Music Is (not) My Drug

Music is generally frowned upon in religious Islamic culture. Singing, dancing and music are considered to harden the heart towards the message of Allah, the Quran.

Qawwalis, no doubt, are sung in Dargahs and music was a close part of Sufi culture, but these were innovations which were more cultural than religious. Singing and music was not a part of traditional Islamic culture and was considered a distraction from true religious devotion. Dargahs themselves are doubtful places of worship because Islam has no tradition of visiting graves of learned men and asking them for intercession. Islam advocates asking the Creator directly, and even the graves of the prophets are not places of worship. No matter how we justify it, the instruction in the Quran is straight. Ask any scholar and he will tell you that listening to music is to be avoided. I could never be fully convinced as to why.

We had gone for a trek to Vasota fort. It was February. The nights were cold but days were bright and sunny, the air dry.

Vasota is a fort near Mahabaleshwar located within the Koyna Wildlife Reserve. Visiting the fort requires an hour long journey by boat along the Koyna backwaters from a village called Bamnoli. From the point the boat anchors, it is supposedly a three hour trek to the top. One has to compulsorily take a guide and the boatman doubles up as the guide. Old Vasota is closed for visitors. New Vasota fort is worth visiting for good views of the hills and the Koyna Backwaters. And from around 2/3rds to the top, there is a detour to Nageshwar temple 3 Kms away, along the ridge.

Both Vasota and Nageshwar are considered two day treks, one day for each, but people do them in a single day too. Staying the night in the sanctuary requires forest permissions and some complicated shit. So we had decided we would cover both in a day's trek.

The boat fare for a round trip journey was 3000 when we went there, irrespective of the number of passengers. We had met a group of 4 guys the previous night and made an agreement with them to book a boat collectively and share the rent.

Boats start from Bamnoli by 8 or 9. There were lots of groups at Bamnoli that day. All of them had left by 9. We however, who had been at the pier at 8, were still waiting there till 9.45. Our companions of convenience had a bit too much drink the previous night. When we went to their room, one of them was vomiting and found another who had either died of a stroke or was sleeping that way.

Two of them did finally agree to come but they looked too dishevelled and tired to be really interested in the trek.

Now the trek to Vasota is mostly through the forested jungle. It's only when you reach towards the top that one has to face the sun. Supposedly no big deal. Nageshwar was just an hour more.

However, we were running 1.5 hours behind schedule. The rule book said that we had to be back by 4 p.m. into our boats. No matter what (not really). So when we reached the base after an hours journey by boat, we knew we had to run.

And Run we did. We caught up with many of the trekkers who had started almost an hour before us. By 12.30, we were at the top. The view of the Koyna Backwaters or Shivsagar Lake as it's called was beautiful. Usually the lakes around hills are green in colour. But this lakes was blue cause the hills haven't got much greenery and it reflected the azure sky. We could see our boat along the lake's shore from the top.

The fort itself is dilapidated. Most of it was destroyed by the British. There are different sides of the fort from where you can get different views. On every side of the fort, sheer cliffs descend into oblivion and death. From one of the ends, we can see Nageshwar and Chota Nageshwar peaks in the distance, our next destination.

We left Vasotsa for Nageshwar and hurried down to the detour point. Our guide was waiting for us there but surprisingly, he refused to come with us. Nageshwar was 2.5 kms from this point. It was 1.30 p.m. Given that further descent to the boat at the base would take less than an hour, we had 2 hours to cover 6 kms along relatively straight paths. No big deal.

Except that it was a b big deal for our boatman cum guide. He was of the opinion that we could not go to Nageshwar and come back the same day. He sat down and made a call to the forest guards telling them that a group was gonna stay back, to which obviously he got a 'No, bring them down' instruction.

I seldom get so angry like i got that day. He knew all along that we would go to Nageshwar. But maybe he had thought we would get tired and decide otherwise. Now that he found us ready and willing to fulfil what we had said, he grew cold feet.

We had come a long long way and were were not going to let that guy spoil it. Not in mood for much debate, I told him to go back to the base and to wait till 4p.m. If we were not back by then, he could leave us here to our destiny and go back. So sure was I that we would be back by 4.

A few minutes past 1.30, we left for Nageshwar without our guide.

The route initially was through forested jungle and comfortably cool. Then we came out into the open at Chota Nageshwar and had to trek some 1.5 kms along the ridge under the sun.

Marching on towards our destination with the clock ticking. The distance when you look at it from Vasota looks very long, but when you are there walking it, it actually isn't. Only problem were the small stones, or scree, which roll like bearings under a skate when we put our foot on them. Breathtaking cliff on one side, the forest on the other, and we on the ridge.

There come points along the route where you are almost a foot away from cliffs of awesome height. But it's not very risky really. Unless you fall towards the cliff side.

After some time, we heard rapid footsteps behind us. It was our guide. No matter what we did, he could not afford to be on the wrong side of the law by leaving us alone. After all, he was an appointed guide, paid for in advance. Biting his lip, he was back with us.

The sun that day was pretty hot. And the dry air added to the dangers of walking in the sun. It's easy to get dehydrated under such conditions and slowly at first, but then very suddenly it gripped me.

Sharma and I were in the lead. I remember Sharma and i were just about 200m from the Nageshwar caves when I suddenly felt weak and fell behind. Torque limitation mode they call it in automobile terms.

Moments ago I had been active. Now suddenly the sun became brighter and the signboard a little confusing and the surroundings a bit darker. By the time I reached the cave, I knew I was getting dehydrated.

There is a well near the cave under the trees. I mixed up a pack of Electrol and drank. Almost immediately I felt better and a gave a prayer of thankfulness. No one else had come prepared. Some of us weren't even carrying enough water, even though they had been told to. So glad I had the Electrol with me.

We stayed there for about 20 minutes, I washed and offered Namaz and we ate and drank our fill. I had to be careful on the way back now otherwise I could get into trouble. There was no drinking water between Nageshwar and the forest base camp. No more Electrol. We filled up with water but some of us again did not carry the required amount they should have. Result being, we ran out of water shortly after we reached Chota Nageshwar.

Time was a critical factor that day. We could not wait till the sun eased down. Our 4 o'clock appointment at the forest check-point was due. We just had to brave the sun. I was feeling normal when we started back from Nageshwar but I wasn't the same. I was now lagging behind the others. We had to walk 1.5 kms in the sun. Trudging on, we reached Chota Nageshwar from where the forested path starts. I asked Sanguri to wait with me for a while as I sat and cooled down a bit.

My heat stroke only became worse from there. Although the rest of the way was forested and shady now, I desperately needed water and it was still some hour and a half's walking away.

My vision was dark and my thoughts became repetitive. Nonsense thoughts played out in a loop in my head. My own voice resonated within my skull and I heard my voice dictating each thought.

It was then that a song started in my head. Background music. Two phrases and a tune. In infinte loop.

I just remember walking and walking and wishing for it to end, and perhaps it was the hardest walk of my life. I was unaware of the surroundings. Just the vague way forward was all I could focus on. My thoughts had become gooey, and random. The song kept playing in my head, a song whose lyrics I didn’t even know.

Then I saw a bottle of water beneath a tree. A bottle of water in the jungle, with no one around. Should I drink it? As I reached out to grab it, it spoke to me! The guy to whom that bottle belonged and who had been standing just beside the bottle all along, and whom I had not seen, greeted me.

After almost an hour, just before the forest camp, I came upon a stream and drank from it. The water was stagnant and not clean, but it was water nonetheless.

Anyways, I reached the base camp safely and a lady was selling buttermilk. I drank like a fool. Rehydration should be gradual and consequently, and the uvula in my throat swelled up into a ball!

The guide and Sharma were already there. The others soon joined us. It was 4p.m. We were spot on.

When I look back upon that day, apart from all the adventure we had, I am reminded of two things.

One, my arrogance when we were at the detour to Nageshwar. Although we made it as planned, I was humbled.

Two, throughout the way back, when I was under the effects of dehydration or heat stroke or whatever it was, there was one song and only one song which was playing in my head. "Ram chahe lila chahe lila chahe ram, blah blah blah blah blah" from Bhansali's movie Ram Lila. No matter how much I had tried to get it out if my head, it just didn't leave.

Now it should be noted. I have not seen the movie. Nor do I know the lyrics except the first line! I write blah blah precisely for this reason. But I have heard it being played elsewhere and I know the tune.

Just like I had once played Hookah Bar 37 times in a row, 'Ram chahe Lila' had just played in a loop inside my head that day. Although the former was voluntary, this was not. It was forceful occupation of my mind. I had recited Astargfaar too make that horrible sound go away, but it came back as soon as I stopped focusing on astaghfaar.

The shit we listen to doesn't just enter one ear and leave the other. It hides in dark corners and resonates whenever it wants. When our consciousness becomes weak, and our subconscious lets loose the knifemen who stab and steal our peace of mind, wouldn't we be sorry for letting them occupy our sacred mind-space in the first place?

I mean, it wouldn't have been any more respectable if a supposedly good song been there instead. Cause when I loose conscious in the throes of death, when the flashback of my life starts playing uncontrolled in my head, I don’t want no Led Zepp song or a song I overheard somewhere for a background score!

I want peace in the acceptance of death, and the remembrance of returning to Allah, to whom we belong and to whom we shall all, undoubtedly, return…