Dust of Time began with my trip to Kabul in October 2018. I was fortunate enough to pay my second visit to ‘Shuhadey-i-saliheen’ – a mountainside graveyard in a poor area on the edge of Kabul that also houses shrines to one of the companions of the Prophet Muhammad, as well as the ‘Saint of Herat’ Abdullah Ansari. Visiting shrines has been (and remains) incredibly popular with everyday folk all across the Islamic world, and Afghanistan is no exception, in spite of the stern opposition that extremist groups always take to the practice. The western equivalent might be a hybrid of taking a hike / going for a picnic / looking up your ancestors / visiting a graveyard, and going to a place of worship. The Saints (‘Awliya’) buried at such shrines are revered for giving their entire lives to devotion and service, ultimately achieving the feat of “dying before they died,” a Sufi concept that merits further reading.
"Khaaq" (literally 'dust,' but also more symbolically, 'land') is one of the most commonly used words and phenomena in Afghanistan. “May dust be on your head,” is one of the most malicious insults (essentially another way of telling someone to “drop dead!”) On the other hand, the country is comprised of dust, and dust, symbolically, is the country. ‘The dust of the homeland’ (Khaaq-e watan) conjures feelings of pride, place and dignity. According to my father, an Afghan’s khaaq also stands for his honour, equal to the honour of ones mother, spouse or family; an honourable Afghan would defend their khaaq, just as they would defend their own mother; conversely, one does not sell one’s honour, just as one would never sell ones mother or spouse. Those who would sell (or sell out) their land are bey-namoos – without honour, and an Afghan without honour has no value. Another beautiful word we have is for a specific kind of dust which has settled over ages and epochs, which we refer to as "Garrd".
After visiting the Shrine that I described in the first paragraph (by all physical accounts, it is quite a strange place), I felt a tremendous sense of happiness and contentment flourishing and growing in my heart, something which lasted for quite a long time and which I tried to convey musically in the long final piece of Dust of Time.
OVERVIEW OF THE THREE MOVEMENTS
The opening piece, culled largely from the cassette archives of Dr. Nabi Misdaq utilizes various prominent vocal samples (mostly from old BBC broadcasts) that depict one of many turning points that would eventually lead to the defeat of the invading Communist Soviet army. Utilizing one basic sample (a drum loop from a Herati folk song) and manipulating it to reflect the narratives put forth by the vocal samples, this song depicts the most earthly context of Afghan land. The dust can be heard in the beating of the drum (accentuated through different harmonic frequencies, which later morph to sound like the invading Russian army) as well as references to typical wartime concepts of “taking” and “losing” land, showing us what this concept is in its most gross and physical manifestation.
The second piece is a symbolic invocation, rising from the land and outwards, leaving the cupped hands of believers and traveling upwards, as breath, as mist, as prayer. The piece begins with the audio of a father visiting his young daughters grave, uttering (barely audible) prayers under his breath as he pours water over her tombstone. The rigid notes that play throughout represent ritual outer-aspect of the prayer, while the vocalizations by Misdaq (kept purposefully wordless, essentially free of any human language) represent the soul-seed / heart that comes forth through the ritual.
The final piece represents the previously mentioned concept of “Khaaq-e-awliya” – the protective sphere that spiritually covers our land, Afghanistan. The sound also brings to mind swirling ancient dust that physically covers our land, both aging and protecting it at the same time. The sound represents the Divine energy (or “barakah”) that is apportioned to and yielded by the Saints (those known and unknown holy men who gave their entire lives to devotion and service) it is said that through this barakah, they are able to repel those with evil intentions towards the land, and likewise protect and support those whose hearts are pure and call on their spiritual assistance. This song also represents our ancestors, who are also able to look on at our actions, and who urge us toward goodness in all things.
credits
released December 27, 2019
Vocals, instruments and production by Yusuf Misdaq,
Recorded, mixed and mastered at Nefisa Studio, June - December 2019, Maryland, USA
Cover design by Yusuf Misdaq from original artwork by an unknown artist, taken from the book Bostan-i-Hafez.
Digital / Cassette cover design by Yusuf Misdaq.
MASTAKAI, (previously Yoshi / Yusuf Misdaq) has lived many lives in many places. He was making beats, writing lyrics, producing music and singing songs long before he was born. He is from Afghanistan. He will die there, and be reborn again there.
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