I believe in the siren call of music, the entrancing rhythm of emotions. A drum beat falling in sync with my heart, beating in a steady rhythm, counteracting my racing heart.  I believe in the power of a simple melody.

On some days, music calms my emotions, allowing my limbs to fall – relaxed; on other days, music rushes my mind, encouraging my adrenalin to pulsate – energized.  Whether relaxed or energized, music provides me the courage to face problems head on. Regretting nothing. Wanting everything.

Different genres of music intertwine to compose my identity. The symphonies of my emotions beautifully harmonize with one another as unique tones of a melody grasp at different memories and desires. My mind summons different songs in order to find the perfect fit for the day. A song that will express my feelings without me having to struggle to find the words to say it myself. An expression of my soul without the anxiety of stringing together the perfect sentence.

Music, to me, is like a photo album. It’s storage for different memories from moments in my life. Hearing a song from when I was younger transports me back to my childhood. To road trips alongside my siblings, singing horribly off pitch to old Bollywood songs that defined my parent’s childhood. It reminds me of simpler times, when it was okay for me to sing duets with my sister. Her the girl and me the guy. When love songs were nothing but catchy. When they held much more than just pain and desire. When it didn’t matter if we weren’t good singers because we were having fun. When I was a child, music defined adventure and optimism. When I was a child, music was nothing but happy memories.

As I grew older, music became more intertwined with my emotions. All of sudden, love songs weren’t just catchy. They meant something. They turned into melodies of passion and romance, of hope and sacrifice. But still, they inspired thoughts of the future. Thoughts of who I wanted to be with, who I wanted to be. No pain, no desire, just blind optimism.

Years passed still. And music changed. Still intertwined with my emotions, lyrics to once optimistic songs sounded like nothing more than a mocking limerick. Taunting me with the naivety of my blind faith in the future. But yet, the steady beat of a song still enticed me. These songs were no longer about finding love but about losing it. And now, instead of thoughts of the future, my desires are set in the past. Praying to go back to simpler times – to music that was nothing but catchy.

The beauty of having a time machine in the palm of my hands allows me to transport myself to a past lifetime with the press of a button. However, sometimes my time machine breaks. I travel to my childhood and get stuck. Get stuck in the past surrounded by everything I wish I could have back. I dwell dangerously on what was and let time pass me by. Not creating new memories but getting trapped in the old ones. Just like sailors in the sea, I let the siren call me to danger. There are times when I am able to avoid the rope tied around my heart, pulling me towards the destruction of my future. Other times, I can’t help but let it lure me in.

I believe in the siren call of music. In the experience of different memories within each note. I believe in getting lost within a mellow harmony. And dreaming of the impossible with an upbeat tune. I believe in finding a piece of myself within every lyric. Letting it express my sentiments without me having to say a word.

I believe in the power of music.