Art is just grown-ups crying artistically. 

My connection with music is the same one that I have with this English or Bangla language. The artist of a song talks to me about his or her stuff through fancy noises. I say noises because to you, it's like a baby crying. To me, it's also a baby crying. But what differentiates our reception is, I'm trying to work out why that baby is in a bad mood.

Everything I write, I say or show, is a representation of myself. A self that is too hard to pinpoint but easy to extract. The extraction, when put together again by someone else, may come to resemble what my self was originally. Arts like drawing, writing, music or even crafting are a form of such extractions. We all want to be understood but not blatantly. For excitement, we risk being misunderstood. Imagine a dull and singular world without artfulness in its depth. Music gives a taste of this excitement; understanding someone or something in our own way. We may be wrong but it's a worthy experience.

17.12.24

- Mr. Ahmed