“Damn. That’s pretty drastic.”
This was the reaction of my friend when he heard that I (try to) refrain from listening to music during fasting hours, in addition to the usual abstaining from food and drink, and of course, (trying to) pray during the month of Ramadan which, for those of us who attempt to be Muslim, are standard practices over the month.
“Is there anything in religion that says you should abstain?”
The follow up question gave me pause for a moment. For it is a legitimate question. Then again, is there anything that’s said about music in Islam at all? I’m not well-versed, so I can’t make any comments on that. At the risk of sounding blasphemous during the holy month, that did not even matter to me. I didn’t really care whether the scriptures told me that I could or could not listen to music during fasting hours.
We already know (or think we do) what fasting during Ramadan entails. It entails Muslims to not eat or drink anything from dawn until dusk.
But for many, I believe, it’s so much more.
Now, I have no intention of being preachy. I firmly believe that religion is a deeply personal matter. There’s nothing worse than being told what you can or cannot do in that particular journey and being promptly condemned to hell for deviating (even slightly) from that path, a path that looks different for every individual.
Sure, there’s a guide (for Muslims, it’s the Quran and some Hadiths, while other religions have their own) but ultimately, if we are to believe that it’s every person for themselves and the Almighty knows best, then, perhaps, let the Almighty decide the fate of said individual? Focus on yourself, good sir.
But back to my “drastic” measure of not listening to music -- in addition to not watching any movies or TV shows -- during fasting hours.
The movies or TV shows are a piece of cake (sorry for the food reference if you’re reading this while fasting). I’ve never been huge on either. Abstaining from those? Easy.
But anyone who knows anything about me knows that food and listening to music are arguably the two passions I have in life.
And that is the point.
I view Ramadan as the holy month just as any other practicing Muslim but also a month where Muslims (or even non-Muslims if they are looking for a 30-day period) can work on their self-discipline and resist temptations. After all, it is the one month where smokers (try to) not smoke during fasting hours. We give up food and water for many hours. We (try to) pray much more than we do the rest of the 11 months (combined). Jummah on Fridays are always far more crowded during the month. So on and so forth.
It is the month of abstinence. For me, giving up on listening to music -- something I truly adore doing -- during said hours just makes sense. As I’d replied to my friend, it’d hardly be the month of abstinence if I could not abstain, for a certain number of hours, the one activity I enjoy more than anything else.
But that’s my story. I don’t think abstaining from listening to music is religious. I certainly did not hear about it from any Islamic scholar. I did not read about it. I decided to because It just made sense to me. I thought about it, reflected upon it, and made my decision.
I would wager that most Muslims have their own stories during Ramadan and what it means to them. It’s almost like a spiritual new year’s resolution of sorts. We’re all having conversations with ourselves. We’re always thinking and reflecting. This only magnifies during Ramadan.
The month of Ramadan offers a way to (try and) become, what I believe at least, a better person -- at least a better version of who I was. I’d like to believe the same applies to everyone. Whether that be donating to the poor, controlling our tempers, reaching out to those we have held a grudge against, caring about and being there for friends and family, or yes, in my case and choosing to be “drastic,” even listening to less music.
AHM Mustafizur Rahman is Joint Editor, Editorial and Op-Ed, at the Dhaka Tribune and a (perpetual) work in progress as a human being.