The adhan (Arabic: أَذَان [ʔaˈðaːn]) (also called in Turkish: Ezan) is the Islamic call to worship, recited by the muezzin at prescribed times of the day. The root of the word is ʾadhina أَذِنَ meaning “to listen, to hear, be informed about”. Another derivative of this word is ʾudhun (أُذُن), meaning “ear”.
Talking therapy. You must have heard of this term. It’s popular among the depressed. Talking therapy is the subconscious of this article. Subconscious plays a very important role behind all of our actions. Freud did explain that. Sharma g ki ladki, (Mr Sharma’s daughter) also reiterated that yesterday.
Sharma g ki ladki – Davine Sharma came to visit me yesterday. I know Davine, since my old corporate slavery days at American Express. She used to be a part of Indian consumer support team and I was a supervisor with the U.S Digital Assist and Escalations help-desk. Our chance first encounter happened because a common friend needed my personal phone number. She had to relay an urgent communication but I was showing offline on the office communicator. Davine used to sit in a cubicle right next to me but we never had any professional need to interact in the past. But it finally arrived.
As a little kid, I realized world is a very ugly place. I found out, God is dead. I experienced, people are unfriendly. It all was too gloomy for my soul. My soul started dying, slowly. I could not speak. I could write but I lost speech. I mostly kept to myself and never spoke, not with my mouth.
Davine had this strange mystic aura around her. She spoke, her lips twitched and suddenly there was this pleasant, familiar darkness. I have been to dark places. I enjoy being there. It feels good and homely.
Prophet Muhammad found peace in the secluded cave mountains of Hira. I found peace inside a locked, four wall room. You make the best, out of the resources, you have access to. But doctors labelled me delusional. Anyways, the reason I mention this is because of my delusion, I see and feel things differently.
The moment I looked into Davine’s eye, the lights went off. Music began. I could hear Velvet Underground. I always enjoy music. Morrison once said,
“When the music’s over
Turn out the lights”
I had an entirely different experience. The lights went out and music began. It was a surreal dimension shift.
I am tired, I am weary
I could sleep for a thousand years
A thousand dreams that would awake me
Different colors made of tears
And we became best friends. We talked all the time. You must have heard about MOAB – Mother of all Bombs. Well, she was the mother of all story tellers.
I like story tellers. What else is there to life? This whole world is a big web of interconnecting stories. I would also certainly like to meet the writer who wrote our realities. But that’s a life goal. Life goals do take time. This reminds me of the Man in Black in Westworld. He said :
“This whole world is a story. I’ve read every page except the last one. I need to find out how it ends. I want to know what this all means.”
Anyways, several moons later, life got busy. Seeking peace together was no longer an option. We lost touch. And that is the only reason, I like travelling. You are in a temporary state while travelling. Nothing is permanent. Everything changes. I once said :
“Chaos is the only order in the Universe”
I enjoy losing touch. It gives me something to look forward to. Another accidental encounter in future, maybe. I find them refreshing.
I recently became a published author. My book is titled Broken Radio. It’s available on Amazon. I am a lonely, broke, troubled, hypersensitive writer. To fulfill my emotional needs, I joined the virtual world. And it happened. A chance encounter. We spoke again.
Davine, came to visit me yesterday. Prior to her visit, I was wishing for a Biryani, from the universe. Universe sent her. She then dragged me to the Pinnacle of Shitness, Select City Mall and treated me with a nice meal. Nothing in this world is more precious to me than a nice meal. Writers are starved souls. In exchange of the meal, she got a signed copy of my book.
We chatted for a while. We talked about The Great Banyan Tree located in Acharya Jagadish Chandra Bose Indian Botanic Garden, Howrah, near Kolkata, India. The Great Banyan tree is over 250 years old, and its date of birth is doubtful. There is no clear history of the tree as to the time of planting etc. but it is mentioned in many travel books of the nineteenth century as a very spectacular element. It survived two great cyclones in 1864 and 1867, when some of its main branches were broken. With its large number of aerial roots, which grow from the branches and run vertically to the ground and looks like it has so many trunks, The Great Banyan looks more like a forest than an individual tree. The tree survives without its main trunk, which decayed and had to be removed in 1925. A monument has been erected to the dead trunk.
After she left, I was crossing the streets though a tiny slit between the parting fences. A beggar was sitting there. I don’t like beggars. I never pay them money. He was sitting in complete darkness, in middle of the streets. I looked at him. And music began. This time it was the beautiful tune of Azaan. It was a surreal dimension shift. I checked my pockets, I found a ₹5 coin. I dropped it into his bowl of hope. He looked at me and said:
Ramadan Kareem Brother. Ramadan Kareem
I crossed the streets and laughed like crazy. I realized it’s shrink time. So here I am visiting you. Remember, I said, Talking therapy is the subconsious behind this article.
Nishant is a writer and a blogger for Broken Radio Creatives, owned by Social Activist Isha Vipul Singh. Isha Singh, is known for her freelance Investigative Journalism and anti feminist views. She also helps with rehabilitation of orphans. Isha has been mentoring Nishant since her early days.
Broken Radio is Nishant’s big debut. What began as an impromptu rebellious speech for his friend slowly transformed into a captivating transgressive fiction novella. He’s currently working on his untitled sophomore effort. We can’t wait to see what realistic monster he gives birth to next!
Nishant has a degree in English literature from the University of Delhi. Previously a writer of corporate communications, he happily traded in his 9-to-5 gig for a rewarding career as a novelist. The best part: working from his studio, he gets to spend more time with his friends inside his head
– See more at: Broken Radio – The book – Peace Love Rock n Roll