Life is an iPod. The different melodies, the ups and the downs, the changes in tempo, every song, and every experience differs a little from the next. Start with the tinkling bells, meaningless lyrics, and soothing sounds of early childhood. Everything is simple; repetition, a song meant for young ears, nothing to think about, nothing to ponder, just to breathe and to live. One song flows into the next, changing subtly, barely noticed. Then the words begin to gather আরো depth; the beat becomes a little faster, a little louder. The সঙ্গীত plays, slow and monotonous during the school day, dragging on and on, then a fast crescendo, beating drums, rushing home; repeating over and over again. As time passes the সঙ্গীত picks up strength, the tempo increases, the melody weaves complicated patterns in and out of the rhythm. It is hard to make sense of the words, barely heard, drums and খাদ drowning out the logic. The fast beat of high school is punctuated দ্বারা sadness, a sudden lapse in pounding, slowing till the only sounds audible are the slow strums of guitar, the low pitched পিয়ানো keys. Then, suddenly, the drums push their way back in, drowning out the quiet violin. The cycle repeats. Until, finally, the volume lowers, the ears re-adjust, and the সঙ্গীত becomes less irregular, settles into a pattern. The same beat repeats itself in the background, while other melodies slide over it. Love; sweet flutes, brass horns; the first job. Life moves on, one song running its full length before another begins, no skipping around, no jerky stops অথবা starts. Smooth music, regular, predictable. The সঙ্গীত becomes softer, softer. It fades into the background; drum machines pounding out the same beat, the পিয়ানো and the গিটার coming from the same synthesized device. The সঙ্গীত becomes less noticeable, and with each repeated chorus, it loses meaning. It slows to almost a stop as the office work carries on. The lyrics tattooed inside the brain, so that thinking is no longer required, and the সঙ্গীত slips to the back of the mind, running on autopilot. Retirement doesn’t block out the music, instead it brings it forward. With nothing else on the mind the সঙ্গীত pushes its way back in, taking on a different shape. In songs heard a thousand times, suddenly there comes a new meaning. New harmonies now intertwine with the melody, instruments overlooked previously come into sharp focus. The সঙ্গীত gets louder, আরো interesting. The সঙ্গীত pounds until the red light flashes, the iPod’s battery wears down. The volume gets softer, preserving what energy it has left, until finally the energy is gone. The সঙ্গীত has run its course.